May 24, Day 4 in the Peak District

He Said:

We had a beautiful sunny day today, but the warmth did slow us down a bit, and it took longer to get back to our room. We are both tired after the long walk, but we were able to experience many sights and sounds along the river, under the viaduct, and up through the dale. The last stretch of 2 miles was along stone walls, green fields of sheep or cows, and blue skies. Our feet are sore, but we are so glad we did it.

She said:

Today’s walk took us to Mondale, another beautiful dale in the Peak District National Park. We walked along a crystal clear river with plenty of foot-long trout (Private Fishing Only – Poachers Prosecuted!).

The Monsal Viaduct loomed large ahead. In the Victorian times, it served as a train track over the dale for the Midland Railway.

The scenery was heaven-sent… wildflowers galore, a small footbridge over a burbling stream, and on to a beautiful country-gentleman type farm. Even a rooster crowing. The trail took us to the top of the viaduct for long views up and down the valley.

In the near distance, we could see a very grand building – manicured grounds and horses in the meadow; a country house or estate or hotel or school?

None of the above.

Once we walked to it, we were a bit dismayed to learn that it was the Cressbrook Mill, built in 1787 for the cotton cloth and lace-making industries. The sweet cottages around the property were once “apprentice” cottages, used to house the mill workers.

The mill workers turned out to be orphan children from the cities in England who were trained out to the mill to work. Child labor, and plenty of it.

And now? Luxury apartments.

(An aside about the earlier-mentioned Well Dressing – All the villages around the Peak District dress their wells and each, in turn, holds a fair or a festival wrapped around the dates of the dressing. Tissington is the first village and Hartington, where we are staying, is the last. Our hostess, Helen has a cousin who lives in the village of Tissington, whose Well Dressing Festival is tomorrow. Helen told us that the dressing is a great honor that it is passed down in families, from generation to generation. Helen’s cousin, Nancy, traces her dressing back to her great-Grandmother. The designs are elaborate and intricate and laborious. The board that holds the dressing is soaked in the village pond. Then, the board is plastered in clay. The picture (design) is traced onto the board, using a pointer to score the clay. Alder tree cones are used for the outline. Then, petal by petal and twig by twig and seed by seed, the design is filled in. The petals must overlap, from top to bottom, so that if it rains (ha!) the rain will run off the board.

The origins are Pagan, but in the Peak District villages, they now commemorate the fact that during the Plague, in an unusually hot summer – when wells would have normally dried up – the wells kept their water. This was considered a blessing as Plague deaths would have been even more numerous if there hadn’t been any water.)

After the Cressbrook Mill, the fields and stone walls and blue sky and puffy clouds seemed almost surreal in their beauty. Again today we saw brand new lambs who could barely stand up and cow Moms moving to stand between us and their calves as we walked through their pastures.

Then we arrived at the jewel in today’s crown… the village of Eyam – the Plague village. The Plague, Black Death, of 1665 was raging in London, but the countryside was relatively untouched, because of their isolation. All that changed when a tailor in Eyam received a bolt of cloth in a package from London. His house girl though it seemed damp, so shook it out (!) and hung it in front of the fire to dry it. The Plague spores jumped for joy and the Plague was on.

In a 14-month period, a third of the villages died.

The Reverend convinced the village to accept a self-imposed quarantine so as to spare the surrounding villages Eyam’s fate.

During that time, surrounding villages would bring provisions to a “Boundary Stone” at the edge of the Eyam. The stone had shallow holes carved into the top where Eyam villagers could leave some payment for the goods. The shallow holes were filled with vinegar and the coins submerged in that to be sure no Plague spores would be transferred.

We spent some time in the small but excellent Plague Museum (its logo is a rat!) then walked through the village and traced the life (and death) of Eyam through signs on buildings and a card that our walking company had included in today’s packet.

Saw the cottage where the first death occurred.

Saw some graves of the victims.

Saw some morbid wall paintings on the old Church walls.

Saw Lydgate, the old original gateway into the village that was guarded each night by a watchman.

Eyam has placed descriptive boards at each building and/or site where something significant happened during the Plague year.

It was a fascinating peek back to a grim time.

All in all, a cracking good day!

Miles: 8.7

Photos:

Monsal Dale area