The usual Leagram circuit, one I have repeated many times.
When I say usual, I don’t mean ordinary; this is a beautiful little walk in the bosom of the Bowland Fells.
My son, off work for a week, phones after lunch wondering whether I fancy a walk; I don’t need asking twice. I ponder where to go; recently we have been on Longridge Fell, down at Brock Bottoms and up Beacon Fell – the regular ones. Chipping comes to mind and the walk through the Leagram estate.
There is free parking at the village hall.
Chipping is a charming village with venerable stone properties. In the past, it has won ‘village in bloom’ competitions. And today it is certainly in bloom. We walk past the cottages of Club Row and the Cornerstone cafe, closed on Tuesdays.
Two pubs and a church. The post office/shop has the honour of being the longest continuously serving shop in the UK. A local wool merchant opened the first shop here in 1668. Since then, it has been used as an undertaker’s, a butcher’s, and, most recently, a Post Office. 
More of the church and the other pub later.
Past the old mill, with the water wheel still just visible. Past the war memorial and onto a quiet lane. 
The quiet lane takes us to the Leagram Hall estate, where a public footpath heads into the hills. Stately trees line it, though some have succumbed to recent storms. 
Leagram Hall was originally built as the keeper’s lodge for the surrounding medieval deer park, or laund. It has been associated with the Weld family for generations.
https://www.chippinghistory.co.uk/assets/documents/life-at-leagram-hall
It offers a grand view over the ancient deer park, with Longridge Fell and Pendle in the distance.
On past the sheep farm, the lane meanders into the hills with a few properties hidden away. At the base of Saddle Fell, free-range eggs for sale, a road is joined to take us back to Chipping. Out of familiarity and too much chatting, photographing becomes forgotten, except for my header effort.
Down past various old mills and properties on Chipping Brook until the millpond of Kirk Mill is reached, where two lads are trying their hand at fishing, without success. Most of the houses below here were for workers at Kirk Mill and the subsequent Berry chair works. There is ample information about the works online. Their website has fascinating modern history. Watch the Grenada video in the welcome section for some vintage footage.
This property may be remembered as the ‘showroom’ for the chairs and tables.
Back into the village by the church. 
I have things to show my son at the church. 
A Saxon font which may have been used as a plague stone. 
We take a longer look at the Berry Memorial Window, installed in 1967. It incorporates the tools of chair-making, the two ancient sources of power, water and fire, and naturally biblical symbolic representations. If you look closely, you’ll see the water wheels and cogs, chairs, and church all depicted. 
A more sinister history is associated with the churchyard. Under the ancient yew tree is the gravestone of Lizzie Dean.
Across the way is the Sun Inn and the window where the tragedy took place. A story I’ve told many times.
Lizzie was a scullery maid in the year 1835; by all accounts, a pretty and pleasant young lady, she liked to dress in colourful clothing. That year, the poor girl had the misfortune of meeting a local lad who told her he loved her deeply. He played a cruel trick on her by proposing to her, in the hope that he could have his wicked way with her. After he had carried out his plan, he told poor Lizzie that he no longer wished to marry her. Lizzie’s heart was broken in two. You can imagine the pain she must have felt; to add to her heartache, her ex-lover proposed to her best friend, and she, against Lizzie’s wishes, agreed to marry him.
On the day of the wedding at St Bartholomew’s Church, Lizzie made her way up to the pub attic overlooking the churchyard. She calmly wrote a suicide note and placed a rope around her neck, and died in the Sun Inn’s attic.
In her clenched fist was the suicide note; it read, “I want to be buried at the entrance to the church, so my lover and my best friend will always have to walk past my grave every time they go to church.”
The one thing Lizzie has done is to bring a lot of custom to Chipping; may the poor girl rest in peace!
There is far more of Chipping to explore than I have touched on today; it’s worth a visit. If it were in the Cotswolds, it would be inundated with tourists; let’s celebrate it as a Lancashire secret.
On the drive home, we stopped off at the Derby Arms in Thornley for a bite to eat. This place still feels like a country Inn. 
Outside in the beer garden is an old Fergie in good condition but painted yellow.
I wonder how many more summer’s eves like this we will enjoy as Autumn approaches.
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By the time I get to the top, I’m virtually in the clouds. A silence has descended on the fell. I enjoy the solitude.






Driving back down the fell road, I see a glimmer of brightness over the Lancashire plain against the mug on the fell. 
