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 · Mason's Marks · Pottery · Pottery Guide

A Fireplace Finds Frenzy

September 25, 2025September 26, 2025 Tim Campbell-Green3 Comments

What ho! Autumn is here… it was cold this morning, and leaves are already turning, and hopefully this article will be published on the Autumn Equinox. Probably. I mean to say… that’s what I’m aiming for*. It’s been a very weird and stressful week or two for a variety of reasons too complicated to go into here, but in the spirit of hopefully moving on, I present this short(ish) offering, which I hope satisfies at least the craving for pottery.

*Ok, so I failed… but only by two days.

So, I have a large inglenook style fireplace in my house, and the hearthstone in front of the wood burner in said fireplace has, much to the annoyance of Mrs CG, become something of a drying and sorting zone for the bits and pieces I have found along the course of my normal life! And precisely because the nights are getting colder, and the burner might need to be used soon, I am forced to clear up the archaeology. Well… hold my glass of stuff that cheers, as the saying goes, the challenge has been accepted.

It’s interesting in that it represents a sort of snapshot of the kinds of things I have found very recently, and actually from all over, too, not just Glossop. I’ve also tried to keep to my new rule of only keeping things that I find interesting, or that you might find interesting – so no more simple and plain Blue and White Transfer Printed Ware or similar. And in all honesty, I won’t keep some of this, and I’ll return it. Anyway – here we go.

First up, a Derbyshire Salt Glaze Stoneware bottle base, with a diameter of 8cm – you can see the ‘orange-peel’ effect of the salt glaze on the exterior. It probably contained some form of drink, perhaps alcoholic, and although they often contained ink, too, I think it would have been to nice for that, with the fancy groove running around the bottom. The interior is also glazed, and has wonderful grooves, evidence of how the bottle was hand made on a potter’s wheel.

The rising of the grooves on the inside, showing where the potter pulled the clay into the bottle shape.

Next up is this lovely teacup sherd in an unusual colour. Measuring 9cm in diameter, it seems to have straight sides, and is decorated with what might be a tree in front of stormy clouds, or perhaps just clouds, in a brown and yellow transfer. It’s probably 20th century in date, and it’s odd, but I quite like it.

Found in Alexandra Park, Oldham, having been dug out of a badger’s sett in the woods.

Next up, a chimney…

A tiny sherd of transfer printed ware, dating to the late Victorian period, and showing what was probably a cottage scene, of which the roof and chimney is the only bit to survive. I couldn’t leave that behind, could I? Found on the footpath by Pyegrove, Glossop.

Next we have a…

…copper roof nail. Found at the top end of Whitfield Cross, the result of someone having roof work done, with the old nail being pulled out and the slate replaced. Contrary to what I had thought, the nail is not bent accidentally, but rather it is driven into the wooden battens a short distance, and then bent over deliberately in order to secure the slate in place. Lovely stuff; I love the colour, but also the square shape in section of the shaft. I wrote a little about them and how they were made, here, and oddly they seem to seek me out – I’m always finding them in the street, and I have hundreds!

Next up, a Victorian clay pipe stem:

Awful shot, but I think I am due to get a new phone soon…

The pipe stem and mouthpiece is to the left, and the bowl should have been to the right – the bit that sticks down is the spur of the pipe. This sort of thing.

Interestingly, the spur – designed to keep the pipe from rolling around and to keep the hot bowl from burning surfaces – has a circular (or annular) maker’s mark or decoration on it. I have no more information to offer, sadly, but I think it is quite a common marking. Love it!

I also love this:

A lovely sherd of Victorian Hand-Painted pottery. You can see (through the mud – apologies) the individual brush strokes that make up the delicate blue flower that once adorned a probable . I have the next Rough Guide to Pottery planned that, among other pottery types, looks at this Hand-Painted stuff; you lucky people, you! Anyway, enough of the shouting and cursing… this was also found on the Pyegrove path, as indeed was this next one:

I think this was well used and quite worn when it went into the ground.

It’s a sherd of Industrial Slipware, in a lovely pale grey colour, and, measuring a diameter of 14cm, it’s probably a rim to a Georgian/early 19th century Mocha Ware open bowl, perhaps like this:

Found on the internet and shamelessly stolen – you could have bought this lovely example from only $225, which is probably well worth it.

The next two were found on the track from Pyegrove to Old Glossop – along the track to Hall Fold:

and…

And a bit of a body sherd – tiny, really, but characteristic.

The first sherd is a rim sherd from a large open bowl or plate, and is in a 17th century Midlands Yellow Ware. It’s impossible to get a rim diameter – despite being a rim sherd – because it is such a small fragment (thus we see the limits of the Rim Chart). However, it is chunky and well made, so it is likely to be large, and as it is a relatively fine fabric, so it is likely to be later in date. Probably.

The second sherd is a fragment of a Manganese Glazed vessel. Honestly, I have no idea about the shape – most are open, rather than a closed shape, and this has glaze on the interior and exterior, which also suggests open shape. Date… 17th to very early 18th century.

Both of these are lovely bits, and really bring home the age of these trackways that I keep banging on about! I have a future blog post planned… don’t worry.

Next is this wonderful thing:

The low evening sunlight really brings out the features.

A single piece of lead came – window lead. This lead came held the small pieces of window glass together to make up a window, and is made by squeezing the lead through a former, whose cogs leave grooves in the lead. It seems that, as a rule of thumb, the smaller the gaps between these ‘reeds’, the newer the came, and vice versa. So it seems that this piece of came is quite early – 17th, or possibly 16th century? It was found on the banks of Erwood Reservoir, near Buxton, along with a whole pile of other 17th century material (the subject of a future article, especially as it very much mimics the same material found on the valley sides around here). This is the fabric of a long lost farm, and I wonder who last looked through the glass it once held.

And to finish this ramshackle wander around my hearthstone, I present the following: a mason’s mark from the railway bridge at the bottom of the Hayfield Road (A624) at Chinley.

Here’s what it looks like:

A rough sketch from my catalogue of mason’s marks in the area.

I realise that it’s not really a fireplace related thing, but I like this sort of thing, and so do most of you, and besides… I don’t know where else to put it! It’s one of several examples of this mark on the bridge, and has maddeningly resisted me taking a photograph for one reason or another. However, the other day we were travelling in our new camper van, and all the planets aligned, and I managed to get this snap! Whilst very similar, it’s not like any of the others in the area that I have documented, and whilst this is disappointing, it makes sense as there were hundreds of stonemasons working on building the rail network in the early to mid-Victorian period (the line here was opened in 1867). This whole area is interesting, and following the construction of the railway, the road system was monkeyed around with, with roads no longer connecting, or moved over and replaced by newer ones. I should explore it a little, who knows what might be uncovered.

In terms of mason’s marks, I’m still toying with the idea of a project that studies all the marks, to catalogue, photograph, and cross reference them. If anyone fancies coming with me on a few walks to make this happen – from Broadbottom to Longdendale, and then the Chinley Line, perhaps – give me a shout.

So, there you go, the Fireplace Finds Frenzy… I hope you enjoyed it.

More soon, honestly. But until then, I know I say this every month, but please do look after yourselves and each other; I have recently learned just how important this is, and in particular, you never know when your time is up.

And as always, 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

Archaeology · Longdendale · Pottery · Where / When

Torside Sherds & Walls

June 4, 2025June 14, 2025 Tim Campbell-GreenLeave a comment

What ho, what ho, what ho!

Well, this last month or so has been splendid in terms of weather, what? And indeed much has been done outside – archaeology and Where/When stuff.

Anyway… pottery as promised!

So… Master CG has taken up Windsurfing, which is to be applauded. Like a fish to water you might say, and he’s quite good, apparently (the instructors seem to be very pleased). This means that for a few hours at a weekend, myself and Mrs CG get to relax at the wonderful Glossop Sailing Club (who I cannot recommend highly enough – they are simply amazing), and in the neighbourhood of the wonderful Torside Reservoir in the Longdendale Valley, surrounded by the glacial formed hills; it’s truly a wonderful landscape.

Torside Reservoir is the fourth, and largest, in the Longdendale Chain of reservoirs which flooded this part of the valley in 1864. It is named after Torside Farm, first mentioned in the baptism of Alycia Hadfield in All Saint’s, Glossop, on 16th July 1621. Now whilst this may be the first mention, for two reasons I had a feeling the farm would be older: firstly, Alycia clearly had parents who didn’t just pop into existence in 1621. And secondly, if a place is good for farming in the 17th century, it would have been good in the 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries.

Torside Farm on 1882 OS map, borrowed from the National Library of Scotland website

Interestingly, this first mention in the parish register was actually written as “Thorsett” which, like many others in those pages, is a remarkable fixed record of the local dialect and pronunciation of the 17th century; the clerk asks “where do you live” and the answer from the parent is “Thorsett”, which is then written precisely as said, in clipped northern tones. Even as late as the 19th century, spellings of names and places is not fixed, and confusingly there is often quite a range of spellings for a single farm. Alas, the farm seems to have been demolished by the 1960’s, probably by the water board, and where it stood is now the carpark and public toilets.

Now, knowing this, and whilst young CG was floundering in the somewhat chilly waters, I went for a wander with the hope of finding something interesting and ceramic with which to entertain you wonderful people. Along the edge of the water, and up to the road I walked; I didn’t know what I was looking for as such, more a vague sense that something would be there, this close to an early 17th century farmhouse. And lo! What wonders did appear…

Firstly, I noticed two long walls amidst the general stony foreshore. Made from large boulders that would have, at one time, been plentiful in the fields; they were a convenient source of stone, as well as clearing the fields allowing them to be ploughed effectively.

A 30cm ruler in the foreground as a scale: I am professional… just on a budget!

Torside Reservoir, Longdendale: valley, pylons, windsurfing Master CG (and others) in full view… along with a mysterious wall running into the distance.

They would originally have stood higher, with this being the foundation course, and the size of the stones, combined with the lack of any map evidence, suggests an early, possibly medieval, date. There is a rough guide to dating walls in this area and hereabouts:

Taken from John Barnatt and Ken Smith’s highly recommended The Peak District: Landscapes Through Time. It’s based on data from Roystone Grange, and whilst it might be over simplistic, it does illustrate how walls changed over time.

It is a rough guide, and isn’t probably applicable everywhere, but it does serve to show differences in how walls were built. I honestly don’t know what these are, but I’m presuming field boundaries for a long lost field system. There are medieval field walls in Tintwistle, and they do look like this, but equally I have seen field clearance walls that date to the Bronze Age that look similar. The following is a rough map and rough measurements – maybe I should go back and really survey the walls properly… anyone fancy helping me?

But enough about the walls, “show us the good stuff… the pottery!” you shout (all except Mr Shouty-Outy, who shouted that he would apparently rather see my bottom…). Well here it is. The pottery that is, not my bottom.

All this was found on the surface, and it tells a very interesting story, but there are some genuinely important bits here. First up, we have a sherd of Manganese Glazed pottery.

Early 18th century in date – it stops being made around 1750 – this stuff is fairly commonly found on sites of this date, and probably come from a jug or mug. I explored this stuff here.

Other bits of Manganese Glazed include these 4 rim sherds from cups and mugs.

Clockwise from top left: an open bowl measuring 16cm, a cup of 10cm, another cup of 10cm, and another measuring 12cm. Lovely stuff.

Next up, some slipware.

On the left, a chunky sherd probably from a large jug or similar. On the right we have the rim from a large platter (it has a rim diameter of 30cm); the piecrust edge is hugely characteristic and immediately recognisable (again, I explore it in this article):

The glazed interior didn’t quite make it to the rim, and would have created a striking image: this would have been an impressive vessel when it was whole.

The middle sherd is Staffordshire Slipware, with a Dark on Light decoration. The reddish slip laid over the light background turns much darker when covered in the lead-based glaze. In this case it seems to be giving some form of geometric design – you can see the grooves where the slip was laid, but which has fallen away – the pottery is not particularly hardwearing, and the slip is often found to have delaminated from the body.

Wonderful stuff… you can just make out the linear design in the clay in this awful photo.

This is from the base of the vessel – probably a large platter used for presenting food on the table, and from which all the family would have taken their own share. Turning it over, you can see lots of interesting marks made during the manufacturing process.

When made, the pots are pressed into a mould until they are ‘leather’ hard – that is, hard enough to retain their shape, but not quite fully dry. What we can see on the base are the scars of manufacturing. There are numerous lines scraped into the clay, suggestive of tools used to remove the pot from the mould, or even string. There is also a small ball of clay lodged within the base – this would have been dry and sitting in the mould when the wet clay was placed in it, and when removed it became part of the base. The small holes around it suggest that there were others that didn’t become attached. I love this… it’s almost the secret side of pottery – whilst most people look at the decoration and say “oooh”, let’s instead flip it over and see what else it can tell us.

Next up, we have some Nottingham Stoneware:

I explored this wonderful stuff back in the first instalment of the Rough Guide to Pottery so I won’t discuss it here, but it dates to the 18th century, which is a good date for us. You can see the ‘orange peel’ surface made by using a salt glaze in this sherd:

And on this sherd interior, you can see the horizontal smoothing lines.

I think 2 of the sherds come from jugs or bowls, whilst the base sherd on the left has a diameter of 7cm, so it might have come from a squat round-bellied tankard.

Slightly later than all this is a beautiful sherd of Industrial Slipware:

It’s a lovely fragment of a sugar bowl type thing, with a wide mouth and straight sides. I like how the decoration gently mirrors the environment it was found in – very suggestive of water and sky.

For me, though, the absolute gem of a find was this fragment of a large Cistercian Ware jug.

Dating to the earlier 16th century (1550, perhaps), this is quite special in that it not only pushes back the date of Torside Farm, it is also not something that is commonly encountered. The surface is wonderful in a deep black glaze, and the fabric is textbook purple and hard, with the classic ‘salt and pepper’ inclusions.

The purple colour is on the bottom, the darker grey colour in the fabric is on the inside of the jug, and is caused by the pot being fired in a reduced oxygen environment – essentially, a lack of oxygen during the firing as air couldn’t get into the jug interior properly.

It would have originaly looked something like this:

Image is lovingly stolen from the University of Leicester Archaeological Service’s Facebook page – here

Genuinely, this sherd is, I think, something significant and had me all of a quiver when I found it. I had to have a bracer or two, and thankfully I was soon back to my normal stiff upper lipped-ness.

I also found some clay pipe stems here and there amongst the stones; all fairly standard and Victorian with the remarkable exception of this wonderful fragment.

The longer I look at it, the more it looks like it has two eyes, a nose… is singing to me!

It is chunky, being some 10mm thick, but crucially it is a large bore – the hole through the middle is 4mm – which is unusually large, and twice (or more) the width of a Victorian bore (sigh… yes thankyou Mr Shouty-Outy, calling me an ‘unusually large bore‘ says more about you than it does me). All of this means that the stem is early; early 17th century early… probably the same date as the earliest reference to the farm in 1621. It’s wonderful to imagine Alycia’s father sitting and smoking a nervous pipe in front of the fire, listening to the cries of his newborn daughter upstairs, and who knows… this could be the pipe. I love this, genuinely… it makes it real.

I also found a fragment of stone roof tile with the peg hole intact…

A nice shot, that! This must have come from the house or outbuilding, possibly as part of its demolition or perhaps during the course of its natural life.

Slightly older… glacial erratics – bits of stone that are not part of the local geology, which in out case is Millstone Grit and coarse sandstone:

Another awful photo – I will get a proper camera soon, honestly.

I talked a little about glacial erratics here, but essentially they are bits of stone that have been picked up from all points north of here by glaciers moving south during the last ice age (granite, and large bits of quartzite, for example). The movement of these huge structures made of ice, mud, and stone, actually carved out the Longdendale Valley, and when they began to melt roughly 25,000 years ago, they dropped all this odd material. Glacial sand and clay can be found all over the Glossop area (my own house sits on glacial clay), but it is very prevalent in Longdendale. The types of stone, and indeed origin of these, I haven’t gone into; I am not a geologist, but perhaps I should write an article on them?

In addition to all that, I found a rather nice segment of hand forged, very worn, iron chain.

I have no idea of the age of it, but it’s certainly at least Victorian… and is very cool!

As I say, the first mention we have of the farmhouse at Torside is 1621, but I am fairly confident that the Cistercian Ware jug is earlier, and perhaps by as much as 150 years – which is very interesting and may point to an earlier incarnation of the farm in the area… which makes sense. The past is indeed all around us, and often at our feet… and it is always well worth having a look.

So then, in other news (and also having a look at), the new edition of Where/When has just come from the printers: No.6 – Old Lanes to Old Glossop.

This one is a Wander along the medieval main route between Simmondley and (Old) Glossop, now fossilised into footpaths and odd tracks between buildings. Filled with all manner of archaeological goodness and the usual nerdiness, with a pinch of psychedelia and a heavy hit of psychogeography. Put simply it’s a bloody good walk that goes between The Hare and Hounds and The Wheatsheaf, so what’s not to love?

Contact me here, buy it in the website store, buy it from my Etsy store, the Ko-Fi store, stop me in the street and say “what ho!”, or pop into Dark Peak Books on High Street West, Glossop and grab a copy. It is selling fast… worryingly fast, to be honest!

Right, I think that’s all for the archaeology this month… more soon, obviously. Perhaps more pottery; I’d like to finally wrap up the Rough Guide to Pottery – its unfinished status is frankly bothering my diverse and somewhat spicy mind, and I’d like to be able to wake up not screaming once in a while! Watch this space.

In the meantime, as always – and I do honestly mean it – look after yourselves and each other. This world is not always kind, so let’s – even you Mr Shouty-Outy – try and be kind instead. Until then, I remain, your humble servant.

TCG

Etsy Shop · Where / When

Where/When No.4 (The Melandra Meander) and More

December 5, 2024 Tim Campbell-GreenLeave a comment

What ho, historical types, what ho!

So, the new Where/When ‘zine has just arrived, and just in time for Christmas! How has a year passed since I nervously unpacked Issue No.1, hoping that someone might buy it? I now have t-shirts available… but more about that in a moment. So then, Issue No.4: the lurid green cover was suggested by Master CG, so blame him for the migraines.

This one is subtitled The Melandra Meander, and, as you might have guessed, has a brief furtle around that most neglected of all Roman forts, Melandra. The Wander starts there, and then wends its probably weary way up the hill to The Hague, then up to St Michael and All Angel’s church, Mottram, and then down various trackways to Broadbottom, the viaduct, and on to Gamesleys old and new, and eventually back to the fort.

It does give a brief overview of the fort, but I think that really should be the subject of a Where/When special, as it is a hugely important site. It’s also slightly longer than previous Wanders, but it isn’t particularly difficult… although be warned it is incredibly muddy in places. You have been warned! It contains all the usual website shenanigans – history, a carefully planned wander, archaeology, psychedelically tinged photographs, bad jokes, pottery, a sense of ‘something or other’ and the obligatory snifter of the stuff that cheers… I mean, what’s not to love?

All four of the Where/Whens are now available to buy – I reordered some more of the long out of print No.1, as people have asked for it.

The price is £5 each – a mere snip to have my words droning on and on about old things ready at hand, any time day or night! They are available from the wonderful Dark Peak Books, High Street West, Glossop, or from this website (click here, you won’t regret it). Or simply drop me a line in the contact page, and I’ll get them to you ASAP. Or you could track me down, and make vague threats to me in order to get me to sign it – you won’t be the first (madness, I tell you!).

I’m also in the Glossop Chronicle, which is bizarre to say the least! Check it out here: https://online.flippingbook.com/view/781848889/10/

In other matters… I have set up an Etsy shop! This gives me a platform to sell my wares, which is amazing. At the moment it largely features A4 art prints taken from Where/When, on really good quality paper stock, perfect for framing and brightening up even the darkest of rooms (yes, Mr Shouty-Outy, I’m sure it would look good in your downstairs toilet… as always, I thank you for your input).

But also, crucially, we have some merchandise! If you fancy buying a 100% cotton t-shirt for Christmas, please feel free – I certainly won’t stop you! Now you too can recognise fellow Wanderers without having to resort to those tattoos that some of you have got. And now you too can look somewhat snazzy as you slither down a muddy bank whilst looking for pottery, or indeed simply spiffing as you tumble A over T down a ‘medieval trackway’ cursing me as you go (again, you won’t be the first).

Four slogans are available, and in a variety of colours:

‘What ho, Wanderer’

‘Wandering Where? Wandering When?’

Not Walking… Wandering’

Wander Definition

There’s also hoodies, and mugs! What’s not to love? And, of course, the ‘zine itself. And with much more in the pipeline.

Check the shop out here – DrTCG’s – you won’t regret it, and you’ll be helping me, too!

Righty, shameless self-promotion over with – I’ll have a proper December post ready in time for Christmas (probably involving pottery!). Until then, look after yourselves, and, as always, each other. And I remain, your humble servant,

TCG