Monthly Archives: December 2019

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WALK. 13. Ulverston and Conishead Priory.

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                                                            Chapel Island Leven Estuary.

I avoided crossing the Leven Estuary sands by taking the train from Cartmel to Ulverston.  In the estuary is Chapel Island. In the 14th century, Augustinian monks from  Conishead Priory built a small chapel on the island to serve the needs of travellers using the ancient crossing from Cartmel to Conishead.

But first, a little tour of Ulverston.

The station was designed by the renowned Lancaster architects Paley and Austin for the Furness Railway in 1873. This railway was independently operated between 1846 and 1923, originally conceived as a mineral line supplying iron ore to Barrow, but soon passengers were using the service from Carnforth to Barrow and beyond. Prior to this, the only road to the area crossed those treacherous Morecambe Bay tidal sands. The station itself is red sandstone with some ornate metal and glass awnings. Inside the waiting room are two original cast iron seats with the squirrel motif from the Furness Railway. The crest of the railway was based on Furness Abbey’s seal. Interestingly, throughout Ulverston are placed 50 seats, all numbered, based on the same design donated by Glaxo to commemorate 50 years of production in the town.

The most celebrated statue in town is of homeboy Stan Laurel with Oliver Hardy and a dog. It was unveiled by Ken Dodd in 2009.      ” Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into !” Ulverston’s maze of streets has many fine Georgian and Victorian listed buildings. The market area appears to have lots of small independent shops that attract tourists and locals alike, not to mention the many old inns.

Close to the centre is the run-down Hartley’s Brewery, closed in 1991 after 236 years brewing, bought by Robinsons and production transferred to Cheshire. Nearby is Oddfellows Hall in an old church with a link to Furness Abbey. Looking up as you walk through the streets, there is the sight of a 100ft monument on Hoad Hill. Built in the style of a lighthouse in 1850 to commemorate Sir John Barrow, born in Ulverston and a founder member of the Royal Geographical Society. Walking down the elegant curving Sunderland Terrace brought me to the basin of the Ulverston Canal. This straight mile and a half canal was opened in 1796 to transport iron ore, shipbuilding was also an important trade based on the canal. The stroll down the canal was a popular walk this morning with the locals. Along the way are large metal sculpture relating the history and several of those numbered blue seats.

Glaxo seat number one.

Halfway down was the rusting rolling bridge, a complicated structure that carried a rail line into the ironworks but could be rolled aside to allow ships to pass. It was on the site of the ironworks, closed in 1938, that Glaxo began producing antibiotics in 1948 and whose large factory dominates this end of Ulverston.

At Canal Foot are the sea locks and access across to the Bay Horse, an old coaching inn from when the route was across the sands. A bridleway sign pointing to the sands and sea states, “This route has natural hazards”,  an understatement. There are views across the sands to Cartmel with the Leven Rail Viaduct. Down the estuary is Chapel Island mentioned above.

A detour around the Glaxo works and on past the slag heaps from the ironworks, and I was on a pebble beach opposite Chapel Island. Permissive paths ran from the beach into woods, the grounds of Conishead Priory. Conishead was originally founded by the  Augustinians in the C12th as a hospital for the poor and was a priory until Dissolution, nothing is left of it now. The present Gothic building dates from 1821 and was built for a Lancashire family, the Braddylls. The house passed through several hands before, in the thirties, being used as a Durham Miners convalescent home. It was sold on and fell into disrepair before being purchased in 1975 by a Buddhist community, who have slowly carried out restoration. There is a lively cafe and a shop on the ground floor.

In the grounds of the house, the Buddhists have built a modern ‘Peace Temple’. Prayers were in progress, so I didn’t go inside. My curiosity satisfied, I walked back along the road into Ulverston, with the Hoad Monument as a constant beacon ahead of me.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 12. Grange to Cartmel and Cark.

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                                                     Hampsfell Hospice.

There are brown signs off the motorway now for the Lakeland Penninsulars. What are they?  Well, presumably Cartmel, Furness and Copeland. Lancashire previously hosted Furness and Cartmel, and hence they are included in this walk. Today I’ll briefly cover the Cartmel Peninsula, which I reached by train, although travellers of old, on foot, would have taken the perilous crossing of the Kent Estuary. From the station at Grange, I walk into the bustling town, but only as far as  S Cafe in one of the Victorian Arcades, opposite the duck pond. Once that coffee pleasantry was over, a short walk up Windermere Road and I took a signed path into Eggerslack Woods. Hampsfield rather than Hampsfell, though I hoped they would be the same. This is limestone country encircling the southern Lake District. For about a mile, I followed a good path through trees: birch, holly and yew. I suspect that this area would have been heavily coppiced in the past, perhaps for bobbins for the textile mills and for wood for charcoal burning.

Climbing a stile suddenly brings you out onto the open fell with paths going everywhere. I select a well-walked route that fortunately steers me directly to the Hospice on the summit. I kept looking behind as views over the Kent Estuary opened up with Arnside Knott dominating the coast. I was last here whilst exploring the ‘Wainwright Outlying Fells’  4 years ago, almost to the day , so I won’t repeat all the information. For more history, look here. The shelter was erected in 1846 by a vicar from Carmel for the benefit of walkers so it is not a hospice in the traditional sense. From up here, I can see down into Cartmel with the Priory prominent and behind Mount Barnard, where perhaps the first priory was established. That visit 4years ago also included an ascent of Cartmell Fell from a little church that happens to be a Chapel of Ease to today’s priory.

A steep descent brings you into the back of the village and directly to Cartmel Priory. As I  entered through the graveyard, I noticed that a large fenced off area of graves is grazed by sheep, unusual. The priory was established by William Marshall in 1188, and now all that remains is the church and a gatehouse. The Augustinians had allowed the locals to worship here, and at Dissolution, the church was spared even though its roof was destroyed. A benefactor, George Preston of nearby Holker Hall, reroofed the church in the C17. The exterior of the priory is noted for the upper tower built diagonally on the Norman one.

Once inside the grandeur of the church is revealed – a massive nave with a dominant East Window containing medieval glass. The choir stalls from the C13 – 14 are famous for their mouldings and inventive misericords. The wood has an ancient feel to the touch.

Elsewhere is the elaborate tomb of Lord Harrington, who may have slain the last wolf in the kingdom, at nearby Humphrey Head. There are graves for people lost in crossing the sands of Morecambe Bay. At one time, the Priory was responsible for providing guides for those crossings. Skull and crossbones decoratives are on several graves.

In a corner of the church is an alcove with a loaf of bread bequeathed by Rowland Briggs in the C18 to the poor of the parish, and the tradition is maintained to this day.

Completing the interest is Cromwell’s Door, which shows bullet holes either fired by villagers on the Roundheads or by the visiting army itself.

The only other original remnant of the priory is the Gatehouse on the edge of the village square. Everywhere was busy with festive celebrations.

From the village square, with its ancient cross, I walked across the racecourse to join a track going all the way to Holker Hall. Holker Hall was closed, and nothing can be seen of it from the road, although the estate buildings are of interest. Down the road, I walked into Cark alongside the River Eea on its way from Cartmell to the Leven Estuary. The station at Cark was soon reached, concluding a short but enjoyable stroll of considerable interest.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 11. Carnforth to Arnside.

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                                                                   Silverdale.

This is easy – just walk around the coast with not a single religious site to visit but a myriad of paths in an ‘Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty’

From Carnforth station, a steam train was just getting ready to head off on a Santa Special. I tramped dingy streets to find a back road leading to a bridge over the River Keer. Familiar ground led up onto the higher road above Warton Sands. The terrifying main limestone quarry was just catching the early sunlight. The views across the marshes were obscured by trees. At the end of the road is the familiar chimney at Crag Foot, all that remains of a pump house used to drain Leighton Moss.

I head across the marshes towards Jenny Brown’s Point where there is another preserved chimney, this one from a short-lived C18 copper smelting endeavour. Flocks of geese wheel above me. Across the bay, Morecambe power station appears to be in the sea.

Despite the tide being out, walking along the muddy beach doesn’t seem attractive, so I take the little lane above until I can go onto NT land at Jack Scout Cove. From up here, I can see the remains of ‘Walduck’s Wall’, an attempt to reclaim an area of land between the point and Carnforth in the mid-C19.  This disappeared beneath the sands before re-emerging in 1975 as the channels changed. I used to climb on a small limestone cliff, with perfect, water-washed handholds and fossils, hereabouts, but trying to identify it from above is difficult. I do, however, come across a limekiln which was restored some years ago, and I remember it being fired up to celebrate the event.

Back on the lane, I pass Lindeth Tower, originally built as a summer house and now available to rent as holiday accommodation.

This area holds  many memories for me; camping at Gibraltar Farm, dodging the tides at Jack Scout’s Cove, bouldering at Woodwell, cosy teas in The Wolf House Gallery and buying unusual plants from the brothers at the nursery along the road.

In Silverdale, I take the grassy path across The Lotts shown to me by Sir Hugh on a previous occasion. This takes you straight to The Cove, an enchanting place next to the sea with a prominent cave on one side. NT volunteers were out cutting back vegetation. Back on lanes, I cross the boundary from Lancashire into Cumbria. I presume my guide refers to the ‘old’ Lancashire as it heads towards Furness.

Holgate’s caravan park is massive but well laid out and maintained. I stop for a snack in a wrought-iron shelter celebrating the life of Frank William Holgate, 1941 – 2015.

A good track leads to the tottering pile of Arnside Tower, a C15 Pele tower built because of the threat posed by Border Reivers.

Looming above was Arnside Knott, another NT estate. Having climbed it many times, today I had the luxury of following woodland paths around its base. Even from this lower elevation, there were good views across the Kent estuary to Grange and Humphrey Head. I picked up a path across Red Hills Pasture and into the woods, where I became disorientated until popping out next to the cemetery. Before you knew it, I was seated in Sir Hugh’s sanctuary with a strong cup of coffee. He even gave me a lift back to Carnforth so I didn’t make it to the promenade and station in Arnside.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 10. Lancaster to Carnforth.

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                                                                 Morecambe Bay.

Another day snatched from Winter.

In his guide, John Covey follows the Lancaster Canal from Lancaster to Carnforth. That is a route I’ve walked often in the past so I decide after exploring Lancaster to follow the Lancashire Coastal Way instead.

Covey details a Lancaster Friary,  a Dominican community of preachers. [1260 until dissolution] There is no trace of any building now.

He also mentions St. Leonards Hospital established in the C12 as a leper hospital later having a church and chaplain for the poor. It closed in 1470 and all trace has gone.

Gardiner’s Hospital was established as an almshouse in St. Mary’s Gate near the castle around 1485. These almshouses were rebuilt in 1792, eventually to be sold in 1938 and the site built upon. To replace them, four almshouses were built in Queen Street. At last, I had something to seek out and find. On the way, I came across the Friends Meeting House, a Quaker building dating back to the Friends Meeting House, a Quaker building from 1708. That set me musing in this election week. would the Quakers be the ‘Greens’ of religion? what of the rest?  RC’s – Tories, CofE – Labour, Methodists – Lib Dem. We will know our fate tomorrow.

Also in central Lancaster, I already knew of the Penny Almshouses. William Penny, several times mayor, gave funds in 1715 to build 12 small houses and a chapel for ‘poor indigent ancient men and women’. They received a house, an allowance, a suit of clothes and the services of a chaplain. The plaque over the entrance records Penny’s generosity and warns in Latin, ‘profanos hinc abesse’ – those of ill-repute should keep away.  Next door,  the Assembly Rooms were built in 1759; income from events helped support the almshouses.

On my way up past the castle, I noticed another property – ‘served as a dispensary providing health care for the poor, 1785 -1833’  Lancaster has been very charitable in the past.

My object of climbing up here was to visit Lancaster Priory Church. A Benedictine priory was founded around 1094 on the elevated site, about the same time as the castle was being established on an old Roman Fort. The remains of the priory are under the Church, which was built in the C15. Becoming a parish church it avoided destruction in the Dissolution. Inside are the celebrated carved choir stalls with their misericords from 1340, two sets of impressive organ pipes, along with some beautiful stained glass.  From up on the hill, the site of the Roman Fort, a path led down and passed close to the Roman Baths.

All I had to do now was walk a dozen miles to Carnforth.

The Millennium Bridge was right in front of me, and I crossed the Lune to pick up a cycle path all the way to Morecambe. The views across to St George’s Quay had the Priory high above and a crooked house squashed in below. There was not much to see on this straight route, so I made good progress and was suddenly in front of the Midland Hotel. No, I didn’t go in for coffee. I saved that till a little later at the Lighthouse Cafe, a community cafe with a comprehensive menu. Whilst I ate toasted teacake [homage to my good friend Tony] I gazed out at Eric Morecambe bringing me some sunshine on the prom. Unfortunately, when I emerged from the cafe, the rain came down and had me scurrying for my waterproofs, which once donned, of course, the rain stopped for the day.

The promenade went on for what seemed like forever, with a few installations to distract one. Suddenly, I was free of roads and walking on the shoreline. Stoney and muddy in equal proportions. The tide was out, but following all the recent rainfall, the marshes were very boggy.  Views across Morecambe Bay were obviously extensive b,ut the background hills came and went. Ahead was the prominent but diminutive Arnside Knott.

At Red Bank Farm, busy with visitors to the cafe, I came across The Praying Shell statue carved in limestone above the sands where 23 Chinese cockle pickers died in 2004.   Artist Anthony Padgett has said a link may be made to that tragedy, but the idea was conceived before.          “Its symbolism is intended to parallel humanity’s openness to a larger dimension and the way cockle shells open as the tide comes in.” Another couple of miles of marshland with lots of channel hopping where there was no distinct path, probably underwater at high tide. I climbed to higher ground in one or two places. I must admit to being uneasy in tidal areas. The Keer Channel was a muddy mess. I finally hit solid ground on the little road running alongside the Keer and realised I’d been here before with Sir Hugh on our Way Of The Crow Walk between Longridge and Arnside. That was a very wet day 2 years ago.

I had a brief encounter with Carnforth Station before catching my train.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 9. Cockerham to Lancaster.

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                                                         Lancashire Coastal Way.

It is strange weather – one day of wind and rain, the next bright sunshine and then more rain. I take my chances on a sunny day. I’ve moved on to the northern part of Lancashire’s Monastic Way by John Convey, I may think about a link-up from Sawley at a later date. It is a clear morning with a chilly wind coming off the sea as I walk down the lane to  St. Michael’s Church, an Anglican Parish Church in Cockerham. Of course, it is closed when I arrive. The oldest part is the C16 tower. The body of the church was rebuilt by the Lancaster architects Austin and Paley.  who were responsible for much church architecture from the mid 19th century. Cockerham Priory from the C13 was situated hereabouts, but there are no remains from when it was dissolved in 1477.

Soon, I was on The Lancashire Coastal Way following flood defences, surrounded by low-tide marshes around the coast to visit Cockersand Abbey. The obvious remains are the C13 Octagonal Chapter House with a few other bits of walls from the Abbey Church. There had been a hospital on the site, which was dissolved in 1539. The land was subsequently acquired by the Daltons from Thurnham Hall, and the Chapter House used as a mausoleum, hence its preservation today. It is a bleak spot for an Abbey.

Out in the Lune estuary is the Plover Scar Lighthouse, also known as the Abbey Lighthouse, an active 19th-century lighthouse now fully automated. The last time I was along here, the lighthouse was being repaired following a collision with a commercial vessel. Nearby on the coast is the original lighthouse keeper’s cottage. The lighthouse can be reached at low tide, and in the past, the keeper would have had to attend to the paraffin lamps.

After Crook Farm, I followed what had been Marsh Lane, which disappeared under flood water at one point. Wet socks resulted.

But soon I was seated outside the friendly Glasson Cafe enjoying a coffee and pasty.

The marina was quiet at this time of year; I joined the Glasson Branch canal, which, when it was completed in 1825,  joined the Lancaster Canal near Galgate. Then, in 1883, came the railway to link to Lancaster, it was on this disused line I would continue the walk. But first, I had a look at Christ Church alongside the canal. This Anglican Parish Church was designed by Edmund Sharpe, who became involved with the Lancaster firm of Austin and Paley mentioned above. Originally built in 1840, but added to in the 20th century. I walked in to find that the west gallery has been converted into an accessible coffee/reading room. The stained glass in the east window was impressive, designed by Joseph Fisher [1979] of the Lancaster firm  Shrigley and Hunt. 

Returning to the Railway track, I crossed the River Condor and headed north, easy walking with views across the Lune estuary. To my right were the grounds of Ashton Hall, now a golf course. I could not see the hall, which was established in the C14, a tower apparently is from that date. The hall has had many owners, but in 1884 was sold to the wealthy linoleum manufacturer, James Williamson, who, when he was knighted, took the title Lord Ashton. With reference to today, he arranged to have a halt built on the railway line I’m walking on. After his second wife’s death, he had the Ashton Memorial built in Williamson Park, an elevated site seen from afar and later today.

River Condor.

Ashton Hall Golf Course.

Along the line, the hedges were loaded with red berries, no wonder lots of birds were about, Redwings and Fieldfares. A solar farm has been built near Stodday, they must have more sunshine here than the rest of Lancashire. The climb away from the line up to Aldcliffe was steeper than expected. I was now heading directly into Lancaster along the Lancaster Canal, a route I’ve used before.

Today, I had time to leave the canal and take a look at the nearby Lancaster Cathedral. In 1791, when the Roman Catholic Relief Act was passed,  local Catholics built a mission in Dalton Square. When a larger church was needed, local architect Paley designed this church for the present site, which was consecrated in 1859 and became a cathedral in 1924. The tower and spire are 240ft high, making it visible throughout the city. The interior was impressive, but with too many fussy side chapels. Some of the stained glass was by Shrigley and Hunt, mentioned at Glasson. Unfortunately, I found a lot of the information preachy; I can appreciate the stunning architecture without being religious.Time to catch my bus.

                    Lancaster with the Ashton Memorial, Cathedral and Town Hall.

*****

ANOTHER VISIT TO ROEBURNDALE.

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I ‘discovered’ Roeburndale whilst walking Wainwright’s Way between Dunsop Bridge and Hornby a couple of months ago. The route I was following dropped into the valley and climbed out just as quickly. I thought there must be a better way to explore this valley of natural woodlands. Research on the web showed some permissive paths but even those didn’t link up completely. When Sir Hugh was wanting to complete his WW trail in the area I was only too keen to revisit and investigate paths in the valley. The plan was to leave one car at Hornby, drive to the foot of Salter Fell and walk back down the hidden valley. Simple. Come the day and we struggle to negotiate the ice on the narrow steep road, expert driving by Sir Hugh. Shaken after skidding up that steep hill we consider what to do. I became nervous about returning up the hill in my car later in the day and having two cars stuck. We decided unanimously to get the hell out of here as soon as possible, so Sir Hugh in first gear retreats. The skid marks on the road were still there later in the day – good decision. The road is much steeper than the picture suggests.

Now parked up in Wray our option is to walk up Roeburndale and somehow [all a bit vague] find a circular route back. Wray is a quiet village of stone cottages which hit the headlines in August 1967 when the Rivers Roeburn and Hindburn flooded causing loss of properties, bridges and livestock but thankfully no villagers. The way out of the village is by Kitten Bridge over the River Roeburn, this was the way for workers going to Wray Mill [wool and silk] now converted into accommodation. Looking back over the village Ingleborough was prominent.

We picked up a track leaving the road at a small building and followed it into the woods quite high above the river. The path was intermittent and hidden beneath all the Autumn leaves.  In about a third of a mile, it started descending steeply and remains of wooden steps in places suggesting we were on track. Once down level with the river, there was some boulder hopping to be done and lots of fallen trees to get around. A truly hidden valley.

A meadow was then traversed to the bridge I had crossed before in the middle of those apple orchards. This time we followed the permissive footpath signs along the valley. The vague path climbed away from the river ending at a belvedere overlooking the river. Onwards we went, picking up the odd waymark and guessing, intelligently, where the path would go. We spotted a diversion to the wire bridge across the river and went to explore the other side. The bridge was exciting – slippery, creaking and swaying.   A camping barn was marked on the map and we found it after one false alarm. We gained access from the outer stairs which led into the bunk room, all very cosy. Down a ladder, we were in the kitchen with all you would need for a night’s stay. I wonder who owns/runs this place. Once back over the bridge……we pick up the permissive path once more as it contours high in the valley just in the edge of the woods. The day was passing, there was no sign of a thaw and we didn’t have a plan. My thought of returning along the fells to the east was slipping away with the daylight.  We decided to follow blindly the permissive path and cross the river by the bridge Sir Hugh had found the other day. Lots of undulations in the trees before we came out into open fields and started dropping down to the river. A muddy track led us to ‘Sir Hugh’s bridge’  which was sturdier than the last one. The path seemed to go away from the river so we made the decision to climb up to the road which would be our quickest way back to Wray. [It would have only been another quarter of a mile to Barkin Bridge and thus completing a stretch of Wainwright’s Way wholly in this delightful wooded valley.]                                                                                                                                             In parts the road was an ice rink and as I said our tyre marks were still visible from this morning. This otherwise pleasant stroll down the lanes was enhanced by views to Ingleborough, Whernside, the Howgills and the Lakeland tops.

They were just starting carol singing when we arrived in Wray.

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 8. Whalley to Sawley.

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                                                                         Sawley Abbey.

Time we visited an Abbey or two.

But first, a visit to Taste Buds Cafe for a second breakfast and coffee, what a great takeaway. Good coffee and tasty bakery.

Fortified, I wander through the graveyard of St Mary & All Saints, built on the site of an 8th-century church and a later Norman (circa 1100) church. The present church building dates from around 1200, with the tower being added in 1440. Inside are apparently ancient pews, some of which are from the Abbey. Despite several visits, I’ve been unable to see inside. The Saxon Crosses in the graveyard I’ve pictured before.

I go through the Eastern gate of Whalley Abbey to look at the remains of one of the largest monastic sites in the north. A Cistercian order started here in 1296 and was still expanding in the 15th century. There was a church, monastic lodgings and an infirmary. After the dissolution, it passed into private hands and most was demolished, so only low walls remain. The larger walls were part of the monks quarters. A manor house was built on the site and today is used as a religious centre. An image from their website gives an idea of the layout. The last Abbot, John Paslew was executed for his part in the Pilgrimage of Grace, an uprising against Henry VIII actions. The emblem of the Abbey – Three Fishes – crops up a lot in the locality.

I leave the village via the vast west gate and out under the railway into the countryside along the Calder River.

Dog walkers were out in force using footpaths that were new to me. I walked around the site of Calderstones Hospital, an institution for people with learning disabilities. Most of the site has been demolished and redeveloped for housing. Out the other side of the complex, I’m into semi-frozen muddy fields on the line of a Roman Road to Skipton, and somewhere there is a base to a medieval cross. I spent some time looking for it, backwards and forwards. Frustrated, I carry on only to stumble into the large, unmissable stone nowhere near its OS mapped site.

From this open ground I have good views of Pendle to the east… … and to the north, Longridge Fell. In this shot can be seen the domes of Stonyhurst College and, closer at hand in Mitton, the old hall and the C13 All Hallows Church. It is a shame this church isn’t visited on this walk as it is full of interest, including medieval woodwork from Sawley Abbey and memorials to the local Shireburn family, dating from the late 16th century.

Now back on the Ribble Way, I start meeting lots of dog walkers from Clitheroe. I come round a corner to see a lady with binoculars studying a tree, and she points out the kingfisher to me. Wonderful. Off it flies only for me to come across again shortly in some reeds upriver. It’s times like these that I wish I had a better camera.

The walk by the river around Clitheroe was very familiar to me, and I made good progress as the sun gradually lowered in the sky. The works at West Bradford are all too familiar. Near Grindleton, the path climbs up onto the road from where there are good views of misty Pendle.

Ahead is the bridge over the Ribble at Sawley.

I reach the  Sawley Abbey grounds with half an hour’s daylight remaining.

Another Cistercian monastery, founded in 1146, it bordered onto the lands of Whalley Monastery, and there are records of quarrels over fishing rights on the River Ribble. After dissolution, the abbot William Trafford tried to resurrect the abbey under the Pilgrimage of Grace. This failed and Trafford was hanged at Lancaster in March 1537, and the abbey immediately plundered of its valuables. Over the years, stone from the monastery was used in local buildings. On the ground, there is little left of the church, but remnants of the refectory and a grand fireplace are visible. Outside the site, earthworks connected to the monastery can be seen in the surrounding fields. I’ve now finished the first half of A Lancashire Monastic Way, from Upholland to Sawley and thoroughly enjoyed the new paths and history I’ve encountered. The next half is from Cockerham Abbey to Furness Abbey;  I’m wondering whether to devise my own walking link between the two?

*****

A LANCASHIRE MONASTIC WAY. 7. Ribchester to Whalley.

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                                                                         Whalley Arches.

I’m away early on a clear frosty morning as I continue my way linking Lancashire’s religious sites.

Walking out of Ribchester, I divert up a little lane leading to some interesting treasures. Firstly, on the left is St. Peter and St. Paul, a barn church, dating back to around 1789. At that time, it was still illegal for Catholics to have public places of worship. Therefore, it was built to appear like a barn. The church was considerably enlarged in 1877. The inside is very plain, but there are some outstanding new stained glass windows designed by Deborah Lowe and executed by Pendle Stained Glass in memory of the Walmsley family.  One celebrates the life of St. Margaret Clitherow, the York martyr whose remains are reputed to have been possibly buried in the nearby Stydd church of St. Saviour. [See below]  Margaret was crushed to death in York at Easter, and the window references Stydd, York’s shambles and minster as well as the spring season and her reputed last words: “Jesus have mercy on me.” Another window celebrates the region’s history and landscape, depicting a scene from the River Ribble. Fishes, a kingfisher, sheep and a horse are included in the scene, which shows wildflowers and a dandelion clock, suggesting the passage of time.

In the graveyard, I came across a type of ‘triptych’ gravestone of the Pratchett family. Who were they?

Across the way is a delightful small building, the Stydd Almshouses.  Built by the Shireburn family in 1728 to house the poor people of the parish. Quite unique. Even the well is listed.

Further up the lane in a field is St. Saviour’s Chapel, established in C12 – 13. Associated with it was a ‘monastic hospital’ of the Knights Hospitaliers providing accommodation and aid to pilgrims and the needy. There is no sign of the hospice, but the chapel remains, having undergone several modifications.

Fortunately, it was open this morning, so I was able to view its simple interior. The original studded south door gains entry. The most obvious initial feature above the altar is a graceful C13 window reflected in the design of the oak chairs. The Norman north doorway is blocked, but the original wooden door remains in place against it. There is a stone coffin of unknown origin and several tomb slabs on the floor of the Sanctuary. A lavishly engraved C14 one, Sir Adam and Lady de Clitheroe; a straight cross, Father Walter Vavasour 1740;  a simple cross, possibly St. Margaret Clitherow, the martyr mentioned above. High on the west wall is an old entrance from another building and possibly a gallery similar to the one in St. Michael’s Church in Much Hoole I visited a few days ago. Outside, the northern door has Norman dog-toothed carving. To complete the picture, there is also a medieval cross base in the grounds.

Back on the road, it was a short walk to Ribchester bridge over the Ribble. Here, the Ribble Way continues as a track past farms to come alongside the river. At one of the houses, I was accosted by a weather-beaten gardener and given a lesson in how to save the world through nature. The path alongside the river was very familiar to me. A couple of herons took flight, and there were cormorants this far inland. Ahead, Pendle Hill looked resplendent above the valley, and the new Dinkley Bridge shone white.

Once over the bridge, I followed lanes, on the line of a Roman Road.  Over to the left was Longridge Fell, and the green domes of Stonyhurst College could just be made out. Its origins began abroad as a Jesuit School when Catholic education was banned in England. The local Shireburn family owned the C13 hall, and their descendants donated it to the Jesuits in 1794. It has flourished as an international Catholic School to this day.

This was the reverse of a day on Wainwright’s Way a couple of months ago, so I knew my way across the fields and up past those modern static caravans to reach the Church of St. Leonard at Old Langho.

I popped into the Black Bull Inn next door for the keys to the church. Like St. Saviours at Stydd, this is a simple building. Interestingly, it was built around 1557 using stones from the dissolved Abbey at Whalley. a number of carved stones are in the exterior walls. Inside the pews have carved ends from the late C17 with initials of their benefactors. Fragments of medieval stained glass have been incorporated into the north chancel windows. The tiles in the sanctuary are Victorian.

The graveyard was extended in the early 20th century to serve the nearby Brockhall Hospital. There is a single mass grave commemorating 600 patients, but that is another story.

More lanes brought me into Whalley, where I crossed the River Calder on Old Sol’s bridge alongside the brick arches of the railway viaduct. The light was starting to fade as I came through the massive, vaulted west gate of the Abbey. It was too late to visit the Abbey, that can wait until tomorrow morning. The nearby Parish Church always seems to be locked when I pass by; it apparently has stalls removed from the Abbey. I was able to see the Saxon crosses in the graveyard before catching my bus home.

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