Summer Holiday 2023: Swaledale Part 1

Summer holidays are here and we are spending two weeks in Swaledale, in the North Yorkshire National Park. After a pretty horrendous journey up on the M6, we were looking forward to getting some fresh air and we did just that on our first day after travelling.

Our first walk was from the door of our barn and followed the Swale up to Mucker (pronounced Mooker) and back. It came in at 6.9 miles, but we'll call it 7. The half way refreshment break was at the tea shop in Mucker (pronounced tee shop). Nothing too energetic but looks to see along the way.

Our residence for the next two weeks - Millbridge Barn. Look! No neighbours.

The single span bridge over the Swale at Ivelet - more of this later.

The landscape in Swale is characterised by buildings like this one. I call them 'field barns' but the locals call them Cow’us  or Cowuss  (pl  Cow’uses) - cow houses. These cow'uses are all over the place, not quite one for every field but, in some parts, not far off that ratio.

We went into one of them being used as an example and it was quite simple and functional. They were used to house cows mainly - sheep were hardy and kept outside - over the winter months. There was room for stalls in which the animals were tethered and plenty of room for hay, straw and other food.

Lots and lots of fields and miles and miles of dry stone walls criss crossing the landscape. In this part of the world, although there are what I would regards as conventional stiles, there are breaks or 'squeezes' in the stone walls, created by vertical stones, which you can just about manage to squeeze through. More often than not, there will be a small gate on one side kept in place by a rather strong spring. This is not the place for weight-challenged people or pregnant women.

The Ramps Holme bridge over the Swale.

Looking back towards the Ramps Holme bridge. It is a long, narrow single span wooden bridge, supported in the centre by a conical stone tower, and at each end by a raised stone platform. The design raises it high above the river and well above any flood water, a regular occurrence with the Swale.

The Muker area is one of the best places to see upland hay meadows from public footpaths in the Yorkshire Dales. Some of the meadows at Muker are protected as part of the Muker Meadows Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) and the Northern Pennine Dales Meadows Special Area of Conservation (SAC). They are species-rich with a very wide range of wildflowers and grasses including Wood Crane’s-bill, Melancholy Thistle, Yellow Rattle, Pignut, Lady’s Mantles, Rough Hawkbit, Cat’s-ear and Sweet Vernal Grass. Easy access is provided via flagged footpaths.

Nah, it couldn't be. An Oystercatcher up here, so far from the sea? But, yes, they do come to this part of the world to breed. They are ground nesting birds and here's as good a place as any. Instead of their normal maritime diet of shellfish etc, they pick away at insects in the meadows..

The Muker Literary Institute was built in the 1860s by public subscription at a cost of £257 2s 7d, to provide a venue for residents (in practice men – though the constitution did not exclude women) to read and meet. Many Swaledale villages had such institutes originally built to provide adult self-education opportunities. It resonates with me as it reminds me of the Bedwas Workingmen's Hall that featured prominently in my early years.

What a lovely title - Muker Literary Institute and Mutual Improvement Society.

I find this catalogue of books in the library in September 1864 intriguing. Who decided that heavyweight tomes like Macaulay's History of England and Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress were just what was needed to get the good people of Muker reading? Or perhaps I've got it wrong. Maybe the locals demanded that these books be included. Why do I think this was somebody's idea of what should be read rather than what was wanted to read?

St Mary’s the Virgin at Muker blends in with its surroundings. It is one of the few churches to be built in the reign of Elizabeth I and was consecrated in 1580. It was originally built as a chapel of ease for St Andrew’s in Grinton, lower down the valley. It had a thatched roof and no tower. The thatch was replaced by stone slates in 1761 when pews were installed in the church. The tall narrow tower dates from 1793. The clock was paid for by public subscription to commemorate the wedding of King George V and Queen Mary. 

Colourful stained glass window above the altar depicting Christ the Shepherd.

All you need to know about hiring a hearse in Muker. By hearse, I think that it would be more like a cart than anything else.

Private Thomas Clarkson.
325648, 1st/9th Battalion Durham Light Infantry, formerly 30597, Yorkshire Regiment. Son of John and Ann Clarkson, of Richmond. Died at home of wounds on 30th April 1917. Aged 27.
"GREATER LOVE
HATH NO MAN THAN THIS
THAT A MAN LAY DOWN HIS LIFE
FOR HIS FRIENDS"

Looking back towards Mucker (pronounced Mooker) on our return leg. The clouds look more threatening than they were. We just had a few scattered showers.

And that's our residence in the mid-ground.

Look carefully and you'll be able to count three cow’uses. These date back to the late 18th and 19th century when there were more cattle kept and farms were much smaller, quite often with only one field. All of which fits with the somewhat random patchwork of fields and walls. Another factor which might have lead to the small units was the custom of 'partible' where the inheritance of farms were divided equally amongst all surviving heirs. I'm not sure how this worked out over the generations as dividing an increasingly small 'pot' seems to be counterproductive.

The Swaledale sheep are the typical breed in these parts (the clue is in the name). They are noted for their hardiness, off-white wool, curled horns and white around their nose and eyes. They taste pretty nice as well.

I presume that the house-owner has an interest in fishing?

And at the end of the walk, we are back to the bridge at Ivelet. As bridges go, I think it’s just about perfect. Form and function combine effortlessly to make something both beautiful and practical. It’s stood the test of time and survived the worst that the Swale, in full spate, can unleash. There’s no doubt whatsoever that its builders, in the late 17th century, knew exactly how to build a bridge!