Dutton, like Mitton, is a scattered community, a few houses here and there. It is bounded on the south by the River Ribble and stretches high up onto Longridge Fell.
This evening, recently the days have been showery but the evenings sunny, I wanted to explore again the gorge-like Duddel Brook which runs through the middle of Dutton. Since I was last here I have read a little more and found some old maps of the area necessitating another visit to examine the Dutton mill remains. On one map it is labelled as a Bone MIll which suggests to me grinding bones to manufacture bone meal but another source implies a combing mill, comb as in cotton spinning rather than hair care. Perhaps it was both at different periods. Whatever, there is a weir, a mill race or leat, a millpond and a wheelhouse to be discovered.
My path through fields is clear and soon I enter the wooded valley and come across the wheelhouse. Above is a large mill pond partially silted in. From there I can trace a mill race above the stream to a weir where the water was diverted. All very plain to see.
My way onwards up the valley crossed a footbridge and climbed high on the western bank before dropping back down near a waterfall where the water was forded, there were no stepping stones. All very delightful.
Back out in open fields hares dashed away in front of me. I came out onto the main road near the junction with Gallows Lane. One of the ‘slate poems’ that have appeared during lockdown was propped up here.
I crossed the road to a driveway and followed it down past the barking dog at Grindlestone [grind stone] Farm. The track was bordered by an old iron railing usually the sign of an estate boundary. If I had continued I would have come onto the Ribble Way into Hurst Green but I turned off at an unsigned and apparently little used bridleway.
From up here, there were views down to the River Ribble at Sales Wheel. I found it difficult to find the way through the copses but then picked up white markers taking me to the Ribble through Dewhurst Farm with its piles of logs for firewood.
A nice little path through meadows brought me out onto Gallows Lane near those picturesque cottages of Lower Dutton. The origin of the name of the lane possibly goes back to the days when serious miscreants were tried at the town courthouse in the White Bull, Ribchester, and taken to gallows at the upper end of the lane, A sobering thought for maybe stealing a sheep.