Great Hograh Moor

Looking SE across Westerdale from John Breckon Road.

Looking NE from Skinner Howe Cross Road, which is a rough and rocky path.

The building marked on the map as 'Shooting Box'.

Looking west from the path the goes along the north side of Baysdale.

Small Copper butterfly in Baysdale.

An unfamiliar view of the lower portion of Westerdale, taken whilst being buffeted by Storm Malik, the latest of this winter’s storm. I am on what is named as Grange Bank on the old O.S. map, descending into the dale after a slog over Baysdale Moor. The photo gives a good overview of the medieval settlement area known as Lingcote End. It may be hard to appreciate as we speed through the modern village on the way up to Rosedale Head, but Westerdale is known as a poly-focal settlement. That is, there are several distinct settlement clusters of dispersed farmsteads. One of these was Lingcote End, a name recorded in a 1539 charter but probably older. The first element of the name probably refers to a cottage in the heather, whilst the ‘End’ is a settlement. The name is not on modern O.S. maps but ‘Lingcote End Gate’ is named on the 1952 6″ edition. The nearest farm, on the right, is Grange Farm, thought to have been the grange of Baysdale Abbey. Next, continuing right to left on a contour, is Hawthorn House. This was named as ‘Hawthorn Hurste’ in 1539. Next is Stocking House, recorded as a close ‘Stockynge’ in the charter. Finally there is Crown House, almost hidden by trees. The four farms occupy a bowl facing south-east, so catching the morning sun but sheltered from the prevailing south-westerlies. It was certainly sheltered as I made my way back into Baysdale along the modern Public Bridleway which links the farms. For sources and references see my blog Link

I suppose it would be petty of me to whine about this anthropogenic change to the moors created by mowing of the heather moorland. I should be thankful that this moor is no longer being burned and great plumes of smoke waft across the skyline but I fear the random patches of the old black swiddens did seem more pleasing than this new chequerboard effect. ‘Swiddens’, as you may recall, are the burnt patches of heather, and swiddening is a centuries old practice, pre-dating its ‘modern’ purpose of promoting the growth of young heather as food for the grouse chicks. It was the first step in turf graving, the cutting and gathering of the underlying peat for use as fuel, a practice no longer in use. In a record of the manor court of Fylingdales of 1682, the burnt moor looked “like a quilt that had been worked’’. Swiddening also provided an opportunity to gather the ling ‘gouldens’, the name of the partly-burnt storks, tie them in bundles and send them into towns to be sold as ‘kindling’. A task usually carried out by the older women. It may take up to fourteen years for a new growth of heather to become established after a burn, however during this time the swidden may be colonised by a variety of other plants. It’ll be interesting to see what the recovery and diversity of mowed heather is like. Diversity is of course the enemy of grouse management. In a hard to read dialect poem by the Yorkshire poet, Stanley Umpleby (1887-1953), the task of swiddening is depicted: Hoo can a poor fella ‘at’s choak’d up wi’ smeek I’ t’toon, where he’s sattled ti addle his keak. Fergit his au’d frinnds, an’ hoo all used ti sing Awaay ower t’moors bonnin’ swiddens o’ ling. An’ noo we ‘a’e March here. Ah knaw they’ll be, Oor Jack, Bill an’ Tommy. Aye! all theer bud me. An’ if war wiv ’em Ah seear Ah a’ud sing, Awaay ower t’moors bonnin’ swiddens o’ ling. For sources and references see my blog Link

Looking west along the northern side of Baysdale.

Looking NE.

Looking north.

Looking west from the road above Hob Hole.