Hathersage

Hello from Sheffield.

Let me just say that this country is awesome. I wanted to go back to the Peaks District (directly West of Sheffield) while the weather was still nice. So, this past Saturday I boarded a train for Hathersage, an old mill town on the banks of the river Derwent – only perhaps 25 minutes outside of Sheffield by rail.

The town can trace its history as far back as a Danish settlement, the earthwork remains of which can still be seen today. Nowadays the village is as beautiful and picturesque as any in the Peaks, but in the past it was a working-class town that was known for its brass buttons and pins & needles. There was a time not so long ago when the life expectancy in Hathersage was only 30 years. This deplorable situation actually prompted one of the first labour laws in England, the Factory Act.

Hathersage on the river Derwent

Despite that rather bleak introduction, the town does have some interesting historical connections. The coolest, at least for me, is that Hathersage is both the hometown and resting place of Little John, Robin Hood’s right-hand man… well, giant. Researchers dug up and measured his femur, and from this concluded that Little John stood between seven to eight feet tall! I don’t remember reading when he died, but he first appeared in the Robin Hood ballads in 1420.

Little John's gravestone.

I had to see his grave to believe that it was true, that he actually existed. I’ve read the Adventures of Robin Hood (a long time ago) and to me that story was in the same category as that of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table; stories that I suspected weren’t true, but that I wanted to believe nevertheless. But here I was, in front of a ten foot long grave with ‘Little John’ on the head stone. I distinctly remember a point growing up - now that I’m thinking about it – when I thought Little John was my favourite of Robin Hood’s gang because he fought with a quarterstaff (aka: bow staff). I decided that if I were transported back in time, I would be a quarterstaff guy too. Don’t ask me how old I was, because even if I could remember, I wouldn’t tell you (but we lived in Sterling, I’m pretty sure). I think I’m going to have to reread Robin Hood now.

The church graveyard overlooking Hathersage.

Speaking of reading, within a stone’s throw from Little John’s grave, is the old church vicarage. It was in this house that Charlotte Bronte partially wrote Jane Eyre when she was visiting her friend in 1845. The name Eyre is a local name and the town itself appears in the book as Norton. It is also suggested that North Lees Hall is the house Charlotte had in mind for the scene where Mrs. Rochester jumps. The lady of the house during that era was said to be mad.

The vicarage where Charlotte Bronte wrote.

Considering the location and feeling the prick of my conscience for never having read the book, I bought a copy of Jane Eyre and spent the better part of the morning (when I had finished exploring the town) reading it while enjoying scones in a little flower/tea room.

Invigorated by the scones and the good weather, I decided to explore some of the surrounding hills (for Hathersage is in the moorlands, nestled in a small valley between heather-covered hills). I found a public footpath that was heading in the directions of the hills, so I decided that I would follow it for two and a half hours before turning around to catch a train home. There are literally thousands of these public footpaths that run all over the Peaks District. This particular path wound around the countryside, generally following the river Derwent.

The river Derwent.

For me, the hike was total bliss. The path wove in and out of livestock and turnip fields, sometimes in the sun, other times under massive oak trees. These trails don’t go around the fields; they just cut right through them. So I got to walk between herds of cows and horses just like any hike at home. There weren’t any goats, but there were plenty of speckled sheep. In between fields, you simply jump over the stiles (stiles let people through or over, but not animals). It actually felt a lot like fox hunting, just without the horse and a lot slower. The smell of wet horses and fresh air was like aroma therapy for me. Not like, I think it was aroma therapy.

The song that kept coming to mind while I was walking was Andrew Peterson’s Love Enough, which I copied below:

He said, "I have wandered far to yonder ocean
I have drunk from every fountain in this world
I have turned each mossy stone
And have found myself alone
But I believe there is love enough for the taking"

Well, he sat down in the sand and he took his shoes off
And he rambled on beneath the misty moon
He said, "I've spent more than I've saved
And I've kept more than I gave
But I believe there is love enough for the taking"

"Well, it covers us like rain
It washes and it stains
Poured out from heaven's cup
For you and me to drink it up
And in stubborn spite of my stubborn spite
I am loved nonetheless
I am loved all the more
And I believe there is love enough for the taking"

I watched him empty out his pockets and take his shirt off
And he smiled awhile at something in his mind
He said, "The secret of this life is found in blood and sacrifice
And so you see
There is love enough for the taking"

"Well, it covers us like rain
It washes and it stains
Poured out from heaven's cup
For you and me to drink it up
And in stubborn spite of my stubborn spite
I am loved nonetheless
I am loved all the more
And I believe there is love enough for the taking"

He said it would not be long 'til he was leaving
Then I saw this boat appear before my eyes
Then the man began to run, crying out,
"My time has come
Hallelujah
There is love enough for the taking"

Well, it covers us like rain
It washes and it stains
Poured out from heaven's cup
For you and me to drink it up
And in stubborn spite of my stubborn spite
I am loved nonetheless
I am loved all the more
And I believe there is love enough for the taking
There is love enough for the taking

I love that song.

Well, near the end of two and a half hours of just rambling along the path, I came to a road. I debated for a bit if I should just turn around and head home or if I could explore a little more. Curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to see what was beyond the next bend in the road. If there was nothing there, I would turn around.

So, I walked along the road and low-and-behold, there was a town beyond the bend. Furthermore, this town, Bamford, had a train station. That meant I didn’t have to turn back at all; I could just catch the train from Bamford. So I took advantage of this providential turn of events to explore that town, which is also quite beautiful although less historically interesting (is there such a thing in this country?).

Eventually, I got hungry for dinner so I found the Angler’s Rest, the local pub (you’d be hard pressed to find a British restaurant that was not also a pub), got some food, and settled back into my book. Interestingly, I did hear my first ‘duck’ in the pub. Not in the quacking sense, although I did see a number of Mallards and their brides on my walk, but in the human sense. You see, in Nottingham and the surrounding region girls are called ducks. I’m not sure why, actually, but it’s “thank you, duck” or “cheers, duck.” Although I had been warned about the colloquialism, this was the first time I actually heard it – incidentally from an old man with a tweed hat. Guys are usually called blokes.

The Angeler's Rest.

By the time I left the restaurant, a chilly mist had descended on the valley obscuring the closest dales, so I was thankful that the train station was so close. I caught the next train to Sheffield. By the time I got home, it was dark and drizzling – aka: hot chocolate time…

So, that was my day. It was pretty cool. Sorry that this was such a long post.

Bye for now blokes and ducks!

Will

P.S. In case you are wondering, my historical sources are mostly from the displays at the various sites, supplemented with what I could find online. Cheers.

Current Song: Bebo Norman Try

Current Book: Jane Eyre

Current Bible Reading: Exodus 33

Current Favourite Cheese: Red Leicester “A savoury nutty cheese from Taw Valley”