Marking Time

October 15, 2025November 30, 2025 Tim Campbell-Green2 Comments

What ho, wonderful, and slightly odd, folk of the blog reading sort. I hope you are all as well as can be expected, and as we move into autumn, you get out an about as much as you can – always keeping an eye open for pottery and other interesting things.

Which sort of leads me to today’s offering. It’s a mixture, to be honest, some updates, some new stuff, but all interesting. I have said before that I always have multiple half-written articles on the go, all moving at different speeds – but for one reason or another, none leapt out at me asking to be finished. So here we are… Marking Time!

I’ve always been obsessed with the idea of humans marking their surroundings, and the notions of permanence, even immortality, that accompany this; from palaeolithic cave art to bronze age cup and ring markings, to 17th century building datestones, to Victorian carved graffiti, to modern tags – and I’m looking here at you, Boof, whose name is everywhere around Glossop at the moment – it all amounts to broadly the same thing: marking time.

Datestones update: As always, I am on the lookout for more datestones of a pre Victorian date (pre-1837). I recently bagged this:

Wonderful – ‘I.M. 1703’ – to the point, although I have no idea who I (or more likely J) M is. I have a whole article about Herod Farm and the surrounding area in progress, but wanted to share the datestone with you.

*UPDATE*

The always knowledgeable Roger Hargreaves emailed me a comment he tried to post on the site – technical issues prevented it, but here it is:

The “JM” on the Herod Farm datestone will be John Morton, who in 1692 succeeded his father, also John, as leaseholder of the adjacent Lees Hall. It’s likely that he then demolished the mediaeval hall which had been the main farming base of the Talbots and before them Basingwerk Abbey as Lords of the Manor. At the rear of Herod Farm is an elaborate window which has clearly come from somewhere else and is likely to be surviving fabric from the demolished hall, giving some idea of what it must have been like.

So there we have it – John Morton, and a teaser about the Lees Hall – a fascinating place, with a long history, and possibly a moat! Well worth an article and more. Thanks Roger, your input is always much appreciated.

Update to the Gatepost article: We recently bought a campervan, a mobile home with beds and a stove, and all that. It’s marvellous, and is unmissably yellow, or more truthfully YELLOW! (give a shout and wave if you see it around). Our first adventure camping was to Peak Forest, near Buxton, and coming home we decided to take an odd route for the sake of exploration – a vehicular Wander, if you will. Coming through Wheston, south-east of Chapel-en-le-Frith, we came across lots of gateposts, modern and made of concrete, but each marked with initials and dates:

I have no idea who CTH is – presumably the farmer who is replacing gateposts – but I salute your attention to detail – initials and date – and respect your devotion to tradition; earlier, 19th century, examples of dated gateposts can be found here. It might be concrete, but the idea is exactly the same, and I want to buy you, CTH, a glass of the stuff that cheers. Wonderful.

Next we have things seen on pavements… Glossop seems to have inherited the whole street paving slabs second-hand from somewhere. I seem to remember a whole hoo-ha about these stones, and others, occurring maybe 20 years ago – their origin and how much was paid for them… or something. Whatever, but what is certain is that they have some interesting markings on them, and all of these were seen between Costa Coffee and the Norfolk Arms – almost certainly more await discovery, so look down people:

A simple cross, formed of two chisel strokes.

‘1 – 7’ with the ‘1’ formed apparently by three chisel strokes, the ‘seven ‘7’ by three down and two across. No idea of the meaning.

A cross, and a hole filled with a lead plug. It’s difficult to imagine what this large flat stone would need a hole with a lead fixing for – it’s not like it was used for a gatepost or similar. I genuinely cant imagine what or why!

Finally we have this beauty:

So, we have a name in the bottom left, clumsily written – ‘Joseph’ something or other… D? B? Can anyone make out this? The second letter could be an ‘E’. Possibly. But then we have what might be a landscape – the top right looks like a fat sun, drawn by a child, to me. And in the centre, at the bottom, possibly a house (I think I can see the roof and walls, with perhaps a person in it). This is really an enigma – a name, and a piece of art, undatable, and probably from a place far from Glossop… but imagine if we could put a person to it. And all this, lying under our feet.

Other bits and pieces under our feet include markings on kerbs:

A simple ‘T’, probably referring to Telephone, and marking where the cable came into a property.

This is also sometimes marked by ‘GPO’ on kerbs, standing for General Post Office who were originally (from 1880’s until 1981) responsible for telephone communications. I once found an example on a kerb on Howard Street, but had not been able to find it since, until I came back from a blood test at the clinic there, and this was picked out of the dark by street lights:

Wonderfully carved, this was, I assume, where the telephones for the train station entered the buildings.

Another ‘T’, but this one in Old Glossop seems to have an errant exclamation mark after it!

Another slightly odd kerbside marking – an ‘E’, which is believe marks the place where electricity cables enter a property. It is quite common, although in this case it is accompanied by an ‘S’ and a ‘T’, the meaning of which I have no idea.

I also saw this on Princess Street – another marker showing where electricity enters a property – this is also quite a commonly found one.

A no frills, very clear and functional, EL!

Here’s another mark that is commonly seen: a simple arrow, but not like the Ordnance Survey benchmark arrow, this is normally crudely carved, thin, and without the horizontal line above it… thus:

This is another of those that points to a service – gas, possibly, or electricity – entering a building, although I truthfully don’t know… any help would be welcome.

However, here is a Benchmark, newly found by me, under the railway bridge on Arundel Street, and which marks 501ft 8″ above sea level:

Worn, and almost camouflaged, there it is.

Also on the bridge are these single holes, often found in the upper part of the stone:

And here…

These small, shallow, holes were made in order to use a pincer, or external, Lewis and frame in order to move the blocks. A genius invention, it’s a simple iron tool that, via a chain, uses the weight of the block itself to hold it fast whilst it is moved, and enables even a single person to shift a huge piece of stone. But it requires a shallow hole in order to provide a point that gives a good grip. I love these, as they allow us to view how the bridge was built.

Another example of us viewing the method by which these wonderful Victorian structures were built is this:

Often occurring in pairs, these are drill marks made by quarrymen, into the rock face, which allow them to insert a splitter to pry away the stone from the quarry face. Once seen, they are very recognisable, and are the scars that show how, with a little physics and a lot of brute force, rock can be shifted.

Howard Street, which meets the Arundel Street bridge, has a few, sporadic, mason’s marks along the stretch of railway walling here:

Low key, and not very common, these nonetheless represent the ‘signatures‘ of the men who shaped these stones. The cross is a common mark carved on stones – it is literally two strokes with a chisel – so it cannot be definitively linked to those masons who built Dinting Arches, but you never know.

Other mason’s marks can be found around…

This is found on a lump of masonry from Wood’s Mill, and now stands where Wood’s Mill once stood, now Glossop Brook View, and by the houses there. Post-1842 in date, although possibly early, the mark was hidden until the mill was demolished – the rough dressing of the block indicates that it was never meant to be seen. I wonder who ‘B’ was.

This last one is on the gatepost of the Crown Inn, Victoria Street (although the gates are on Hollincross Lane); very faint – and difficult to photograph – they are in the angular shape of a fish.

I also spotted this on Howard Street:

A dated piece of cement. This is either dated proof of work done – a modern form of mason’s mark – or possibly a dated repair that allows Network Rail to observe cracks forming and assess integrity. Either way, it’s kind of cool!

Finally, some bits of carved graffiti, a particular favourite of mine.

A single ‘J’ on the wall of Heath Barn, Heath.

Also on the north wall of Glossop churchyard, on Church Street – initials – R C J W P. The arrangement is odd, and I wonder if they were 4 members of a single family, with the surname ‘J’. That could surely be traced if it was the case!

These last two were from the bridge over the Longdendale Trail on Padfield Main Road. The whole bridge has a lot of graffiti carved on it, including this wonderful example:

Old and the new. I love this photograph, and am very proud of it!

Here we have Victorian carved graffiti – ‘J.H’, possibly, along with some more letters, undecipherable under the frost, over an early incarnation of the now famous (infamous) BOOF graffiti tag made with a spraycan. I find it interesting that we would condemn one, but praise the other as historical and interesting. When does vandalism become history and worthy of study? A bigger discussion, and one I find fascinating (akin to when does something become archaeology?). I know graffiti, as in modern graffiti – put it down to a misspent youth and a love (despite appearances to the contrary) of Hip Hop – and I have followed BOOF’s career with a certain interest.

So here I shall leave it. Making marks, and marking time – it’s all about trying to achieve immortality, to leave your mark long after you are gone, and making people remember you, even if they don’t know who you are. I think that’s all any of us, myself included, can hope for. There are so many examples of this phenomena in the Glossop area, and I have an idea to produce a book looking at precisely this sort of thing – watch this space.

Talking of books, please check out Where/When Number 7 – Forts and Crosses: A Mellor Wander.

This one is a truly awesome Wander around Mellor – just over yonder! It has medieval field systems and farms, Victorian noise, an Iron Age hill fort, medieval crosses, cracking views, a terrifying viaduct, bench marks, a trig point, wonderful gateposts, and it starts and finishes at a pub… what’s not to love? Here’s the cover to tempt you.

Available from the shop, link above, or from Dark Peak Books and Gifts, High Street West, Glossop. Or, you know, just track me down and throw money at me.

Talking of which… if you enjoyed this, and fancy buying me a glass of the stuff that cheers, then please do so via this link to my Ko-Fi page. I do what I do here because I love doing it, and I feel it’s important we explore our shared heritage… but I’ll never say no to a pint in thanks!

So much more news to share, and so many things planned. Watch this space, wonderful people, as big things are coming.

But on a serious level, how are you doing? Genuine question. Personally, I’m a little down at the mo… the devastating loss of my brother (cheers Stephen, I’ll miss you), coupled with a dose of Covid, and the general malaise that accompanies the move from summer into autumn and winter, has meant a lull in the festivities here at CG Towers. Still, the wheel turns, the seasons they change, and life will inevitably continue, and on we go. But as I always say, look after yourselves and each other, you really are important, and too often we say “I’m aright” when we actually mean “I’m not alright, please help” – it’s ok to not be ok.

So then, more coming, but until next time, I remain.

Your humble servant,

TCG

Archaeology · Bench Marks · Graffiti · Standing Stones

Gateposts

July 8, 2025July 8, 2025 Tim Campbell-GreenLeave a comment

What ho, lovely people of the blog world. I hope you are all well as we hurtle headlong into summer, each of us fearing what terrible weather will mar an otherwise splendid season. Nevermind, this too shall pass and all that, and indeed we must grasp the nettle by the horns, or something, and make H whilst the S shines…

Today’s post is one of those brought about by happy coincidence, where a series of events conspire, almost waving at you, until you finally notice and say, loudly, “what ho… a blog post!” Or, in this case, a Gate Post. The first event was posting a few photographs on Twitter and Instagram (@roberthamnett on Twitter, and @timcampbellgreen on Instagram, for those of you who might fancy checking it out). Turns out I’m not the only one who likes a good gatepost or two. And then the next event was my seeing a tiny piece of metal in the soil whilst doing a recce for a Where/When (No.7, to be precise… Of Forts and Crosses: A Mellor Wander). All will become clear, honestly.

For years now I have been obsessed with gateposts. Mundane, utilitarian, and always overlooked, a good gatepost can be as interesting as a prehistoric standing stone to me, and truthfully, there is often very little difference: both made of stone, both standing upright, both important in the past, and also in the present. And if anything, gateposts have more interesting features! I mean, obviously prehistoric is fascinating, but they don’t really give us much to go on, whereas the later gateposts… well, read on.

They can be decorated – often just roughly dressed.

A simple rough dressing, to shape it in a uniform manner.

But sometimes some thought has gone into them, to create a pleasant design – which for a utilitarian functional object seemingly goes beyond what is needed.

A simple cross, surrounded by a border. I say simple… it takes some doing.

I mean, the only time you see the gateposts is when you are opening a gate to let sheep or cattle in and out, and it’s probably not something you’d see everyday. And even if you did, it’s only for a moment or two, it frankly doesn’t matter if it looks good, and I doubt farmers are wandering around making snarky comments about the plain decoration of another farmer’s gateposts. So why? What is the purpose behind them? I don’t mean they had some sort of secret meaning behind the decoration, rather they simply represent someone’s choices, but why those choices I wonder? Possibly it’s probably more to do with pride in the work taken by the stonemason who shaped it, perhaps a form of identifier: we know it’s person X who shaped it, as he always decorated it with a cross. But then there are those that go beyond simple decoration, and instead turn it into a work of art.

This is wonderful! The way it shifts from the upper band with a circular motif, to the lower aspect with the herringbone pattern is amazing. A lot of effort went into this.

This too, is truly wonderful. The circular motif, with a border, is just amazing. This post seems to be in the reddish Cheshire sandstone, which makes sense given that it, and the last gatepost was found in the Mellor area, rather than Glossop.

Other times, we find words and dates on gateposts. Often these are faded and barely legible, the weather and environment are not kind to these solid sentinels, and they have no shelter.

‘1856’, on the track from Fieldhead Farm to Whitfield Cross.

I went all arty with this shot… I’m quite proud of it! ‘1874’ in a very similar hand to that of the above gatepost – I wonder if it was the same person? This is on Kidd Road, just before its junction with Derbyshire Level.

Multiple ‘B’, ‘D’, and ‘O’ – from a post just by Fieldhead Farm.

The Ordnance Survey often use them to carry benchmarks – after all they’re not likely to be moved, and so are a safe and permanent marker for heights above sea level.

The line above the arrow is 682 ft above sea level, precisely.

I love this photo… the grass almost mirrors the benchmark. Oddly, I don’t have a height for this mark – for some reason, no OS map I have come across shows its existence. Strange.

The fixtures and fittings of gateposts always fascinate me, too. Cast iron hoops and hooks, held in place by the tell tale grey/blue of lead. Sometimes you can only see the lead, the actual latch or pintle missing, it’s function no longer having purpose – it is just now a standing stone.

A now missing something or other, the metals eroding, staining the stone. It can get so bad that it actually kills the moss and lichen.

More something or other, now missing, but once important. The lead fixing is a tell-tale sign that the iron whatjamacallit is missing. I honestly love this, it really does show my theory of objects having a biography.

This is lovely… beautiful cast iron eyelet, twisted and shaped whilst red hot, and then held in place with lead. Although no longer needed to make the gatepost function – the modern steel gate does that (leaving it’s own scars on the stone) – it remains a part of its history.

Multiple phases of use, each leaving a mark.

Again, scars, but once meaning, purpose.

It was actually one of the lead fixings that I found that partly inspired this post. I saw what was obviously lead sticking out of the ground, and bending to remove it as I always do – it’s really not good for the environment – I realised it was bigger than I expected. I studied it for a moment trying to work out what it was, when suddenly: “aha” I thought “that’s a fixing“.

You can see rust on the inside, where the iron whatsit was held in place.

Looking at this lump, and using a small diagram, you can see what it is and how it worked. The long hollow through the middle once held the iron fixture – a pintle or latch, perhaps.

The iron whatsit was circular in section.

The shape of the lead piece is also a clue to how it actually held this in place. A hole is made into the side of the gatepost that needs the ironwork on it, with the lower part of the hole made deeper. The ironwork is placed in the hole, and the molten lead poured in using a funnel to hold it within the stone and around the iron whilst it cools.

When hardened, it forms a plug that is very difficult to move, keeping the iron work in place; clever, and elegantly simple. It’s also nice to see the ‘inside’ of the gatepost, or rather a cast of the inside, and one wonders why the lead has come away so intact from its original home – one can only imagine that the post itself was broken, freeing this fixing, which then found itself at my feet in the wilds of Derbyshire years later.

In terms of dates for these gateposts – well, it’s not clear. I think the more uniform stones, with a rounded head, are Georgian and Victorian – later 18th and 19th century. However, there are some that I think are significantly older – 17th, 16th, even 15th century, possibly. These are generally less formally worked, are shorter, and importantly are characterised by having a single straight hole through the stone a few feet above the ground.

Another arty shot, this one of the ancient gatepost on Hague Street.

Carrhouse Lane, Whitfield. And no, I didn’t stick my hand in the hole…

I was, until fairly recently, convinced that these were marker stones for trackways, the square hole perhaps taking a wooden pointer. However, I started to notice that this didn’t always fit the pattern, and despite multiple blog articles, twitter posts, and it even published in Where/When, I began to doubt this explanation. I then received an email that pretty much confirmed it for me (thank you PB, you amazing man!). In it, the author quoted a John Farey, whose 1815 book – General View of the Agriculture and Minerals of Derbyshire: With Observations on the Means of Their Improvement. Drawn Up for the Consideration of the Board of Agrigulture [sic] and Internal Improvement – gave the following quote:

Anciently, the Gates in the Peak Hundreds were formed and hung without any iron-work, even nails, as I have been told; and some yet remain in Birchover and other places, where no iron-work is used in the hanging: a large mortise-hole is made thro’ the hanging-post, perpendicular to the plane of the Gate, at about four feet and a half high, into which a stout piece of wood is firmly wedged, and projects about twelve inches before the Post; and in this piece of wood, two augur holes are made, to receive the two ends of a tough piece of green Ash or Sallow, which loosely embraces the top of the head of the Gate (formed to a round), in the bow so formed : the bottom of the head of the Gate is formed to a blunt point, which works in a hole made in a stone, set fast in the ground, close to the face of the Post. It is easy to see, by the mortise-holes in all old Gate-Stoops, that this mode of hanging Gates was once general.

Of course, it made sense, despite me banging on about them being marker stones. So, please accept my apologies for this; I am not always correct, and my knowledge is always growing. And thank you PB, who brought this to my attention – this is your discovery, not mine (you can read the book here – P.92 is the quote. There are about 20 of these gatepost types I know of, with many more awaiting discovery. And I actually think these are quite significant, as if we plot their location on a map, we might get a better grip on land use in the pre-industrial period. Marvellous.

I am obsessed with gateposts, and I want you to be, too. Everytime I pass one, I check it out, and often I am rewarded with some nugget of information, graffiti, decoration, or just a blast of the past. Let me know what you find via the contact page, and let’s keep an eye out for those holed ancient stones.

Right, I think that’s all for this month, and lucky you the next post will, I suspect, be a pottery post! Woohoo! I have found lots of cool stuff recently, and it all needs writing about. As always, I have about 30 projects ongoing, not all of which is coming to fruition anytime soon, but some will emerge relatively rapidly – watch this space. In the meantime, do please check out the Etsy store, or the Ko-Fi page – and feel free to buy me a ~~beer~~ coffee, or yourself a copy of Where/When, or even a t-shirt!

But until next time, please do look after yourselves and each other. I know I always say that, but you all matter, and we all need to take better care of each other… the world can be scary place at times, so lets band together and help each other.

And as always, I remain.

Your humble servant,

TCG