Packhorse History in Eskdale and its Surroundings

Esk Dale is truly magnificent, full of contrasts and steeped in history.  It can also boast a unique feature in that, at its head, are the highest mountains in England, the Scafells, and its feet are well and truly in the sea at Ravenglass. – Michael Hartwell in An Illustrated Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of the Lake District (1)

Fell Pony Linnel Doublet looking out over Eskdale from the historic packhorse track between Wasdale and Eskdale over Burnmoor on the author’s 2015 traverse of the track.

The Fell Pony is the native pony of northwest England, including the Lake District.  However, the Fell is often not recognized for its many and diverse roles in the history and landscape of the northern hills.  For instance, in the nomination documents for the Lake District for recognition as a World Heritage Site, the Fell was absent despite its ancestors being the primary mode of transport of goods during the packhorse era and the Fell being a native dweller of the fells like its better-known brethren the Herdwick Sheep.  While packhorse bridges are often recognized as historic and picturesque parts of the region, the many other features that harken back to the packhorse era, including the ponies themselves, are not recognized as such.

From 2016 to 2017, Maggie B. Dickinson wrote a series of thirteen articles for Cumbria magazine about the packhorse history of the area.  Her series built on her many decades of research about packhorse bridges and related features in northern England.  Because of my interest in the working heritage of the Fell Pony, Maggie subsequently gave me permission to build upon her work and document more about how the ancestors of today’s Fell Ponies were used in the commercial and industrial past of the region.  I am grateful to Maggie for sharing her knowledge, her photographs, and her insights with me.

Wordsworth's view of the features of the Lake District as spokes of a wheel radiating from the hub (red dot) at ScaFell.  My progress documenting the packhorse history of the region is hatched in green. 

The poet William Wordsworth, in his Guide Through the District of the Lakes in 1835, encouraged his reader to imagine themselves suspended like a cloud above the Scafells where they would see diverging from their feet numerous valleys “like spokes from the nave of a wheel.” (2) In the illustration at right, the nave or hub of the wheel is shown in red. In hatched green are areas whose packhorse history I have previously explored. For instance, the packhorse history of the spoke that is the Lickle valley is in the southwestern portion of the Lake District (click here if you’d like to read that article). Clockwise from the Lickle is the spoke that is the Duddon valley (click here if you’d like to read that article.) Further north is Burnmoor and its historic route (click here if you’d like to read that article). Counterclockwise from the Lickle is the Furness region which influenced both the Duddon and Lickle valleys (click here if you’d like to read the Furness article). And then further counterclockwise are Morecambe Bay and the sands routes that crossed it (click here if you’d like to read that). Here I will explore the spoke that is the valley of the River Esk, clockwise from the Duddon valley. I will explore Eskdale’s near neighbor, again clockwise, the spoke that is the River Mite, in a future article.

As Hartwell indicates in the opening quote, Eskdale begins under the Scafells and runs to the sea at Ravenglass.  However, some sources say that Eskdale is north of the Esk and Birker & Austhwaite is south of the river.  I will use the more general rather than specific meaning of Eskdale here. 

At one time, Ravenglass was a port town, with a harbor collecting the waters of not only the Esk and the Mite but also the Irt (the next spoke clockwise from the Mite).  Maggie says about Ravenglass’s place in packhorse history, “Ravenglass has enjoyed much activity, especially during the smuggling period.  Apart from the legal import and export of goods, there were hidden dropping off and picking up points used by smugglers in the quietest of places along the coast either side of Ravenglass.  Eventually Whitehaven, a much larger harbour and port to the north, became the main base for shipping and Ravenglass fell into obscurity.”  If you haven’t read Rudyard Kipling’s poem “A Smuggler’s Song,” about pack ponies and illicit cargo, I highly recommend it;  click here to access written, spoken, and sung renditions.

Since the River Esk penetrates deeply into the Lake District, transit through its valley naturally occurred as early as humans were moving about.   Recorded history says that first defense and then trade were the primary reasons for travel through the valley.  Trade began in Neolithic times 4,000 years ago.  Then the Romans built a road through Eskdale for defense purposes in the first century AD and constructed forts at either end of the valley to oversee and protect their interests.  It is likely that they used pack ponies to access areas away from their roads.  Supporting this assertion, Sue Millard notes in her book A Century of Fells that pack saddles were found during excavation of Vindolanda, a Roman Fort east of Carlisle along Hadrian’s Wall. (3)

Subsequently, during the monastic period (roughly 1000 to 1500AD), Furness Abbey had interests in Eskdale and Miterdale and used packhorses to move goods.  And then in the post-monastic period, packhorse trains followed numerous tracks through the valley taking goods for export to the ports at Ravenglass and Whitehaven and bringing imports, legal and otherwise, on the return journey. 

Anyone interested in the history of Eskdale is indebted to Miss Mary C. Fair, an amateur historian and archaeologist who lived in the valley from 1875 to 1955. Miss Fair published numerous papers about Eskdale in the Transactions of the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and Archaeology Society (referred to here as Transactions). More recently, the Eskdale & District Local History Society completed a four-year project revisiting Miss Fair’s work, publishing Walking In The Footsteps of Mary Fair (Footsteps) in 2008. I am grateful to Jamie Quartermaine of Oxford Archaeology North for sharing a copy of Footsteps with me.

While Mary Fair’s work was principally about the Roman period and thereafter in Eskdale, she also made notes about the Neolithic period (4,500-2,350 BCE).  I was fascinated by a description of the Neolithic period in Footsteps.  Specifically, I was intrigued that “Craftsmen were fashioning the volcanic tuffs found on the high central and western fells into stone axe heads, at the time a valuable and tradable commodity.  Axes from this area have been found in large quantities in Ireland and as far afield as the northern coast of France, which suggests that the centre of the Lake District was, in a manner of speaking, a silicon valley of its day.” (4)  This telling indicates that international trade from Eskdale was actively underway up to 2,300 years BCE, which left me wondering if pack ponies were in use earlier than the Roman period.  On Dartmoor, ponies were domesticated around 1500 BCE, with horses domesticated about 500 years earlier.  (5)  Perhaps in time we’ll know more about how long ago ponies were domesticated in northwest England and if they may have helped with trade during the late Neolithic period.

This map locates features in Eskdale and nearby areas in the Lake District of Cumbria with connections to packhorse transport, including mines, Woods, peat, mills, and more. (c) Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The map here shows the valleys of the River Esk and River Mite, with the valleys approximated in pale yellow.  There is a low pass between the two valleys at Eskdale Green, roughly in the center of the map.  The Duddon Valley, our previous topic, sits off to the lower right of this map.  In addition to my gratitude for Maggie B. Dickinson’s assistance, I am grateful to Fell Pony trekker Vyv Wood-Gee for her interest in packhorse-related features and her sharing of photographs that you will see below.

The map indicates the rough locations of features that are related to the historic use of packhorses in Eskdale and its environs.  While ‘packhorses’ is the usual term, history says they were ponies by stature since they were usually less than 14hh; a stout but shorter equine made it easier to lift the loads onto the pack saddles.  While some of the packhorses in use during the peak of the packhorse era were imported - jaggers from Germany for instance - some were also likely locally reared and therefore ancestral to today’s Fell Ponies, the breed that calls the region home today.

Purple elements on the map indicate Roman features, including the road from upper right to lower left.  Black lines are modern roads.  Green lines indicate historic packhorse tracks that may today be footpaths or bridleways.  Often modern roads follow the same routes as historic tracks because those routes were found over time to be the most efficient way to get from point A to point B.  A narrow-gauge railway ascends the Mite valley from Ravenglass to the pass over to Eskdale and terminates at Dalegarth near Boot.  Its track is shown by a double hatched black line.  Another full-scale railway hugs the coastline.  Maggie says, “This is the Cumbrian Coast Line which runs from Carlisle and down through Workington, Whitehaven, and to the southern end of the Furness Peninsula to Barrow and then up through Ulverston, Grange-over-Sands to Carnforth near Lancaster where it connects with the West Coast Main Line” 

Fell Pony Wellbrow Drifter ambles down the old Roman road under Muncaster Fell in Eskdale in September 2021.  Copyright and Courtesy Vyv Wood-Gee

On the map, ‘Grounds’ are shown as green circles. These are current or former farms with historic associations with Furness Abbey during the monastic period. The Lake District National Park World Heritage Site documentation says about ‘Grounds:’ “Following a formal agreement between the Abbot of Furness and squatters in 1509, a series of permanent steadings was established by carving out small, irregular fields from the monastic commons, and building a basic, humble farmstead or ‘Ground’. Each ground is named after the original family….” (6) Maggie considers the monastic era to be the beginning of significant use of packhorses for moving goods, though there is evidence that the Romans used packhorses in rougher remote areas in their era. Places like Grounds, as part of the Abbey’s network, would have been serviced by packhorses.

‘Bridges’ are either known to have packhorse associations or are worthy of further investigation for packhorse associations.  Bridges have the most obvious connections to packhorses and they have been the most researched and identified.  However, some bridges have yet to be given the credit that they deserve and others are on historic packhorse routes and have been rebuilt since the packhorse era.  Maggie and others have found many bridges that are not yet on the most common lists of these important features.  Bridges are considered to be genuine packhorse bridges when they are on a known packhorse route, have low (or even no) parapets to allow panniers to pass over them, are narrow and were built during the packhorse era.  The packhorse era is generally considered to have been prior to about 1750 when the turnpike roads began to be constructed in earnest.  However, in places, road improvements didn’t come until much later, so packhorses continued in use.

‘Woods’ were forests managed historically for making charcoal and other woodland products.  As Maggie points out, some forests were coppiced:  “managed by pruning so that new growth sprouted back quickly from the roots or stumps, thereby creating wood suitable for charcoal and other purposes.”  Charcoal was the fuel source for iron smelting, an early and prominent industrial activity of Eskdale and Miterdale.  Bobbins, an example of other woodland products, were needed by the Lancashire cotton mills and were a common product of the woodlands of the region. Maggie says, “These bobbins were sent to the Lancashire Cotton Mills in the mid-1800s, and at this time the packhorses were still in full swing in such remote areas.”

Mines, quarries, and drifts are shown, though we do not have clear information about the dates of their workings.  Hence we don’t specifically know which ones would have been serviced by packhorses.  An article on the mines of Eskdale by the Cumbria Industrial History Society says, “The iron ore deposits, reddish in colour, outcrop on the surface and must have been used for ‘ruddle’ or pigments since early times. Iron has been smelted in the valley since at least Roman times, as the many small banks of slag testify. Presumably local ore was used.” (7) During their era, packhorses would have been used to move ore from mines to smelting sites.

Pitsteads are remnants of charcoal making platforms in the Woods.  Their locations are from Mary Fair’s publications in Transactions.  Pack ponies were used to transport charcoal from the Woods to the iron smelting sites called bloomeries during their era.

The Woolpack Inn in Eskdale has packhorse era connections. Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

On the map, ‘Inns, halls, castles’ are places of manorial activity, lodging and/or eating/drinking with known or probable packhorse associations. These places were near a known packhorse route. Additionally, they would have had a place for the packmen to sleep, had enclosed grass paddocks for the ponies to graze in overnight, and had space under lock and key for the packs to be stored.

Maggie adds, “In addition to the monastic system, there were other factors we inherited from the French after the Norman Conquest, like the feudal system which brought castles into being, so that with monasteries, priories, abbeys, castles, manor houses and the like, the population grew around these locations, and the need to trade became vital, so that market charters (many of which still exist) were given to towns and villages for the ease of trade, hence the need for pack ponies on routes where wheels could never go.”

‘Mills’ were water-powered so are along water courses and were used for corn as well as for processing wool and cloth (woolen, linen or hemp).  Other mills made wood products.  Prior to good road access, packhorses would have brought raw materials to the mills and taken finished products away to market. 

Bloomeries are shown on the map.  Iron ore was smelted at them, using charcoal for fuel.   Iron ore during the medieval period would have been brought to the bloomeries by packhorses or cart and horse, and charcoal would have made the short trip from the Woods to the bloomeries similarly.

‘P’ marks the locations where peat was cut and stored to be used as fuel or where evidence of its transport has been found.  In a 1984 Transactions paper by Angus Winchester, the author suggests that in Eskdale, peat was often sledged - a horse or pony put to an implement drug on the ground on which the peat was stacked.  However, he also notes use of pack ponies from some peat storage huts where sledge tracks were not found.  “The position of some of these huts near steep slopes with no evidence of well-built tracks perhaps suggests that peat was transported from them without vehicular aid, either in panniers on pack horses, or on human backs.” (8)

Finally, on the map, a church with a packhorse association is indicated, as is Hollins Farm, an overnight stop by drovers and probably packmen.

The descent into Eskdale from Hardknott Pass.  Bob Orrell and his Fell Ponies used this road on their Saddle Tramp in the Lake District.  Courtesy Rob Farrow via geograph.co.uk, Creative Commons license 2.0

At the far right of the map, Hardknott Pass is indicated. This is the first of several important passes into Eskdale from other parts of the Lake District. The Roman Road comes over Hardknott Pass, as shown by the purple line, connecting two of the approximately 25 Roman forts that were built in Cumbria from AD71 to AD383. The Roman roads in Cumbria were remarkably straight in most places. These are in contrast with the later packhorse tracks which tended to follow grades to make it easier on the loaded animals. And while the Roman roads connected the Roman forts, the packhorse tracks tended to connect market towns, quarries, and farms. According to the Roman Roads Research Association, “From the top of the pass the modern and Roman lines coincide but at the end of the hairpin bend that swings to right…, the Roman road diverges and takes a higher line to the fort.” (9)

In 1982, Bob Orrell published his book Saddle Tramp in the Lake District about his travels around the region with two Fell Ponies.  Bob, Thor, and Jewel traversed Hardknott Pass, with Bob expressing his appreciation for the packhorse history, and harrowing present, of the route:

…we plodded up the tortuous pass, overtaken at frequent intervals by startled motorists, surprised to find two pack-pones where they rightly belonged.  If the occupants of those brightly painted metal monsters did but know it, the horse had carried goods and people over Hardknott Pass for hundreds of years and it was the last route to be regularly used by the pack-horse gangs, before wheeled transport finally ousted them from the Lake District forever…. Descending into Eskdale we had to take great care on the smooth tarmac.  The spinning tyres of countless cars had left a coating of rubber on each bend and I had one heart-stopping moment when both ponies skied down a particularly greasy section and slid to a halt on the brink of a long drop into the valley. (10)

In Saddle Tramp, Bob also related an often-told tale about how a packhorseman was assisted by a black stallion on their travels from Kendal over Hardknott Pass on their way to Whitehaven:

The locals tell a grand story about a character who used to travel over Hardknott Pass with a gang of pack-horses, plying between Kendal and Whitehaven.  He rode a pony and, being rather fond of his ale, had a habit of dashing ahead of his pack-horse [gang] to an inn, where he would sit drinking until they had passed, led by an old black stallion who probably knew the way better than anybody.  A few more drinks and he would overtake them again and wait at the next inn.  Apparently he did this all the way to Whitehaven, but whether he managed to ride back to Kendal, or was carried, history does not record. (11)

From above Hardnott Roman Fort looking toward Eskdale. The Fort is midground center-left, and Ravenglass and the Irish Sea are at the distant upper right.  Copyright and courtesy Mountain Coward

  Hardknott Fort is one of the most impressive sites of the Roman Occupation to be found in the whole of Britain.  – Robert Gambles in The Story of the Lakeland Dales (12)

Hardknott Fort is shown as a purple diamond on the map.  While the Fort did not have known packhorse associations, it is nonetheless an important landmark in Eskdale and is accessed by the Roman Road that was later used by many packhorse gangs. 

Footsteps paints a dramatic picture of the setting of Hardknott Fort. “At the head of the valley, perched on the edge of a rim of crags, is Hardknott Fort with its impressive backdrop of England’s highest mountains. One of the best descriptions of the fort was made by Chancellor Ferguson during the first excavation in 1892. He likened it to ‘an enchanted fortress in the air; the work of superhuman powers to the native Britons.’” (13)

Robert Gambles in his book The Story of the Lakeland Dales, expands on his quote above by explaining that the impressive Hardknott Fort was actually not long-lived.  “Hardknott had a fairly short life as an active military station.  It was probably built towards the end of the first century AD and appears to have been destroyed and abandoned towards the end of the second.” (14)

According to Maggie’s research, the Roman route over Wrynose and Hardknott passes was known as Smuggler’s Road and is believed to have been the last of Cumbria’s packhorse roads.  In an article for Cumbria magazine, she told the story of moonshiner Lanty Slee.  “Not content with local trade he would use the cover of darkness to trek over Wrynose and Hardknott passes – two of the hairiest roads in the country – either leading a single packhorse with bulging panniers or among a group of smugglers, [heading] for the old Roman port of Ravenglass.  There he exchanged whisky for foreign goodies such as rum, brandy, tobacco and sugar….  On risky journeys Lanty’s whisky was frequently carried in pigs’ bladders, rather than bottles….  When his dogs gave [an alarm] signal he could split the skin and rid himself of the evidence.  The round trip from Langdale to Ravenglass on foot, of almost thirty miles, was arduous and life-threatening in inclement weather, and poses the question of when Lanty found time to sleep.”  (15)

Brotherilkeld, an historic farm with connections during the monastic era to Furness Abbey and also having more recent Fell Pony associations.  Photo copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson.

At the base of the pass, we find on the map three features: a Ground, a bloomery and a pitstead.  The Ground is referred to as Brotherilkeld (or similar spellings) and was connected to Furness Abbey during the monastic era.  Brotherilkeld has been owned by the National Trust since 1961.  According to the National Trust website, “Like many other places in the Lake District, Norse settlers and farmers left their mark through numerous place names, including Brotherilkeld meaning ‘the booth of Ulfkell’.” (16) Booth is an old English word for a livestock shelter according to Merriam-Webster.

Gambles explains in The Story of the Lakeland Dales: “In 1242 the Abbot negotiated a remarkable transaction whereby in exchange for a coastal property at Monkfoss, near Black Combe, the Abbey acquired 14,000 acres of Upper Eskdale including the already long-established sheep farm or ‘herdwick’ of Brotherilket.  They thus obtained not only a valuable economic asset but also control of the communications routes, via Hardknott, to their other possessions in High Furness and, via Esk Hause, to their farms and granges in Borrowdale.  They also secured access, via Lingcove (where their bridge still stands) and Ore Gap, to the iron furnaces in Langstrath for the smelting of the ore they mined in Eskdale.”  (17)  The bridge that Gambles mentions here is shown at the extreme upper right corner of the map. 

Brotherilkeld has connections to Fell Ponies, not only because Bob Orrell and his ponies Thor and Lucy camped there for two nights on their Saddle Tramp.   In a 2012 article in The Guardian, Tony Greenbank told a story about the Harrison family that currently stewards Brotherilkeld.  “[Eric Harrison’s] family has shepherded Brotherilkeld farm at the head of Eskdale for more than 100 years and he has farmed here for 40 years plus with his brother Geoff….  When he was eight, Eric accompanied farmer Tom Crozier and a horse called Zebe that worked on the farm to Harter's summit [Harter Fell is the tallest peak to the south of Brotherilkeld, between there and the Duddon Valley].  Eric had hoped – as boys will – to hitch a ride on the sturdy fell pony, but Zebe (which always wore a chain so it could be readily caught when it trod on the links) was carrying a bag of cement needed to make a platform for the Ordnance Survey trig point on top. Eric was forlorn to find that neither could he ride down. The steep angle tipped him headlong over the horse's head, down towards the leafy belt of trees by the river Esk.…”  (18)

Lingcove Bridge over a headwaters tributary of the River Esk.  Photo courtesy and copyright Maureen Fleming

Not far from Brotherilkeld on the map is a marker for a bloomery and pitstead. These features are mentioned in Mary Fair’s 1921 Transactions paper called ‘Bloomery Sites in Eskdale and Wasdale (Part 1)’: “To the right of the road ascending [Hardknott] pass about 50 yards over the bridge are remains of a hearth or kiln, the bottom of which is covered with burnt matter…I have not been able to find a slag-heap, but through the gate above, at the right beside the ancient track leading from a ford, is a heap of iron ore. There are charcoal pitsteads in the wood at the opposite side of the road from the hearth.” (19) During their era, pack ponies would have moved charcoal from the pitstead to the bloomery and ore from mines to the bloomery.

Above Brotherilkeld over a tributary of the River Esk sits Lingcove Bridge, also called Throstlegarth or Roman Bridge.  It physically has the characteristics of a packhorse bridge in terms of width and low or no parapets.  However there is disagreement about it being on a known packhorse route.  Hinchliffe, widely considered one of the best authorities on packhorse bridges, wrote in his book A Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of England, “It is said to be on a route leading from Brotherilkeld via Ore Gap into the Langstrath valley where there was a smelting furnace or bloomery; a route used by iron miners.  This is difficult to confirm from present evidence because the path between Brotherilkeld and Ore Gap is on the same side (east) of Lingcove Beck throughout.” (20).  Gambles says in the quote above that the bridge has monastic connections, which would confirm its connection to packhorses since Furness Abbey made significant use of pack ponies.  Hartwell in his book on packhorse bridges also indicates monastic connections, “There has probably been a crossing at Throstle Garth for hundreds of years….  The monks from Furness Abbey had a monastic sheep pasture around Throstle Garth Bridge where the remains of the sheep folds are still in evidence.” (21) 

Also above Brotherilkeld are locations of peat moss.  In Winchester’s 1984 Transactions paper called ‘Peat Storage Huts in Eskdale,’ he wrote, “A survey of these peat storage huts in Eskdale was undertaken in August 1982, with the help of a small group of American volunteers, recruited by the Earthwatch organization of Belmont, Massachusetts, as part of a project organized by the Brathay Centre for Exploration and Field Studies…. What is unusual about the Eskdale huts is their location out on the fellside: most other Lakeland ‘peat houses’ were situated among the other buildings of the farmstead….  All that can be said with certainty about the origins of the peat scales is that some, at least, were in existence by the late 16th century.”  (22)  Pack ponies would have been one form of transport available at the origins of these peat scales.

During the survey of Eskdale peat scales, thirty-five huts were located, and two types were identified.  Type A huts were more primitive and likely went out of use in the mid-1800s.  Type B huts had slate roofs on their stone walls, as compared to bracken on the Type As, and the Type Bs “were nearly all associated with well-made sledge tracks and several had stone-built ramps leading to their upper doorways and levelled areas in front of their lower entrances….  The absence of the [Type B] storage hut from the upper reaches of the valley may indicate that the smaller deposits of peat in that area had ceased to be worked (or had been worked out) by the date of the change of building style.” (23)  On the map, the three indicators marking Peat are from this survey, with two of the three being Type A huts and the third, the farthest north, being a hut of unclassified type.  Pack ponies were known to carry bracken, so it’s possible that the construction of the Type A huts may have involved them.

Wha House Bridge over the River Esk.  While not considered a packhorse bridge, its location suggests that a bridge likely existed in this location during the packhorse era.  Photo by Mick Knapton and used via Creative Commons License 3.0

Traveling down the river and the Roman Road we come to a bridge over the River Esk. Wha House Bridge is not considered a packhorse bridge. However, its location both topographically and on the Roman Road suggest a bridge in this location likely existed during the packhorse era and would have been used by packhorses. With a known packhorse route on the south side of the river and the Roman Road providing good transit on the north side of the river, and with packhorse-related features on both sides of the river, it seems likely that a bridge at the Wha House location would have been an important feature, just as it is now for modern vehicular traffic.

There are three mines, quarries or drifts shown north and south of Wha House Bridge.  These features were located via a map called ‘Detailed Old Victorian Ordnance Survey Map 1888-1913.’  This map, which I will refer to as Detailed Old Map, has been a valuable resource for investigating routes, tracks, and bridges as well as the location of peat moss, quarries, mines and drifts.  (24)

Doctor Bridge across the River Esk is an important link between numerous historic packhorse routes.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

A green line on the south side of the river heading west from Wha House Bridge is an historic packhorse track according to Bob Orrell in Saddle Tramp: “…having spent much of the morning talking to the Harrisons [at Brotherilkeld], the day was well advanced when I rode Thor down to Wha House bridge and a gate leading into a tree-lined meadow. The old pack-horse track crossed the meadow to a wood and on through bracken, so tall at times the ponies were out of sight under it. Crossing the boulder-strewn beck, the track improved, following a well-worn route through pasture land and numerous gates, to Penny Hill Farm. In the days when packhorses and droves of cattle passed by from Ravenglass, the farm was an inn called Pyet’s Nest.”(25) On the map, Pyet’s Nest is indicated. Maggie suspects Pyet is a surname.

Continuing on from Penny Hill Farm, still on the south side of the river, we come to a bridge across the Esk.  Today the bridge is called Doctor Bridge, and there is a popular tale from 1734 about a local surgeon living at Penny Hill.  It is said he wanted the original packhorse bridge at this location widened to accommodate his pony and trap.  However, Gambles and colleagues published an article in the Friends of the Lake District’s newsletter Conserving Lakeland that tells an alternate interpretation of the bridge’s widening. 

According to the article, documents uncovered at Penny Hill Farm say the bridge was widened circa 1817.  In addition, the bridge wasn’t called Doctor Bridge until 1860 or so on an Ordnance Survey map.  “So the link between the ‘doctor’ and the ‘bridge’ is by no means proven,” say the article’s authors.  Nonetheless it is clear from its location that it was an important feature during the packhorse era.  Hartwell says in his book on packhorse bridges, “…although today it provides access to only two or three farms, it was (in the 1700s) on an extremely busy route.  In fact, it was on the main thoroughfare between Esk Dale and the Duddon Valley.” (26)  There is a picture of this ‘main thoroughfare’ below.

The indications of peat on the map south of Doctor Bridge and Penny Hill were identified by Winchester in his 1984 Transactions paper.  Three in the more eastern location were Type A, or older, and the more westerly one was a Type B or newer and more elaborate.  Winchester asks an interesting question in his paper after reviewing a relevant lawsuit: “an attempt must be made to consider why the inhabitants of Eskdale went to the expense of building such structures, while many other Lake District communities seem to have succeeded in obtaining their peat without storage huts on the commons.  The reason given in the 1795 lawsuit papers… was that ‘it is often difficult to win their peats in summer’. Presumably, the phrase ‘to win’ is used here to cover the whole process of obtaining peats, from cutting them to bringing them to the farmstead. Inability to complete the process in the summer could arise from two factors: either the climate on the exposed, high level peat mosses might have been too wet to allow the peats to dry sufficiently, or perhaps, aggravated by the slowness of drying, the farming calendar of the summer months (hay-making, sheep clipping, harvest) might not have allowed sufficient time to carry the peats down….  It may be argued that precipitation in Eskdale is not appreciably higher than elsewhere in the Lake District and that climate alone cannot explain the need for peat scales in the valley. The relatively high altitude of the peat deposits would account for some difference in climate between the Eskdale peat mosses and those of some other valleys, but the decisive factor may perhaps have been the extremely steep fellsides of Eskdale which separated the farmsteads from their peat supplies. It might well have been considered preferable to carry completely dry peat down these at intervals during the winter than to carry the extra weight of water in crumbling, semi-dried peats in the summer.” (27)  Certainly if pack ponies were used to carry the peat, having the peats be drier and lighter would allow a larger load to be more safely carried down the steep tracks.

On the map, the mine noted south of Penny Hill is an old copper mine.  Its location is documented in the 1923 list of Ancient Monuments in Birker and Austhwaite.  (28)  No indication of the dates of its working were given, so it’s unknown whether it would have been serviced by pack ponies.

Woods are indicated on the map along the river downstream from Doctor Bridge.  The Detailed Old Map names the first pair Oak How and Crag Coppice and the downstream pair Ash How and Great Coppice.  Mary Fair refers to them as Birker Wood, and she found numerous pitsteads there.  According to Maggie, ‘how’ is Norse for hillock. 

A bloomery is indicated on the map between the two pairs of Woods.  Mary Fair calls the bloomery Low Birker and she also locates pitsteads in a Wood nearby.  “[The bloomery] is situated on the ancient road on the south side of the Esk….   In the field at the other side of the wall there are heaps of oxide mixed with metallic ore on the banks of the stream, and red oxide and slag are scattered here and there in the earth of the field lately turned up by the plough….  There are numerous charcoal pitsteads in Birker Wood.” (29)  Charcoal would have been moved from the pitsteads to the bloomery by packhorse during their era.  Ore may also have been moved to the bloomery the same way in that era.

Sign marking the site of the historic Woolpack Inn.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Across the river from Doctor Bridge and Penny Hill Farm, two features lie on the Roman (and modern) road. The first is a bridge across a tributary of the Esk, and the second is an inn. The bridge crosses Blea Beck and is called, suitably, Blea Beck Bridge on the Detailed Old Map. Like Wha House Bridge, it is not considered a packhorse bridge but a bridge at this site likely existed during the packhorse era when a route likely followed the Roman Road.

Herdwick sheep and spectators at Eskdale Show in 2015 with the dramatic fell backdrop.  Courtesy Eddie McDonough

The inn, on the other hand, has known packhorse associations and is pictured above. The Wool Pack Inn, according to Mary Fair, was originally called the Dawson Place. (30) And the Old Cumbria Gazetteer website calls the location Dawson Ground, hinting at a possible historic connection to Furness Abbey. (31)

A visitors’ guide website says, “The isolated Woolpack Inn and the nearby Youth Hostel are well frequented by hill-lovers for most of the year, but on the last Saturday in September the narrow road is thronged for the Eskdale Show.” (32) 

The Eskdale Show history page once included this tidbit about the Woolpack and the iconic Lake District sheep breed the Herdwick: “In some of the early years, over 500 [Herdwick] tups came to Eskdale Show, the majority of which would be walked there, taking several days to reach the Woolpack. For example, Keswick sheep would be walked up Borrowdale then over Styhead Pass into Wasdale, then over Burnmoor Tarn track into Boot and on to the Woolpack. In 1867 there were entries from as far away as Threlkeld, Buttermere, Windermere, Coniston and Cockermouth. It would have been a tremendous sight seeing all the Herdwicks converging into the Show field.” (33)

Hollins Farm in the 1970s.  The name 'hollins' indicates it was used by drovers when moving cattle and may have been used by packmen in their era.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Down the Roman Road from the Woolpack Inn and slightly north is Hollins Farm. The name ‘Hollins’ indicates the farm was once used by drovers for overnight stops. Maggie says it was possibly also used by packmen. On the Detailed Old Map, numerous tracks are shown to the farm, including coming down Whillan Beck connecting to the historic track from Burnmoor.

Along that track, a mill is shown called Gill Bank.  On the Detailed Old Map, it is labeled a sawmill.  The Cumbria Industrial History Society says it was a carding mill in 1810. (34)  Carding mills prepared wool for spinning by brushing the fibers to evenly align them.  The PastPresented website includes a collection of deeds for Gill Bank Farm beginning in 1696, with a miller in residence as early as 1754, as well as a weaver.  Starting in 1813, the noted poet William Wordsworth owned Gill Bank Cottage for a time.  ‘Peathouses’ are also mentioned in 1813. (35)   On the Old Detailed Map, a bridge is shown crossing Whelan Beck between the farm and the mill.  It is possible that pack ponies would have serviced this mill and the peat houses prior to improved access.

Continuing down the Roman Road from Hollins Farm is the village of Boot.  According to Hartwell in his book on packhorse bridges, “The name ‘Boot’ is derived from the Viking for ‘dwelling place.’” (36) 

Postcard of Gill Bank(s) Mill, north of Boot, circa 1920. Courtesy Maggie B Dickinson

The History page of the Eskdale website elaborates on the Viking/Norse period of the region’s past. “The most influential settlers, though, were the Norsemen in the 9th and 10th centuries. These were not the loot-and-pillage Vikings who swept the east coast but farmers who recognised the landscape from their homeland….Many of the thick walls at Boot and Brotherilkeld are a result of their [Viking] land clearance. Their language is also still very much alive in many of Eskdale's names, like Blea Tarn, Scafell, Birkerthwaite, Scale Gill and Dalegarth.” (37) Thwaite, for instance, means clearing in the forest.

Boot Bridge in 2015 with two Fell pack ponies and the author, right, and Christine Robinson, left.

Between the Woolpack Inn and the village of Boot, there are numerous quarries, mines, or drifts indicated on the fellside north of the river.Gambles, in The Story of the Lakeland Dales, says, “Eskdale’s iron ore was mined for close on 2,000 years from Roman times until the last venture ended in 1913. The haematite outcrops may best be seen on the fellsides near Boot.” (38) Those more recent mineral mining ventures as well as an interest in the local granite inspired the building of the narrow-gauge railway that dominates the experience of many Eskdale visitors today and which also of course put natural horsepower out of business.

My introduction to Boot was quite different from that of most modern visitors.  It was via, not surprisingly, a packhorse bridge.  Boot Bridge (also called Mill, Eskdale or confusingly Bleabeck) crosses Whillan Beck, a tributary of the Esk.  The bridge gives access from Boot to an historic corn mill.  It is also on an important packhorse route to Burnmoor and thence Wasdale.  The route over Burnmoor to Wasdale was also a corpse road; click here to read more.

Eskdale Mill in Boot on the left with Boot village ahead over the packhorse bridge and used millstone in right foreground.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Bob Orrell points out in his book Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast that, “Eskdale is one of the few valleys in Cumberland that does not have a lake you can sit by, but in the hamlet of Boot close by the station, there is Eskdale Mill, that has a recorded history going back to 1294 and is claimed to be one of the oldest water-powered corn mills in England.”(39)

The mill’s website is very informative.  For instance, it says that “The earliest millstones would have been made from English millstone grit brought here from the Pennines.  Cologne stones from the Rhineland were probably installed during the middle of the 1700s to grind imported wheat.” (40)  The Pennines lie to the east of the Lake District.  Since those earliest millstones were installed prior to the mid-1700s, it begs the question of if and how natural horsepower would have been used to move them from the Pennines to Boot.  Perhaps over Hardknott Pass?  Or by boat to Ravenglass and then up the Roman Road somehow?  So far, Maggie has been unable to discover how the millstones were transported.

The mill website then goes on to say, “People began to combine water-powered corn mills with corn-drying kilns during the 18th and 19th centuries. These kilns were needed to dry out the damp grains, particularly oats, in the colder and wetter areas of Britain, including the Lake District. They could then be ground effectively by the millstones. At Eskdale Mill a permanent, purpose-built kiln was added between 1795 and 1819, using locally-cut peat for fuel. Since at least the 1500s Eskdale people had enjoyed the right to cut turves of peat from the common land. Peat was cut from the moorland above the mill.”  (41)

The mill website also says, “Farmers usually delivered their grain to the mill themselves, but the miller would return the ground flour using his own horse and cart.”  (42)  Maggie points out in her Cumbria article about mills that this mill is a ‘bank’ mill, taking advantage of the sloped terrain.  “The pack teams climbed to the higher ground at the rear of the split-level structure to access the drying kiln, where their panniers could be directly unloaded to avoid hoisting.  Oatmeal and barley were the most popular local grains for milling because wheat was a luxury and tended to be grown on the coastal plain.” (43)  The transport of peat to the kiln of course might also have been accomplished by pack pony.

Historic pack saddle at Eskdale Mill in Boot. Courtesy Kate Hughes, Eskdale Mill manager

Of particular interest to us at the mill today is an historic packhorse saddle.  Hinchliffe says in his 1994 book about packhorse bridges regarding the pack saddle display at that time: “The small exhibition inside the mill displays a padded wooden packsaddle on which were loaded two sacks of corn.  The display also notes that there was once a regular weekly gang of 20 packhorses en-route through Boot from the west to cross Hard Knott and Wrynose on the way to Ambleside.  From Boot they would probably cross the other Eskdale packhorse bridge - Doctor’s Bridge.” (44)

Fell Pony Hynholme Amber looks toward a peat storage hut along the track from Boot to Burnmoor in 2015.  From this perspective it appears to be a Type B or more modern peat scale.

On the map, along the historic track from Boot north to Burnmoor and Wasdale, peat activity is indicated, as suggested by the mill website. In Winchester’s 1984 paper on peat storage huts in Eskdale, he wrote, “The largest concentration [of peat scales] is the cluster of nine huts on Boot Bank at the head of the track from Boot to the peat mosses on Longrigg.”(45) The photo here shows a hut near Longrigg. I didn’t know at the time that I took the photo that the structure had packhorse associations, or I would have gone to investigate! From this photo it appears that this is what Winchester in his Transactions paper describes as a Type B or more modern peat scale, built to take advantage of the slope so that horse or pony drawn sledges could be pulled to the top to unload fresh peat and to the bottom to load dried peat for transport to Boot village below.

The historic packhorse track from Wasdale and Burnmoor continues through Boot to the south.  First the track passes a Wood, called Hows Wood on the Detailed Old Map.  The track then stops at the only church shown on the map.  The reason St. Catherine’s Church is shown on the map is that the historic route from Wasdale was not only used for movement of goods and livestock but also as a corpse road.  Bob Orrell in Saddle Tramp explains, “In the days before Wasdale Head had its own consecrated ground, those unfortunate enough to expire in this remote corner of Cumberland were denied their final rest until the mortal remains had been carried, on horseback [over Burnmoor], for burial to St. Catherine’s in Eskdale.” (46)  To read more about this corpse road including the numerous ghost stories associated with it, click here.

Across the river from St. Catherine’s, numerous features are shown on the map.  The mines that are indicated are from the Detailed Old Map which shows numerous old drifts.  Mary Fair confirms these features.  The Detailed Old Map also shows Force Wood along the tributary of the Esk that is called Birker or Stanleygill Beck. 

The location of the bloomery is from Mary Fair’s work.  She called it Underbank Wood, indicating another Wood was in the area.  “This is across the river from the old church, a little to the east…  During the time in the 19th century when iron ore was mined at Boot, operations were also carried on here. A bridge was built across the Esk carrying a waggon-way to an adit in the fell side, now fallen in. There are other numerous shafts sunk in the fell side. The waggon-way joined the railway (crossing the high road and the Whellan Beck), between Boot and Beckfoot.” (47)  If operations were carried on here before the 19th century, then this bloomery may have been serviced by packhorses for ore and for charcoal.  And of course it’s possible that the wagons were sometimes pulled by ancestors of today’s Fell Ponies, if not by horses.

Ellerbeck Bridge. Courtesy Mountain Coward

Going up Birker Beck past Force Wood, there are two Grounds and two bridges. The Grounds are called Low and High. Being Grounds, they have an historic connection to Furness Abbey which was a major user of packhorses and builder of packhorse bridges. The two bridges in the area are called Whincop and Ellerbeck, and for numerous reasons they are worthy of further investigation as packhorse bridges. Their proximity to the Grounds, their proximity to a major route to the Duddon Valley, and because of their appearance all suggest that they could be genuine packhorse bridges.

Whincop Bridge. Courtesy Mountain Coward

Downstream on the south side of the Esk from Birker Beck we see a cluster of features: an Inn, a bloomery, a pitstead, a bridge, and a Wood. The Detailed Old Map locates Newhall Coppice and Low Wood here. The ‘Inn, Hall, or castle’ is Dalegarth Hall, the subject of a 1928 Transactions paper by Mary Fair. The paper’s introduction explains how far back the place has been inhabited.“ The ancient habitation on the south bank of the Esk known today as Dalegarth Hall is of interest on account of its long association with a branch of the distinguished family of Stanley [who farmed in the valley for over 500 years…].It is a matter of general knowledge that the original name of the estate was Austhwaite, the occupants taking their name from it, the manor being granted by one of the Boyvilles in 1102 to the family styling itself de Austhwaite who remained in possession till about 1345 when the line became extinct in male succession, the heiress, Constance daughter of Thomas, the last de Austhwaite, marrying Nicholas Stanley of Greysouthen. We first hear of Dalegarth in 1437, when Thomas Stanley, great-grandson of the above Nicholas, is recorded as being of Dalegarth when he married Anne Hudleston.” (48) It is clear from this long history that packhorses would have serviced Dalegarth Hall for some time.

In her 1921 Transactions article on bloomery sites in Eskdale, Mary Fair describes the nearby bloomeries and pitstead.  “There are two (if not more) bloomery sites here….  [No. 1] is situated about 100 yards through the wood east of the gate by Turn Dub. There is a small heap of slag on the old road, another to the right in the wood, and over a wall to the left, more heaps of heavy slag on the bank of a small runner. No trace of hearth. There are heaps of charcoal in the vicinity, and pitsteads in the wood….  No. 2 is in the wood beside the road immediately behind Dalegarth Hall. This appears to have been a more extensive working than the other, judging from the slag-heaps. There are also the remains of a hearth which is about 20 feet in external diameter at the top. There is a well-defined channel or conduit leading from the bottom to a trough made of rough masonry. Adjoining are small heaps of charcoal and patches of oxide puddle.”  (49)

She continues, “I have been told by a dalesman that his grandfather could remember the smelting of iron in the woods in the old rude way, so that many of these small sites may be comparatively modern. Iron ore abounds in the fells all round Eskdale, and no doubt has been worked from early times. Every wood contains numbers of charcoal pitsteads, and the number of the bloomery sites suggests that the iron required for the dwellers in the dale was smelted locally….” (50)  She concludes that many of the smaller bloomeries were of 17th, 18th, or early 19th century origin with two others being possibly Roman.  It’s likely then that packhorses brought ore and charcoal to them at least in the earliest years.

South of Dalegarth Hall, peat is indicated.  In Winchester’s 1984 Transactions paper on peat storage huts, he indicates that the storage hut in this location was owned by Dalegarth Hall and was a Type B or more modern hut.  The Detailed Old Map shows Tonguesdale Moss in this vicinity.  Winchester says, “The change to a more substantial type of hut may have been associated with the construction of durable, graded sledge tracks up to the peat mosses, and it may also have been related to a concentration of peat-digging in the extensive mosses between Blea Tarn and Burnmoor on the north and around Low Birker Pool and Tonguesdale Moss in the south.” (51)  Peat at Low Birker Pool is indicated just east of Whincop and Ellerbeck Bridges.   Winchester noted on his map in his paper that there is evidence of former peat cutting at both Low Birker Pool and Tonguesdale Moss.  It seems likely that early peat cutting could have been assisted by pack ponies, and then later sledges were horse (or pony) powered.

The historic track, now motor road, between Eskdale Green in Eskdale and Ulpha in the Duddon Valley. 
Courtesy Eddie McDonough

The bridge in the vicinity of Dalegarth Hall is called Trough House Bridge.  Maggie says that Dr. Sam Forrester, a respected historian of the Lake District, mentions in his papers at Armitt Museum that Trough House Bridge is a widened packhorse bridge.  Certainly its location alone suggests that would be the case since it crosses the River Esk and connects Boot to the heavily used route to the Duddon Valley. 

Across the river from Dalegarth to the north are two bloomeries.  In her article on bloomeries in Transactions, Mary Fair names them Stanley Ghyll Guest House and Vicarage Glebe.  Regarding the first, “Two slag-heaps in the garden here, near to the river Esk. Owing to disturbance of ground due to making the garden, the scope of the work cannot be traced. Before the building of this place, the ground was open common.” (52)  According to the Guest House’s web page, the house was built in 1894 by the then-owner of the Woolpack Inn. (53)

Regarding the Vicarage Glebe bloomery, Mary Fair says, “Many years ago I noted a small heap of heavy slag under the bushes on a steep bank beside the river Esk, about 50 yards below the Dalegarth [Trough House] Bridge. It is now quite overgrown, and not to be located. No hearth found. A little lower down the river it is probable that there was a ford giving communication between Dalegarth Hall and Beckfoot (now the vicarage).” (54)   Depending on when these bloomeries were in use, they may have been serviced by pack ponies hauling ore and charcoal.

Near Trough House Bridge, we see a second bridge indicated on the map.  Beckfoot Bridge crosses Whellan Beck near its confluence with the Esk, along the ancient route of the Roman Road that is now a modern road.    While today’s bridge is not a packhorse bridge, it seems entirely reasonable to assume that there was a bridge in this vicinity during the packhorse era to facilitate movement of goods along the north side of the river. 

Map showing the historic tracks down from peat beds such as Sineytarn Moss to peat scales (P) for storage and then to the farms where peat was used for heating.  Note the switchbacks in places, indicating steeper sections of the tracks. According to Winchester, the peat scales shown were owned by Vicarage, Spout House, Fisherground, and Hollinghow. (55) (c) Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

At Beckfoot Bridge near the confluence of Whellan Beck and the Esk, an historic packhorse track is shown heading up to Blea Tarn. In Winchester’s paper in Transactions about peat storage huts, the historic track is shown on his map with two peat scales along it, one of each type. He suggests that the newer one likely replaced the older. The track is full of switchbacks, making it easy to imagine how useful pack ponies would be to bring the turves down from the peat scales to the farm below before the track was improved into a sledway.

Gambles in his book The Story of the Lakeland Dales paints a vivid portrait of the role these peat scales played: “…there is a wealth of interest in the variety of the landscape and in the history of the generations of men and women who have lived, worked and died there.  No reminder of these people could be more poignant than the ruins of the many tiny stone huts scattered on the moors between Blea Tarn and Burnmoor.  Some are built like miniature bank barns, others are plain, low structures with simple gables; all are of the local Eskdale granite and when new, must have made a welcome splash of colour on these drab uplands.  They have been identified as peat storage huts, or peat scales, where local folk left their cut peat to dry, later to be taken down along sledways, some of which can still be traced.  The depletion of the woodlands had by the mid-19th century made it necessary for them to seek out the deep peat deposits on the moors as an alternative source of fuel for cooking and to heat their cottages.  It is easy to forget in an age of electricity and central-heated comfort that such basic necessities of life had to be won by so much constant effort and hard labour.” (56)

The peat indicated on the map above Blea Tarn is shown on the Detailed Old Map as Mitredalehead Moss with White Moss above it.  To the west the peat indicated is Sineytarn Moss with its own historic track down to the farm at Spout House with two peat scales en route.  Further to the west, a pair of peat storage huts are indicated along an historic track to Fisherground, which Winchester says owned one of the huts.  While now a campground, Fisherground’s name implies an historic connection to Furness Abbey and thus to pack horses. 

Vyv Wood Gee captions this photo from her 2021 ride in Eskdale:  “Murthwaite Posh questioning the date and origin of the bridge over the River Esk east of Muncaster Head.”  Forge Bridge is definitely more modern than the packhorse era but is in a location where a bridge during that era may have existed.  Photo copyright and courtesy Vyv Wood-Gee

In the same vicinity, the Detailed Old Map shows numerous pits, drifts, and quarries. A history of Eskdale mining says about this area that “The workings [of a nineteenth century mine] overlie an extensive earlier landscape consisting of a complex of settlement and agricultural field-system remains, as well as peat huts and sledways ascending from the valley floor at Fisherground.” (57) This earlier worked landscape was likely serviced by packhorses during their era.

South of the river from Fisherground, the historic track snugs the river from Dalegarth Hall through Milkingstead Wood to Forge Wood and Forge Bridge.  The names would certainly make one think that metalworks had been undertaken here, and a bloomery and pitstead are shown on the map.  Mary Fair says in her Transactions article on bloomeries:  “There is a bloomery site in a small paddock adjoining the farm now called the Forge Farm. The old name of this farm is Howe Howe or Howe Powe. It has only been known as the Forge Farm comparatively recently. The ground has been ploughed though now pasture, but the tenant (Mr. William Southward) informs me that a quantity of slag and cinders is scattered about over the field under the grass. I saw plenty of heavy slag and clinker in the dyke bank dividing the field from the wood, and also on the banks of a runner at the foot of the wood. No traces of hearth. There are numerous charcoal pit-steads in this wood, and Mr. Southward tells me that he remembers charcoal being burned there.” (58)  It is unclear whether the activities described here were during the packhorse era and whether there may have been earlier activity. 

Eskdale Green and its convergence of many packhorse tracks.  Noted features are mentioned in the text.  (c) Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The village of Eskdale Green sits northwest of Forge Bridge on a slight rise between the Rivers Esk and Mite. Mary Fair wrote extensively about Eskdale Green’s many ties to the packhorse era in her 1921 paper in Transactions called “A Relic of Pack-Horse Days in Eskdale.” Eskdale Green was important because it was a converging point of numerous historic packhorse tracks.

Above is a map showing the many tracks converging on and leaving Eskdale Green, including locations of key features from Mary Fair’s article.  The two rivers are in light blue, with the Esk lower right and the Mite extreme upper left.  The route along the Roman Road to Hardknott Pass and thence Ambleside is on the right in purple, and at lower right is the route along the south side of the river that eventually leads to the Duddon Valley and then Broughton-in-Furness.  There are three routes to Ravenglass shown, one on the north side of Muncaster Fell which begins mid left and the other two on the south side of Muncaster Fell, one on each side of the Esk.  The route on the north of the river on the southside of Muncaster Fell begins lower left.  The route on the south side of the river is shown lower right.  There is a road connecting Eskdale Green to Muncaster Head and the Roman Road across the east side of Muncaster Fell.  And there are three routes leading out of Eskdale Green to the upper left and top toward Whitehaven. 

Mary Fair identifies a blacksmith at Randlehow (center of map) and another blacksmith below the King George Hotel, shown as King of Prussia Public House on the Detailed Old Map and here, center right.  And she identifies a third blacksmith from the name Smithybrow Lane at the top of the map.  Maggie says, “There must have been many forges in the days of horses, especially with the traffic that the area had from packmen and drovers.” 

Mary Fair also describes a second inn besides the King George:  “Near Eskdale Green railway station there was a tavern on the pack-horse route, now marked by a barn. The sign of this tavern hung in a tree. Probably it, like John Nicholson's smithy above it, did an excellent trade when the commerce of the country-side was carried on by the trains of packhorses.” (59)  Mary Fair doesn’t draw attention to nearby Whinnyhow Wood, but it certainly has a connection to equines in its name! 

Fell Pony Wellbrow Drifter traverses an historic packhorse track, now a bridleway, from Eskdale Green along the southern end of Bankend Wood. Courtesy Vyv Wood-Gee

Two bloomery sites are shown on the map in the vicinity of Eskdale Green. Mary Fair identified these in her Transactions paper on bloomeries in Eskdale. During the packhorse era, charcoal and ore would likely have been brought in with packhorse assistance. The peat south of Eskdale Green is shown on the Detailed Old Map as Forest Moss, which Mary Fair tangentially mentioned in her packhorses Transactions paper: “Beyond the [Randlehow] smithy another road came across the bog [emphasis added] from an ancient track passing across towards Whitehaven from Muncaster Head direction. There is still a right of way across this soft ground.” (60) This track is noted on the map with a red arrow captioned “Muncaster Head and Roman Road.”

The historic track leading south out of Eskdale Green over Forest Moss passes a bloomery and Bankend Wood.  Footsteps says, “Near to Bank End is the site of an old ‘bloomery’ – an iron ore smelting hearth – which would produce sufficient iron for local needs….”  (61)  Mary Fair in her Transactions paper on bloomeries locates this bloomery at Forest Howe, and in another Transactions paper she locates it at Rabbit How, all in the same vicinity (62).  In her bloomeries paper, she wonders whether it could be Roman in origin.  She asked the same question about Muncaster Head (described below), but subsequent excavation pinned that site to the 17th century and after. (63)  It is likely, nonetheless, that packhorses would have been used to service this bloomery, hauling charcoal and ore, during their era.

Footsteps gives an interpretive account of an historic tenant of the local farm:  “Here in Eskdale [in 1493] Will Tyson looked at his scanty crop of oats and pulled a heavy peat sled down Rabbit How for his winter store.  His son, also Will, was up on the fellside cutting coppice for the forge’s charcoal.  In the longhouse his wife was spinning the coarse grey wool while a skillet of hare simmered and hams smoked above the fire.  The bracken thatch was letting the rain in and the hogg runts [lambs] were churning up the beds of ling [heather] on the damp dirt floor.” (64)  This account suggests that peat was brought in using human rather than pony power.  The telling could be artistic license or true for this location and family.  A drawing illustrating the story included a man mounted on a pony, suggesting that equine power was in use in some way and perhaps, as is so often the case, the equine power in use was invisible to historians.

The historic track from Eskdale past Bankend Wood continues south toward Muncaster Head.  Vyv Wood-Gee and her partner rode this historic track on their Fell Ponies in 2021, and I am grateful for the photos she shared from the trip.  Today Muncaster Head is a farm, but in the past it was home to one of the largest bloomeries in Eskdale, dating from at least the seventeenth century.  A 1970 Transactions paper by Tylecote and Cherry says that large quantities of ore came from Egremont to the northwest, but there is also evidence of Eskdale ore on the site.  (65)  The local ore may have been transported by packhorse during their era. 

Regarding charcoal to power the bloomery, Tylecote and Cherry say, “There was no sign of charcoal-burning on the site and there is therefore no doubt that the charcoal was made in the woods and brought to the site by pack animal.” (66)  Footsteps says, “As early as 1639, 1000 trees were felled in Eskdale, Miterdale and Wasdalehead for charcoal for the Muncaster Head forge, to the considerable distress of the Earl’s tenants.” (67)  The distress was due to the wood not being available for their use for fuel, which pushed them to begin using peat in earnest.

South of Muncaster Head and its features are the features where Linbeck Gill joins the River Esk.  Linbeck Gill is fed by Devoke Water.  In this area we see on the map a bloomery, bridge, mill, and Woods.  The Woods are shown on the Detailed Old Map as High and Low Coppice.  Linbeck Bridge crosses Linbeck, carrying the riverside route on the south side of the river which was historic as well as modern.  Linbeck Bridge today is not considered a packhorse bridge, but because of its location along an historic route, it is likely that a bridge existed in this location during the packhorse era. 

The mill and bloomery at Linbeck occupied the same site.  Mary Fair says in her Transactions paper on bloomeries:  “About a mile from the Forge Farm along the old road beside the Esk on its south side, is the ruin of a mill called Linbeck Mill. This is built on a slag-heap which extends to the beck, and other heaps are on the bank of the Esk. The old mill race (now dry) is cut through one of these slag-heaps. Adjacent are mounds of charcoal. There is a hollow much overgrown with bracken which may be a hearth site.... Mr. Southward informs me that the mill was working up to about eighteen years ago [1903]. An older mill, now completely vanished, formerly existed higher up Linbeck Ghyll.” (68)  In their era and if the mill and bloomery were operating then, packhorses would have been used for the transport of material to and from the mill and at least for the movement of charcoal to the bloomery if not also ore.

Murthwaite Posh on a bridleway along what was once the Roman Road along Muncaster Fell, now called Fell Lane.  Photo taken at about the location of the ‘o’ in ‘Roman’ on the large map. Courtesy Vyv Wood-Gee

Continuing downstream on the Esk but along the Roman Road, a Roman feature is shown. Robert Gambles describes it in his Story of the Lakeland Dales: “At Park House on the route of the Roman road under Muncaster Fell, a pottery and tilery were discovered which probably supplied most of the requirements of the various Roman buildings in Eskdale, making use of the local clay. Those who first read Collingwood’s description of this as being ‘of immense and expensive construction’ and then proceed to search for the site on the ground will be profoundly disappointed. There is very little to see other than a few grassy mounds and only the expert studies which have been made shed significant light on an important piece of Roman archaeology.” (69)It is easy to imagine that the stones or tiles used to build the buildings at the tilery were re-purposed into other buildings in the area.And it is easy to imagine that local horse or pony power would have been used to move these materials about, probably via sledge.

Numerous Woods and a Peat area are shown on our map between the Roman tilery and Ravenglass.  Parkhouse Moss is the Peat area and is shown on the Detailed Old Map.  The Woods shown on the Detailed Old Map include Birks Coppice, Parkhouse Coppice, Chapel Wood, Spout Wood, Tarn Wood, and Green Wood.  There is also a Whinny Bank shown, perhaps a reflection of historic use of packhorse or other equine power.  On the south side of the River Esk are Hinninghouse Wood, Waste Wood, Whins Wood, and Ewecrag Wood.

Two ‘Inns, Halls, or Castles’ are shown on our map near the mouth of the River Esk.  The northern one marks the location of Muncaster Castle.  In Bob Orrell’s book The Best Guide to Ravenglass, he writes, “The name Muncaster is a corruption of Mulcaster or Moelcastre, meaning ‘the castle on the sand or promontory by the sea.’” (70)  In his book Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, he suggests that the spot has been occupied since the 13th century, though “The original castle would have been little more than a fortified tower built on high ground with a spectacular view of the Eskdale valley and the sea to give an early warning of invaders.” (71)  He also says, in the 1980s “…I was riding through the estate and [Sir Geoffrey William Pennington-Ramsden, Bart.] stopped to admire Thor, my Fell pony.  While Thor gorged the seventh Baronet’s grass we sat on a convenient log and he told me about the horses he had bred in his youth…” (72)  It is likely, given the long history of occupation on this spot, that packhorses would have serviced Muncaster Castle during their era. 

Numerous Woods are shown on our map in the vicinity of Muncaster Castle.  The Detailed Old Map names them Dovecote Wood, Decoy Wood, Croft Coppice, and Haggs Wood.

The second ‘Inn, Hall, or Castle’ noted on the map is Hall Waberthwaite.  Bob Orrell says in Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, “The name Waberthwaite is believed to have originated from Wyberg, a Viking invader who settled there and cleared the land to form Wyberg’s thwaite (a clearing).  A Norse cross in Hall Waberthwaite churchyard is thought to mark his grave.” (73) 

Bob then relates an amusing story merging history and the modern day.  “A short distance from Waberthwaite is Hall Waberthwaite, which sometimes confuses visitors, like the couple from San Francisco I once met who, when they eventually reached this undisturbed tiny collection of farms, cottages and a very old church hidden away at the edge of a marsh, felt cheated that there was no ivy-covered seventeenth century ancestral mansion with peacocks in the garden.  In its day Hall Waberthwaite was reputed to have had an Inn…  The Inn was sited advantageously on an important drove road at a point where it crossed the river Esk by a ford, that at low tide was passable and at high tide impossible.  The landlord used to trick unwary travelers into believing that they had arrived when the tide was rising and it was dangerous to cross; they would then have to pay for a meal at the Inn or, even more profitably, stay for dinner, bed and breakfast.” (74)  The Detailed Old Map labels the ford as ‘Roman ford.’ 

Bob continues in his book Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, “In the 1970s I crossed [the ford] at low water on a Fell Pony, and what once was hard sand had been churned into a very dodgy layer of thick mud by centuries of swift flowing tides.  Since then it can only have got worse.” (75)  Fords were generally not the preferred method of crossing water by pack trains;  bridges were preferred in order to keep the loads dry.  However, the proximity of these features to Ravenglass, the fact that the ford and inn were used by drovers which often shared routes with packmen, and that there are nearby well-established coastal routes suggest that perhaps these features were indeed utilized by packhorses in their era.  Maggie says, “I would say fords were favoured by pack trains when the water was low because some of the pack bridges were such a narrow challenge, though vital when rivers had risen.  In this case there would be no doubt that both packmen and drovers used this route.”

Ravenglass Harbor courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson and copyright Luke James Godden

The one last feature on our map before the village of Ravenglass is a Roman one.  While the Romans aren’t usually associated with packhorses, their early movements in the area and construction of roads influenced transport in the valley of the River Esk from their time onward.  Bob Orrell says in his book The Best Guide to Ravenglass about the Roman fort at Ravenglass: “The Romans called the fort Clanoventa or Glannibanta, and by the end of the first century (AD 100) another fort had been built at the head of the Eskdale valley on Hardknott Pass.  Both these forts were of strategic importance, for Ravenglass was the finest harbour on the north west coast and Hardknott commanded the mountain pass into the interior.  Judging by the number of Roman roads radiating from Ravenglass there must have been a lot of movement of troops and supplies in and out of the garrison.” (76)

Bob Orrell lived in Ravenglass for fifteen years.  In addition to his appreciation of Fell Ponies, he is also a sailor and developed an appreciation for the role Ravenglass played in the area’s history during the packhorse era.  From his book Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast:  “There have been a lot of changes over the years but even in twenty-first century Ravenglass, with its yellow lines, its ‘Residents Only’ parking signs, its ‘Private Property’ notices and its glut of cars, it is not easy to walk past the very old cottages on the seaward side of the village main street and not imagine the shady figures of smugglers landing from boats with muffled oars and carrying kegs of rum, whisky and brandy into the eager arms of the cottagers.” (77)

Bob continues:  “We know that booze and baccy came into the country, and that salt and wadd [pencil lead] went out, but where along the coast did this booming activity take place?  Attention naturally focuses on Ravenglass with its quiet harbour and sleepy little houses sprawled higgledy-piggledy across the shingle….  In the early days of the ‘Running Trade’ it is very possible that the village was a smuggling haven, particularly when boats arrived regularly from the Isle of Man with cattle.  It would have been easy to hid a few kets [casks of liquor] in the hold and unload them when all was quiet.  Yet as the ‘Trade’ became busier and the excisemen were more vigilant, it was unlikely that anyone would have risked using Ravenglass…  For miles north and south of the estuary there are long expanses of lonely beach and sand dunes, often topped by an isolated farm house.  It is here that the smugglers would land and store their loot.” (78)

Bob points out in his book The Best Guide to Ravenglass that the town’s fair was an important event on the calendar.  First authorized in 1209, “The fair attracted people from miles around, and buyers came long distances to bid for cattle, sheep, and horses….  In 1675 it was described as ‘a grand fair of three days long for all sorts of cattle especially and other commodities from Ireland, the Isle of Man and Scotland.’”  (79)  It may well have been a destination for farmers driving their Fell Ponies in traps.  Bob had his own Fell Pony connection to the fair: “In the 1980s I had the honour of riding into the village on my Fell pony, and opening the fair…” (80)

The history of the valley of the River Esk is obviously rich, both within and around the era when packhorses were the primary modes of transportation for trade goods.  Robert Gambles, in his Story of the Lakeland Dales summarizes the era well:  “The concerns of sheep farming have been the primary pre-occupation of the inhabitants of Eskdale for many hundreds of years but from the mid-17th to the mid-20th centuries,… 1,500 years after the Romans had departed, their road along the riverside became a busy trading route.  Strings of pack horses wended their way towards the then flourishing port of Ravenglass, laden with panniers of slate, iron, wool, Borrowdale wad, charcoal, tanned leather, turned tools and implements of oak, ash and holly, and even hazel nuts, all local products, and on their return they brought cargoes of rum, brandy, sugar, molasses, tea, lace, salt and tobacco – all dutiable but not all known to the excisemen….  And this was only one of the many trails which converged on Eskdale.  The rounded hillock at Randle How, by Eskdale Green, appears to have been a veritable Piccadilly in these days, for this was the meeting point of six routes.” (81)  In time hopefully more stories will be told about how the ancestors of today’s Fell Ponies enriched the lives of their human partners in the Woods, the quarries, and on the tracks of Eskdale and its environs.

1. Hartwell, Michael.  An Illustrated Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of the Lake District.  Earnest Press, 1994, p. 110

2. Wordsworth, William.  Guide Through the District of the Lakes in the North of England, With a Description of the Scenery, etc. For the use of Tourists and Residents.  Fifth Edition, 1835, p. 3.

3. Millard, Sue.  A Century of Fells.  Dawbank, Greenholme, Cumbria, England:  Jackdaw Ebooks, 2022, p. 15.

4. Walking in the Footsteps of Mary Fair (Footsteps).  Eskdale and District Local History Society, 2008, p. 5

5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_horse_in_Britain

6. Lake District National Park Partnership, “Description of the English Lake District, Section 2.a,” Nomination of the English Lake District for Inscription on the World Heritage List, p. 104

7. Austin, Albyn.  “The Mines of Eskdale,” The CIHS Newsletter, May 1990 at https://www.cumbria-industries.org.uk/a-z-of-industries/iron-mining/the-mines-of-eskdale/

8. Winchester, Angus.  “Peat Storage Huts in Eskdale,” CWAAS Transactions, Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and Archaeological Society, 1984, p. 109.

9. http://www.romanroads.org/gazetteer/cumbria/M740.htm

10. Orrell, Robert.  Saddle Tramp in the Lake District.  London, Granada Publishing Limited, 1982, p. 164-165.

11. Same as #10.

12. Gambles, Robert.  The Story of the Lakeland Dales. Phillimore & Co. Ltd, Chichester, 1997.p. 63

13. Footsteps, p. 19.

14. Gambles, p. 64.

15. Dickinson, Maggie B.  “Rebel with a cause,” Cumbria, February 2017, p. 28.

16. https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/features/eskdale

17. Gambles, p. 67.

18. Greenbank, Tony.  “King of the crags,” The Guardian, 10/21/12 at https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2012/oct/21/eskdale-cumbrian-king-crags

19. Parker, Dr. Charles A., and Miss Mary C. Fair.  “Bloomery Sites in Eskdale and Wasdale – Part 1,”  CWAAS Transactions, 7/7/21, p. 96-7.

20. Hinchliffe, Ernest. A Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of England. Milnthorpe, Cumbria: Cicerone Press, 1994, p. 51.

21. Hartwell, p. 106.

22. Winchester, p. 107.

23. Winchester, p. 105.

24. The Detailed Old Map is available at this link:  https://www.archiuk.com/cgi-bin/build_nls_historic_map_archi_sub.pl?map_location=%20Fisherground%20XXXXFRMXXXX%20Cumbria&search_location=Fisherground%20XXXXFRMXXXX,%20Cumbria,%20NY1500,%20NY%2015%2000&os_series=1&is_sub=&pwd=&latitude=54.388360&longitude=-3.310447&postcode=

25. Orrell, p. 167.

26. Gambles, Robert, and Dr. Sam Forrester.  “Doctor Bridge, Eskdale,” Conserving Lakeland, edition 30 - Winter 1997, p. 16.

27. Winchester, p. 111.

28. “Ancient Monuments in this township 1923 List Birker and Austhwaite” at https://www.cumbriacountyhistory.org.uk/sites/default/files/am_birker_austhwaite.pdf

29. Parker and Fair, p. 96.

30. Fair, Miss Mary C.  “Some notes on the Eskdale Twentyfour Book,” CWAAS Transactions, 4/7/21, p. 77.

31. https://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/topics/innf.htm

32. http://www.visitoruk.com/Ambleside/eskdale-C592-V27120.html

33. Eskdale Show history page as accessed January 2016 and no longer on-line

34. https://www.cumbria-industries.org.uk/woollen-mills/

35. http://www.pastpresented.ukart.com/eskdale/gillbank.htm

36. Hartwell, p. 113.

37. https://eskdale.info/history.html as accessed 4/24/22

38. Gambles, p. 67.

39. Orrell, Bob.  Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast.  Seascale, Cumbria, England:  Bob Orrell Publications, 2012, p. 59.

40. https://www.eskdalemill.co.uk/history/the-mill-building/ as accessed 4/24/22

41. https://www.eskdalemill.co.uk/history/mills-in-the-lake-district/ as accessed 4/24/22

42. https://www.eskdalemill.co.uk/history/eskdale-mill-the-community/ as accessed 4/24/22

43. Dickinson, Maggie.  “Grist to the Mill,” Cumbria, December 2016, p. 53.

44. Hinchliffe, p. 37-8.

45. Winchester, p. 103.

46. Orrell, Saddle Tramp, p. 35.

47. Parker and Fair, p. 96.

48. Fair, Miss Mary C.  “Austhwaite and Dalegarth,” CWAAS Transactions, 9/18/1928, p. 265.

49. Parker and Fair, p. 95.

50. Parker and Fair, p. 97.

51. Winchester, p. 105.

52. Parker and Fair, p. 95.

53. https://www.stanleyghyll-eskdale.co.uk/history/

54. Parker and Fair, p. 95.

55. Winchester, p. 107.

56. Gambles, p 72.

57. Bangarth And Blea Tarn Iron Mines, Eskdale, Cumbria Archaeological Survey Report, Oxford Archaeology North, November 2012, p. 23.

58. Parker and Fair, p. 92.

59. Fair, Miss Mary C. “A Relic of Pack-Horse Days in Eskdale,” CWAAS Transactions, 7/7/1921, p. 100.

60. Fair, “Pack-Horse Days,” p. 99.

61. Footsteps, p. 30.

62. The Forest Howe reference is in Parker and Fair, p. 92.  The Rabbit How reference is in Footsteps, p. 30.

63. Tylecote, R.F. and J. Cherry. “The 17th-century bloomery at Muncaster Head,” CWAAS Transactions, 7/3/1970, p. 104.

64. Footsteps, p. 28.

65. Tylecote and Cherry, p. 87-88.

66. Tylecote and Cherry, p. 97.

67. Footsteps, p. 38.

68. Parker and Fair, p. 94-95.

69. Gambles, p. 66.

70. Orrell, Robert.  The Best Guide to Ravenglass.  Gillerthwaite, Ennerdale, Cumbria:  Best Publishing Company, 1976, p. 53.

71. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 40.

72. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 43.

73. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 39.

74. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 39.

75. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 40.

76. Orrell, The Best Guide to Ravenglass, p. 20-1.

77. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 51.

78. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 28-29.

79. Orrell, The Best Guide to Ravenglass, p. 3.

80. Orrell, Cumberland’s Rum Butter Coast, p. 46.

81. Gambles, p. 68.

The author is grateful to Christine Robinson for facilitating our packhorse day hike over Burnmoor in 2015, and I am grateful to my late husband who humored my desire for this journey; he is pictured in the first photo. I am grateful to my friend Eddie McDonough for inspiring the packhorse trip over Burnmoor. I am also grateful to Maggie B. Dickinson for sharing of her treasure trove of materials about packhorses in Eskdale. And the author is grateful to Vyv Wood-Gee for sharing her photographs of her 2021 ride in the valley of the River Esk.

Two Chain Wind

I am told that the windy weather we’ve been having this month is unprecedented for our location. Being told that by someone who’s lived here for nearly 50 years, I’m inclined to believe it, even though wind is usually synonymous with South Dakota.

Today began with the discovery that a gate that has been chained shut for more than two years was blown open. An advantage of the fresh snow on the ground was that it was easy to see where my Fell Pony mare herd had gone. An advantage of it being April and it being warmer today is that there were wind-blown gaps in the snow, so the ponies hadn’t gone far because of the distraction of fresh green grass.

Stallion at left; mares in cattle feed bunk, center; young dog thinking he has work to do, right.

One of the things on my day’s to-do list was to tease mares. They checked that off my list by stopping at the stallion pen, showing me who was in heat and who was not. Handy! And I was very thankful for the stout fence that surrounds the stallion pen since ponies on both sides of it were testing it with their excitement.

I had been wanting to put cattle hay left in a feed bunk to use in some way, and that too proved a distraction for the herd from traveling too far. It also meant that when I took pony hay into the corrals, nobody followed me like they often do. I did manage to get two ponies, uninterested in their hormones, into the corral, but when I went to get the mares in heat, they took off back toward the gate they had come through, somewhat motivated by my young dog who couldn’t help but try to push them where they wanted to go which wasn’t where I wanted them to go. He was quickly leashed and then kenneled. And I was immediately sorry I had shut the pasture gate, since it’s likely the herd would have put themselves back in their pasture had I left it open.

The mares may have been trying to go back through the red gates that they had come through, but I had shut them. Green grass under the snow, though, kept them close by.

Another gate open that wasn’t supposed to be, so these three were missing from my roll call but quickly returned to the herd.

Eventually I got the rest of the herd behind the fence where they belonged and we headed to the corrals to get everyone back together. Once reunited and gates shut, I went to get hay, as is my habit, only to discover upon returning to the corral that what I had previously put out had not been eaten. I also was missing three ponies. Investigation found another gate open that shouldn’t have been, so I straightened that out before heading back to deal with the gate that had been open to start this rodeo.

About a week earlier, a double gate at a cattle pasture had blown open, so I had begun double-chaining it, and we hadn’t had loose cattle for that reason since. Before that, the stallion pen double gates had blown open when only shut with a single chain; they are now double-chained. The double gate on the pony pasture fence had only ever had a single chain since the gates were put in two years ago. That in itself suggests that the wind we’ve had recently has been more significant than the past two years.

Top image: only one chain; the second chain is still welded to a pipe as when the gate was purchased. Bottom: gate is double-chained. Young dog is being truly helpful (keeping me company) now.

When I checked the double gate at the cattle pasture this morning, the tails of both chains were flipped up and over a pipe and close to coming unlatched. I immediately thought of the story about monkeys and typewriters and eventually the works of Shakespeare being written. Given enough time, I could easily see how the wind would batter those gates back and forth and the chains would work loose. I’m counting on it taking twice as much random activity and wind for two chains to be worked loose compared to one.

I got my tools and put a second chain on the pony pasture double gates. I hope I never have to experience a two-chain wind. One chain winds are more than enough.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The Wisdom of Homesteaders and Ponies

When I woke up this morning, I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw when I barely raised my head from the pillow was my ponies grazing. That small hillside visible through my bedroom window was an odd location for them to be first thing in the morning. But my ears told me why they were there: wind.

Later, after I had gotten vertical, the herd was standing around the foaling sheds in front of my house. It seemed another odd choice given they have acres of green grass appearing for the first time in months. But it was a wise choice because of the wind.

This part of the ranch is the most sheltered of all during weather like this. It’s really not surprising, then, that the original homestead house is not far from where my house is. I have found, living rurally for the past three decades, that often you can learn a lot about the climate of a place by where the homesteaders placed their house. Here, it was in the shadow of a big hill in a narrow valley that runs roughly northeast-southwest. This location provided protection from the predominant winds from the northwest, like those we’re experiencing today.

The ponies seem to have the same good sense as the homesteaders about where there’s protection from weather. I learn a lot about the climate of this place by watching them on days like today!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Choosing a Stallion for a Mare

It’s getting to be that time of year when people are pondering breeding their mares. I was asked how I choose a stallion for my mares. It’s a decent question since I have three foals due, by three different stallions!

From my perspective, there are three fundamental questions to consider when choosing to breed a mare:

1. Do you need to breed? This is the title of a chapter in my first Fell Pony Observations book, and while it may seem annoying, it is based in the fact that there are many, many unwanted equines. I have even seen unwanted Fell Ponies, and it’s not something I want to see again. So if we’re wanting to bring another Fell Pony into the world, we’d best have a pretty good reason to do it. Click here if you’d like to read the chapter from my book. Spoiler alert: breeding a mare isn’t a way to make a profit…! If you decide to breed to produce something to sell, be prepared to keep the foal for as long as four years, which is the longest I’ve had to keep one before it sold, thanks to the Great Recession. So, ask yourself honestly: do I really need to find a stallion for my mare after all?

2. What are you breeding for? The Conservation Breeding Handbook states: “A basic and guiding philosophy is the single most critical component of any breeding program. A breeder’s first task is the development of a specific purpose in breeding animals. This may seem obvious, but it is very often overlooked, with the result that breeding is done with little progress toward any goal.” (1) Putting another rare breed foal on the ground isn’t a good enough reason (see #1 above). Rare breeds, including the Fell, don’t need randomly bred animals that may cause people to choose what they know instead of something unusual like a Fell. You will want to choose a stallion that will produce with your mare a foal that is consistent with your breeding philosophy. If you are interested in reading the chapter ‘Breeding with Intent’ from my first Observations book, click here.

3. Where does your mare need improvement? There is no such thing as a perfect pony, so it’s important to choose a stallion that will improve on her. In Sue Millard’s very important book Hoofprints in Eden, she quotes Ivan Alexander of the Lune Valley Fell Ponies as saying, “It’s more of a ‘trying to knit ‘em together,’ than ‘picking two good ‘uns.’ You’ve to try and find summat that’ll suit what you‘ve got. Mind, having said that, you want summat that you like, cause if you don’t like it to start with you’ll never like it, will you?” (2) There is an entire chapter on creating the next generation of Fell Ponies in Hoofprints, collecting the wisdom of the long-time breeders Sue interviewed for the book, so I highly recommend reading it. Click here for reviews and more information.

It's one thing to ask these questions, and another to answer them, so here’s my current answers. 1) I have chosen to continue to breed Fell Ponies despite the unwanted-equine problem because I have a clear view of what is special about the breed and of how to produce ponies that will be good partners for their humans so are unlikely to become unwanted. If I don’t feel I can produce ponies like that, I don’t breed. 2) My breeding philosophy is to produce ponies that have important breed characteristics that I feel are in danger, specifically proper movement (very different than action) and a ‘package’ suited to the breed’s historic versatility: ride/drive/draft/pack. 3) I am my mares’ own worst critic. None of them so far fit the picture in my mind’s eye of an ideal Fell Pony. If you don’t know where your mare’s faults are, find them, because there is no such thing as a perfect pony. I used three stallions last year to see how they could improve the three mares.

I chose to use three stallions for three reasons: First, I’ve used all three of these stallions before, so I have seen what they throw, and I know there’s always more to learn. Second, all three mares have been bred before, so I have seen what they throw, and again I know there’s always more to learn. Finally, each pair had unique circumstances. In one case, I felt an outside stallion was a better fit for my mare than the stallion that I have. In another case, I very much liked what my stallion and the mare produced, and I’m looking forward to another just like it. And in the last case, I bred a very good mare to the father of a filly I own to learn more about the filly.

I was asked whether I prefer stallions that have a history of working. While I have used that criteria in the past, there’s so much more to what a stallion brings to breeding. I was reminded of the late Walter Lloyd’s advice. Walter was the long-time breeder of the Hades Hill ponies and someone who put Fell Ponies to work in numerous ways. Walter’s son Tom is now stewarding the Hades Hill herd and shared Walter’s selection criteria for either gender in a Fell Pony Podcast: 1) will it survive on the fell? 2) will it breed (recognizing that not all ponies will), and 3) can you work with the temperament? (3) Notice that only one of these has to do with working, and it isn’t even about working in the strictest sense of the word. It also occurs to me that a temperament that one person can work with isn’t necessarily one that another person would choose. So again, we as mare owners must answer the three questions above and develop our own unique selection criteria.

Several of the breeders interviewed in Hoofprints said something similar to this advice from Barry Mallinson of the Hardendale Fell Ponies: “People want to look at what to improve. I look at the actual quality of the ponies. You’re just trying to breed better each time as you go along. And it can go wrong. It can throw back to its grandparents and you’re nearly back to step one again.” (4) Breeding is obviously not for the faint of heart!

1. Sponenberg, D. Phillip and Carolyn J. Christman. A Conservation Breeding Handbook. Pittsboro, North Carolina: The American Livestock Breeds Conservancy, 1995, p. 11.

2. Millard, Sue. Hoofprints in Eden, Hayloft Publishing, Kirkby-Stephen, Cumbria, England, 2003, p. 97.

3. Lloyd, Tom. “Episode 10: Ruth Chamberlain,” Fell Pony Podcast at https://fellpony.co.uk/podcast/2022/1/10/episode-10-ruth-chamberlain

4. Millard, p. 97.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

The Wayward Band

My three Fell Ponies that were missing the previous morning were at the barn when I got there. Thank goodness for small favors! After I knew they weren’t at the barn with the rest of the herd the day before, I had walked many more steps than usual to get them back home. When I found them missing, I talked to my neighbor, and he said the ranch hand had told him I had ponies out of their pasture. Unfortunately, I then got some incorrect information about where they were, one reason I walked more steps than usual while finding them. The picture has a red arrow pointing to the ponies, and a green arrow pointing approximately to where the fence is. Their pasture is back of the green arrow.

The wayward band on high

It was almost exactly a year to the day from when I had to retrieve one member of this band from the same place. Elk had once again removed a portion of fence, and apparently the grass was greener on the other side. She took two friends with her this time. Pony #1’s mother was recently sold by her breeder because she had a similar habit. I’m hoping fence repair will keep this from becoming that severe an annoyance.

The wayward band on the wrong side of the fence.

When I finally got to them on my second try, I haltered the band leader, found the spot in the fence that was breeched, and led her to it. With a little coaxing, she stepped over the remaining wire that was about 10” off the ground. I led her several yards away, removed the halter, and went back for the next pony.

Pony #2 took matters into her own hands … or hoofs! She ran up the fence to the breeched portion and beautifully jumped the remaining wire to join Pony #1. Before long they were out of sight, which of course worried Pony #3. I haltered her and tried to coax her over the wire where the other two had gone, but she refused to lift her feet high enough to clear the wire. I then tried holding the wire down to the ground with my foot, and she still refused. She touched the wire an inch off the ground and backed away. Darn! I found it quite awkward to hold the wire down and try to direct her over it, so I mentally went in search of a different solution.

Next I took the halter off and walked over the downed fence section in the direction that the other two ponies had gone, thinking that might encourage another jumping display. It ended up being a poor choice. Pony #3 seemed to be upset at being ‘abandoned’ and ran the other direction along the fence out of sight. The fence went down a very steep and rocky hillside, so I slowly picked my way to Pony #3 when I could finally see her. Fortunately she waited for me to arrive, and I apologized for my poor choice. I haltered her and led her down to a gate at the pasture corner and led her through. When I released her, she took off toward the barn at a run. When I got back to the barn a little while later, all three of my wayward band were there as if nothing unusual had happened.

One of several benefits of retrieving the wayward band was finding this first wildflower of the spring!

While the search process was a bit laborious, it was still an enjoyable outing. I got to see some beautiful country and got to spend time with the wayward band out on the hill. I also got to see my first wildflower blossom of the spring, a pasqueflower! Well worth the effort!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

There are more stories like this one in my book The Partnered Pony, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Natural Herd Size

I returned in the middle of the night from a twelve-hour trip off the ranch for a family birthday party. Under the nearly full moon upon my return, I let my dogs out of the kennel and fed them. Then we walked to the stallion pen to feed my boy there. When I got back to my house, thanks to the moon, I could see that there were a few ponies in the pasture nearby. I went through the gate and greeted each of them. It turned out there were six there to acknowledge my return home. It’s always a source of happiness when they choose to greet me in this way.

There are nine ponies on that pasture now, but they are often split into two herds, one of six and the other of three. It is always of interest to me when all nine are together and then when the bands are smaller. When I moved here, after the foals of that year were all gone to their new homes, the six remaining ponies stayed together nearly all the time. A year ago, there were seven on the pasture, and usually they all ran together, but sometimes a pair peeled off and ran separately.

My observations of these group dynamics caused me to take special note of a brief part of a conversation between Tom Lloyd and Bert Morland on the Fell Pony Podcast. Tom is the host of the show and is the steward of the Hades Hill herd which is a fell-running herd. Bert was the guest on that episode and is the steward of the Lunesdale herd, another fell-running herd. I think it was Tom who said that he has observed that his ponies tend to divide into groups of six or seven, and Bert agreed. I was left with the impression that this size is what could be considered natural for our ponies.

When I heard the conversation between Tom and Bert about natural herd size, I had already been pondering reducing my herd back down to that six or seven size for a number of other reasons. Now I have this new perspective of natural herd size to contemplate as I make decisions. While I could increase my numbers to have two herds of six or seven, I am more likely to cut back to a single herd from my current nine. Stewarding these ponies is a source of endless fascination!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Coming Back from a Scare

Our ponies can make us complacent around them because they are so friendly and calm which makes coming back from a scare challenging.

They happen to all of us.  Accidents are part of life as equestrians. From getting a toe stepped on when picking hooves to coming off when riding or even getting run over when in a herd situation, accidents happen.  And they often cause us to start approaching our ponies differently.  Sometimes we’re more cautious, sometimes more forceful, sometimes more tentative, sometimes angry.  I was talking to a friend, and he said his first thought was to be angry.  I on the other hand after a scare feel unconfident around my ponies despite having them in my life for more than two decades.  I think that these differences between the genders are common.  Though we may differ in how we express ourselves, the underlying truth is we may be afraid.  What do we do to get back to enjoying being with our ponies again?

I have certainly had to walk this path back to feeling safe being around my ponies.  More than once.  I have learned that the first thing on the path back is to honor the fear, not try to muffle it or ignore it.  It’s important to be safe and to take appropriate action when we don’t feel safe.  Don’t get back in the saddle.  Don’t enter the stall.  Don’t walk in the pasture.  Not until we have a strategy to feel safe again.

Part of that feeling of safety is trust.  Trusting ourselves to make better choices.  Trusting our pony not to hurt us.  Trusting ourselves to know when a pony is safe to be around or when it’s not.  There is a great discussion of trust between horse and human in the February 8, 2022 Mastery Horsemanship blog post by Don and Rachel Jessop (click here).

Then I’ve learned that baby steps work best.  Thinking of our previous routine and finding one small thing that still feels doable is a great place to start.  Haltering a pony is an example, keeping in mind that this in itself is a multi-step process.  Or just offering the halter and lead rope to our pony for them to sniff.   Even just letting a pony sniff our hand over a fence could be a good way to get started.  Fences are our friends when coming back from a scare.

Because our ponies tend toward the quieter side of the temperament spectrum and often like to engage with us, we can forget that they are much larger than we are and have independent minds.  Our ponies can therefore move instantaneously if so motivated, whether we are in the way or not.  I heard a clinician say once that it’s important to have equal parts draw and drive, meaning that while we want them to come to us, we also want them to go away from us when we ask.  With our ponies, it is easy to have more draw than drive.  We need to make special effort to sculpt that drive away to keep ourselves safe.

In a herd or pasture setting, I have also learned the importance of ‘getting big.’  If my herd starts approaching me at a run when coming toward me and I get concerned for my safety, especially from playful youngsters, I will flap my arms away from my body to make it clear that I want them to stay away from me.  I will use my elbows similarly when distributing hay in a paddock for the herd.  With stallions I will sometimes use a plastic bag on the end of a whip or a flag or a stick-and-string to ‘get big,’ creating a larger space that I don’t want the pony to enter unless invited.  If I have visitors who are not pony-savvy, I will carry a flag to create space around them since they aren’t aware they need to do it for themselves.

That my ponies are so interested in ‘talking’ to me when they see me makes stewarding them so enjoyable.  Yet there are times when I have to approach them in new ways.  And I have to ask them to approach me in new ways to keep our relationship healthy.  Relationships with ponies, and all things, are a process not a destination. There’s always work to do!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Variations in Equine Spinal Columns

I have always found the wide range of neck and back lengths in Fell Ponies baffling. A new study about other breeds helped me be less baffled!

One of the things that I’ve found baffling about Fell Ponies since I got involved with the breed is the amount of variation in the lengths of necks and backs in our ponies.  I have seen necks both long like I’m accustomed to seeing on riding horses and then shorter and stronger like I’ve seen on draft horses.  I have seen short backs and long underlines on some ponies and ponies called sausages by their owners because of their long barrels between front and back legs.  I had thought that with a standardized breed, a closed stud book, and an emphasis on proper type in the breed description that there would be more consistency in conformation in our ponies.

 You’ll understand then my interest in and then fascination with a study that came out recently involving warmbloods, Koniks, and Shetlands.  The study looked at variations in spinal columns and ribs within and across breeds.  I had read early in my horse-crazy days that Arabs have fewer vertebrae than other equines, but I thought that breed was an outlier.  I was wrong!  The study put in new context a comment I once received about a photo of one of my Fell Ponies.  I was told that old timers would have said the pony had an extra rib and/or vertebra.  At the time, I dismissed the comment as impossible, but now I’m understanding it with new appreciation.

 The study, done in The Netherlands, looked at 30 Warmbloods, 29 Shetland ponies, and 18 Konik horses.  It was done post-mortem by computed tomography without associated information about the individual equines when they were living.  And because of limited access to the cadavers used in the study, the necks of the equines were not included in the study.  While the study was looking at the outset at Warmbloods, the Shetland and Konik were included because they were considered more primitive breeds against which it was hoped comparisons could be made.

 The abstract says, “The as-standard-described-equine-formula of 18 [thoracic], 6 [lumbar] and 5 [sacral] vertebrae was seen in 78% of Konik horses, but only in 53% Warmblood horses and 38% Shetland ponies.”  (1)  Here was the first ah-ha moment:  the ‘as-standard’ count of vertebrae is anything but standard!  There’s variation, especially in the one pony breed studied.  In fact, the Shetland showed more variation in many of the measurements taken.

 Then the discussion of number of ribs showed similar findings.  While 90% of specimens had 18 pairs of ribs, Shetlands varied in a few specimens from 17 to 19 pair, while the other breeds didn’t have this wide range.  One Shetland had different numbers one side to the other. 

 Like any good study, the authors came up with as many more questions as they answered.  For instance, did some of the differences seen in Warmbloods result from selective breeding for back mobility?  Did any of the noted differences have implications for performance? 

None of the three breeds in this study are closely related to the Fell Pony, but the variations in findings certainly suggest that there would be variation in the Fell Pony spinal column as well.  Given that our breed has been valued for its ability to be used in a variety of ways (ride, drive, draft, pack), it also makes sense we could have variation in the underlying anatomy.  Overall, I am grateful for the revision to my understanding of the ‘as-standard’ formula for equine vertebrae.  I highly recommend reading the full paper, a link to which is included in the footnote (or click here), if you are at all interested in this topic; I’ve just scratched the surface here regarding how varied equine spinal columns can be.

 1)      Spoormakers TJ, Veraa S, Graat EA, van Weeren PR, Brommer H. A comparative study of breed differences in the anatomical configuration of the equine vertebral column. Journal of Anatomy. 2021;239:829–838. https://doi.org/10.1111/joa.13456

 © Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Packhorse History in The Duddon Valley

View up the Duddon Valley from the old packhorse track and coach road over Bleabeck Bridge.  Courtesy and copyright Maggie B. Dickinson

The Duddon Valley in the southwestern part of the Lake District in England is a place where the Fell Pony’s history is both visible and invisible at the same time. It is visible because of the historic use of ancestors of our ponies as packhorses. Features associated with packhorses and the industries that packhorses supported are numerous in the valley. These features include packhorse bridges, the remains of mills, inns, and mining activity and iron smelting, and there are Woods. The Fell Pony’s history in the Duddon Valley is invisible in the sense that stories of this valley sometimes ignore the presence of agriculture and industry and the early horsepower that made it possible.

A book about the early iron industry in the southwestern part of the Lake District noted similar visibility and invisibility.  From the book Furness Iron: 

The Lake District we now see is the Lake District that Wordsworth, Coleridge and their followers taught us to see – a largely natural landscape unsullied by human hand.  Yet all the historical and archaeological evidence shows that Cumbria has been shaped by the human race for millennia in pursuit of settlement, hunting grounds, agricultural and pastoral land, religious observance, warfare and industry.  In particular, the agricultural and industrial activities have left their widespread mark on the countryside…. (1)

The Duddon Valley was the favorite of William Wordsworth in particular.  His most famous poems are often considered to be the Duddon Sonnets, thirty-four pieces celebrating the valley from headwaters to estuary that he wrote between 1804 and 1820.  To see a video with excerpts of the sonnets and actual scenes of the river, click here.

The Duddon Valley lies within the Lake District National Park which became a World Heritage Site in 2017.  The World Heritage Site planning documents are based on three themes:  inspiration, conservation, and identity.  Inspiration refers to how the Lake District inspired artists and writers of the Picturesque and Romantic movements.   Conservation refers to the global movement of protected areas and recreational experience, a movement that is said to have begun in the Lake District.  Identity refers to the agropastoral and industrial past and present of the Lake District. 

Wordsworth largely ignored the agricultural and industrial aspects of the valley, in some cases even disparaging them, such as describing the remains of a mill in Seathwaite as “a mean and disagreeable object.” (2)  As Wordsworth scholar Saeko Yoshikawa has written, “For Wordsworth the variegated Duddon was an epitome of the Lake District as a whole, guiding us to appreciate its beauties and counselling their protection for the years to come.”  (3)  Here we see an emphasis on the Inspiration and Conservation themes.  Thank goodness for the Identity theme, home to the more practical aspects of the valley, for it allows the role that the ancestors of today’s Fell Ponies played to become visible.

The map here shows the 25-mile reach of the River Duddon, with the valley approximated in pale yellow.  The River Lickle is shown in the mid-lower right; the packhorse-related history of the Lickle Valley was covered previously.  Click here if you would like to read that article.  I am grateful to my colleague Maggie B. Dickinson for her generous sharing of photographs and research about the Duddon Valley’s packhorse-related features.

The Duddon Valley map shown here indicates the rough locations of features that are related to the historic use of packhorses.  While ‘packhorses’ is the usual term, history says they were ponies by stature since they were usually less than 14hh.  A stout but shorter equine made it easier to lift heavy panniers onto the pack saddles.

Black lines are roads, either modern or ancient.  Often modern roads follow the same routes as historic tracks because they were found over time to be the most efficient way to get from point A to point B.  Maggie wrote in her article “Bridges of Cumbria County” in Cumbria magazine, “[Until] the turnpike roads, canals and railways rendered it uneconomical, the transfer of goods went via packhorse, the hilly routes being preferable to negotiating badly-drained valleys.” (4) 

A 2009 collaborative project between the Duddon Valley Local History Group and the Lake District National Park has substantial information about the Duddon Valley.  It is called Ring Cairns to Reservoirs: Archaeological Discoveries in the Duddon Valley, Cumbria.  ‘Ring Cairns’ refers to the many sites in the valley dating back two to three thousand years, and reservoirs refers to modern development at Seathwaite Tarn.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs the document echoes the preference Maggie mentioned about the location of packhorse tracks: “[Ancient track-ways] are well above the level of the valley floor which, prior to land drainage, would have been boggy and impenetrable.”  (5)

Paul Hindle, in his book Roads and Tracks of the Lake District says, “Before the construction of the turnpike roads, most goods had to be moved around the Lake District by packhorse – indeed it is likely that before 1750 it was impossible to get most wheeled vehicles westwards from Kendal…  Along the packhorse routes trains of up to thirty horses, each carrying loads of up to [220 pounds] would move in single file.  They went from one village to the next, along routes which had been in use since early medieval times, and which in most cases are still used as roads today.  Thus, the majority of these routes have been overlain by more modern roads.” (6) 

The Duddon Valley from Kiln Bank.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

On the map, ‘Grounds’ are shown.These are farms with historic associations with Furness Abbey during the monastic period.The packhorse-related history of Furness Abbey was covered previously. Click here if you would like to read that article.Maggie considers the monastic era to be the beginning of significant use of packhorses for moving goods.In one of her articles in Cumbria magazine on packhorse history, she said, “Vital markets and fairs were established to satisfy the commercial needs of a growing consumer society that was centred on the abbeys, priories and castles.Packhorses were fundamental to that economy, moving commercial goods and the necessities of life on their backs, or dragging heavy goods on sleds.…Records of many such routes, still traceable on foot, can be found in abbey documents.” (7)Places like Grounds, then, as part of the Abbey’s network, would have been serviced by packhorses.

‘Woods’ were forests managed historically for making charcoal and other woodland products.  Charcoal was the fuel source for iron smelting, an early and prominent industrial activity of the Duddon Valley.  In Windermere Reflections, a 2012 archaeology report produced for the National Trust, it is noted how the Woods were used in the medieval period when packhorses would have been the primary transporters.  “The Furness Fells were primarily utilised in the medieval period for their woodland and iron ore. Substantial areas were cleared of trees to make charcoal, and associated with the woodlands were charcoal burning pits and platforms, as well as bloomeries for smelting the iron.” (8) 

Ring Cairns to Reservoirs points out that Woods produced more than charcoal.  “The wood that was obtained through the woodland industries was not all used for making charcoal…  Bobbins were needed in vast quantities by the Lancashire cotton mills from the early nineteenth century and the bobbin mills of south Cumbria supplied most of their demand.” (9)  Maggie says, “These bobbins were sent to the Lancashire Cotton Mills in the mid-1800s, and at this time the packhorses were still in full swing in such remote areas.” (10) 

Robert Gambles in his book The Story of the Lakeland Dales expands on the products produced in the Woods.  “Other ancient industries of these Duddon woodlands included the making of ‘swills’ or all-purpose baskets, bark-peeling for the tanning industry, the manufacture of barrels, casks and kegs (the cooper’s trade) and of hoops to go with them, the turning of handles for farm and household implements, the brush-making industry and the cutting of timber for fuel.”  (11)

Interestingly, many of the woodland industries eventually suffered from competition from imports.  Furness Iron says, “…bulk imports of poles and bark from America drove down the demand for these other woodland crafts.” (12)  Nonetheless, in their era, packhorses would have been crucial means of transport for these woodland industries.

The original side of Bleabeck Bridge in the Duddon Valley which was extended from its original packhorse width.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

‘Bridges’ are either known to have packhorse associations or are worthy of further investigation for packhorse associations. Bridges have the most obvious connections to packhorses and they have been the most researched and identified. However, some bridges have yet to be given the credit that they deserve. Maggie has found many that are not yet on the most common lists of packhorse bridges or in books about them. Bridges are considered to be packhorse bridges when they are on a known packhorse route, have low parapets to allow paniers to pass over them, are narrow, and were built during the packhorse era. The packhorse era is generally considered to have been prior to about 1750 when the turnpike roads began to be constructed in earnest, though in places road improvements didn’t come until much later, so packhorses continued in use.

On the map, mines, quarries, and drifts are shown.  Drifts are near-horizontal mine shafts following beds or veins of ore.  We do not have clear information about the dates of the workings of these mines, quarries, and drifts.  Hence we don’t specifically know which ones would have been serviced by packhorses.  The locations of mines, quarries and drifts on the map come primarily from Ring Cairns to Reservoirs. (13) 

Pitsteads are remnants of charcoal making platforms in the Woods.  Their locations are also from Ring Cairns to Reservoirs, which says about them, “On sloping ground these were often supported by retaining walls on the down-slope side. Over a hundred such platforms were recorded on the western side of the Duddon Valley alone.”  (14) 

Not shown are the remains of bark peeler’s huts which the local history group has also mapped. Bark was peeled to be used in the tanning of leather. It is possible that packhorses would have been used in the movement of bark.

The Newfield Inn in Seathwaite has packhorse era connections and is known for its floor made from slate from Walna Scar quarry.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

‘Inns and halls’ are places of lodging and eating/drinking with known packhorse associations.  These inns would of course have been near a known packhorse route.  Additionally they would have had a place for the packmen to sleep, had enclosed grass paddocks for the ponies to graze in overnight, and had space under lock and key for the packs to be stored.

‘Mills’ were usually water-powered so are found along water courses and were used for corn as well as for processing wool and cloth.  Other mills made wood products.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “Wool was not the only material used to produce fabric. We know that flax was grown to produce linen, and hemp for rope, sackcloth and rough ‘homespun’ fabric. The stalks of both these crops needed first to be soaked until the fleshy stems had rotted to release their coarse fibres. This was undertaken in ‘retting ponds’. The fabric produced from these plants also needed to go through a fulling process.” (15)   A fulling mill was where raw material was soaked in a mixture of water and urine and then walked on to cleanse and rid the wool of impurities.  Prior to good road access, packhorses would have brought raw materials to the mills and taken finished products away to market. 

Bloomeries smelted iron ore with charcoal as fuel.   Furnaces followed bloomeries as iron smelting facilities.   Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “At least two medieval ‘bloomeries’ (smelting sites) are known in the valley and it is likely that more await discovery….  Iron ore was most likely brought from the rich deposits in neighbouring Eskdale and smelted with charcoal which was produced by felling the small scrub trees on the lower fells and burning them in covered pits.” (16)  Iron ore during the medieval period would have been brought to the bloomeries by packhorses, and charcoal would have made the short trip from the Woods to the bloomeries similarly.

Remains of a potash kiln near Stephenson Ground in the Lickle Valley.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

‘K’ marks the possible location of potash kilns.Bracken and brashing (trimmed lower limbs of trees) were burned to make potash for making soap.Ponies would have been used to pack or sledge the bracken and brashings to the pit or kiln and then possibly to take the potash to the soap makers.The book Furness Iron suggests that potash production could have been underway as early as the 14th century.(17)

Ring Cairns to Reservoirs reported “Once spun, wool needs to go through a ‘fulling’ process whereby it is cleaned and pounded to produce a cloth with a close-knit weave. Cleaning was traditionally undertaken using lye soap. This soap was made from a fine, potassium-rich ash or ‘potash’. The potash was produced by local farmers to supplement their income. Most was produced from burning harvested green bracken which is very rich in potassium sulphate, although sometimes wood was used. During the survey we recorded a number of potash pits where such burning may have taken place. We also recorded several well-constructed potash kilns in varying states of preservation that were certainly used for this purpose.”  (18)

‘P’ marks the locations where peat was cut and stored to be used as fuel or where evidence of its transport has been found.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “The boggy sections of open hillside offered a further resource in the form of peat. Peat was cut for fuel until the beginning of the twentieth century. This was a valuable resource, and to take peat you had to have the legal ‘right of turbary’.… We noted many locations where peat cutting and transport had taken place and an unexpected number of previously unrecorded storage huts or ‘peat-scales’ remaining nearby.” (19)  We know that ponies were used in the Shetland Isles to pack peat.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs, however, suggests that in the Duddon Valley peat was usually sledged.  It is possible then that ponies were used in this way.

A mare I once owned, Newfarm Valencia, has a connection to the Duddon Valley.  Her sire was born at the Tarnbeck Stud which at one time was located near Seathwaite.

Finally, shown on the map is the location of the only Fell Pony breeder in the Duddon Valley with lasting impact on our breed.  The Tarnbeck Stud even has connections to North America; a mare I once owned was sired by Tarnbeck Lightning. Another Fell Pony connection to the Duddon Valley comes from Bob Orrell, author of the Saddle Tramp books. His mare Jewel came from Dunnerdale.

If we begin, as Wordsworth did in his Sonnets, at the top of the valley, then we will first see the important mountain passes of Wrynose and Hardknott.The source of the Duddon is at the base of Wrynose Pass.These two important passes were traversed by a Roman road connecting two of the approximately 25 Roman forts that were built in Cumbria from AD71 to AD383.The Roman roads in Cumbria were remarkably straight in most places.These are in contrast with the later packhorse tracks which tended to follow grades to make it easier on the loaded animals.And while the Roman roads connected the Roman forts, the packhorse tracks tended to connect market towns, quarries, mills, and farms.

Plate from the 1842 book Rambles by Rivers of the headwaters of the Duddon near Wrynose Pass. (20)

According to Maggie’s research, the Roman route over Wrynose and Hardknott passes was known as Smuggler’s Road and is believed to have been the last of Cumbria’s packhorse roads.  During monastic times, this route would have connected the Furness Abbey properties in the Langdales east of Wrynose Pass with other of the abbey’s properties in Eskdale west of Hardknott Pass.  Maggie considers the monasteries to have been significant users of packhorses for trade.

Norman Nicholson, another Lakeland poet, confirms that this route was likely unnavigable by more modern conveyances until relatively recently when he said of the route, “I first went in 1929.  Above Seathwaite, two-thirds up, you did feel you were getting something about as remote as Iceland.  The road didn’t go beyond Cockley Beck then – [Hardknott and Wrynose] passes were just wild tracks – and there wasn’t much of a surface between Seathwaite and there anyway.” (21)

Cockley Beck Bridge in an 1883 etching by Harry Goodwin (25)

Michael Hartwell in his book An Illustrated Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of the Lake District says about Roman road building at the head of the Duddon:  “The tenaciousness of the Roman engineers who made this road must have been incredible because their technique of driving roads along straight lines came to an abrupt halt after they left Little Langdale.  To be suddenly faced with, and have to negotiate, Wrynose and Hardknott Pass must have set them back on their heels and presented them with seemingly insurmountable problems.  One can imagine them encamped in huddles, trying to work out the easiest and most practical way of pushing a road over terrain which was, to all intents and purposes, unpassable.  But they did it, and when they dropped down in to the flat-bottomed Esk Dale Valley, they could revert to their traditional method of road building.  I’m sure that they would have celebrated with a flagon of local brew.” (22)

Robert Gambles, in his book The Story of the Lakeland Dales, says of the top of the Duddon Valley during the Roman age, “As [the Roman legionary] pounded out the miles of Highway Ten between Ambleside and Ravenglass, his route from Wrynose summit to Hardknott Fort ran alongside or within sight of the infant Duddon, a spectacular but arduous stretch of this short and hazardous road.Along Wrynose Bottom we may follow in his footsteps on the north bank of the river.We cross the river where he crossed it – first about a mile or so from the Three-shire Stone, a second time just beyond Gaitscale Close, and finally at Cockley Beck Bridge.Here the Roman road parts company with the Duddon as it swings in its steep zig-zags up to Hardknott Pass.Except for short distances where it coincides with the line of the modern road, the Roman highway is now only a somewhat boggy footpath.” (23)

Michael Hartwell says in his packhorse bridge book, “Although Cockley Beck Bridge is not a true packhorse bridge, it is almost certain that a packhorse bridge did originally span the river at this point, for this is the main link between the Langdales and Esk Dale.”  (24)  Cockley Beck Bridge crosses Mosedale Beck, a tributary of the Duddon.

The 1842 book Rambles by Rivers says about Wrynose Pass, “When only pack-horses were used for the conveyance of goods in these parts, [Wrynose Pass] was the main road from Kendal to Whitehaven, a fact the stranger who sees it finds some difficulty crediting, so rough and acclivitous is it.” (26)  Kendal and Whitehaven were significant towns in their day, with Kendal being the center of the wool and other trades and Whitehaven being an international port on the Irish Sea. 

Robert Gambles in his book Echoes of Old Lakeland says that tobacco and spices were carried by packhorses from Whitehaven to Kendal for the snuff industry.  (27)  Paul Hindle, in his book Roads and Tracks of the Lake District, expands on this: “One rather curious industry has specific routes associated with it, and that is the manufacture of snuff, which became important in the eighteenth century.  The tobacco was imported at Whitehaven, and two ‘snuff pack roads’ have been identified…. The second went further south through Egremont and Gosforth, over the Hard Knott and Wrynose Passes to Ambleside [to] the centre of the industry at Kendal….  These routes were never used solely for transporting snuff or rather the raw tobacco used in the process.  It is likely that these routes were more widely used for the movement of supplies of illicit spirits from remote western Lakeland to the towns further south and east!” (28)

While much focus is on how packhorses entered and exited the top of the Duddon Valley, there is also evidence that packhorses turned south into the valley after crossing the passes.  For instance, Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “Unlike most other forts in the area, Hardknott does not appear to have attracted a vicus (civilian settlement) around it. The soldiers would therefore have looked to the surrounding settlements, including those in the Duddon Valley, for supplies and services.” (29)  And Gambles in Echoes of Old Lakeland says, “[The Langdale to Broughton-in-Furness packhorse route] linked the farms of the Langdales with the markets at Broughton.  The route followed the main packhorse trail over Wrynose to Cockley Beck where it turned off [to follow] the River Duddon as far as Birks Bridge to take the track to Grassguards, Stonythwaite, Wallowbarrow and the valley routes to Duddon Bridge and Broughton.” (30)

A mine is shown southeast of Cockley Beck Bridge.  This mine was located via a map called ‘Detailed Old Victorian Map 1888-1913.’ (31) This Old Victorian Map says this mine is Cockley Beck Copper Mine, at that time disused.

Birks Bridge as illustrated in Wild Lakeland by MacKenzie MacBride and illustrated by Alfred Heaton Cooper, published 1922-28.  (33)

Coming down the Duddon Valley on the map, we next encounter the packhorse bridge called Birks which crosses the river where it runs through a deep gorge.Birks is considered an authentic packhorse bridge with its narrow width, low parapets, and proximity to known packhorse routes.The name comes from the birch trees in the area.Hartwell says in his packhorse bridges book, “Birks Bridge is a true packhorse bridge and was a busy link between the Duddon Valley and Esk Dale.It is highly probable that the footpath which skirts around Harter Fell [west of Birks Bridge], and goes over to Boot in Esk Dale, is the original route used by the packhorses of old.” (32)This route isn’t shown on the Old Victorian Map so isn’t shown on the map here, unless it is referring to the route described below that goes to Boot north of Ulpha.

According to David Ross, editor of the Britain Express website, “The narrowness of [Birks Bridge] has caused some problems over time; according to a local tale there was a resident of Birks who used to go into the Newfield Inn in Seathwaite for drink or three, and when he tried to drive his horse and cart home after too much to drink he would regularly become stuck on the bridge.”  (34)  In a nod to the Romantic perspective and the Inspiration theme, Hunter Davies, in his book A Walk Around the Lakes, says “"the hump-back stone bridge seems itself to be a work of nature, blending and melding so well with the rocks either side." (35) 

Two of the Woods west of Birks Bridge shown on the Old Victorian Map are Little Coppice and Long Coppice.  Furness Iron says, “Some woodlands were being coppiced by at least the 14th century, both for charcoal burning and for the full range of other woodland industries” (36)  Furness Iron goes on to say, “The [Duddon Blast Furnace] used charcoal as fuel, and the need for  increasing quantities led to the management of the Duddon woods on a coppice rotation system. The coppice poles were cut on a cycle of between 14 and 25 years and were cut to length, stacked, covered with turves [plural of turf] and burnt on platforms constructed in the woods.” (37)

Next down the valley we come to the Seathwaite area.  Seathwaite Bridge crosses Tarn Beck.  According to the well-regarded website Old Cumbria Gazetteer, this bridge has been widened and dates from the 18th century. (38)  It is a listed (historic) bridge but hasn’t been identified, yet, as a packhorse bridge.  It is shown on the Old Victorian Map as being on a foot path connecting the upper Duddon Valley and its packhorse features with the Walna Scar Road, a known packhorse route to slate and other quarries.  The many mines and quarries around Seathwaite Tarn are shown on the Old Victorian Map as being accessed by paths connecting west to the upper Duddon Valley or south to the Walna Scar Road.

Southeast of Seathwaite Tarn we see a marker for peat.  This area near Longhouse Close is where Ring Cairns to Reservoirs found peat tracks, and the Old Victorian Map shows peat moss. (39) There is also a feature on the Old Victorian Map called Stallion Head, perhaps harkening back to the use of horses or ponies as power to harvest the local resource.

Tarnbeck Black Prince was born in the Duddon Valley. Copyright and courtesy Ruth Eastwood

Here we also see the only modern day connection to the Fell Pony breed. The Tarnbeck stud began at Tongue House below Seathwaite Tarn and was named for the beck that flowed past. The Tarnbeck stud was later moved further south in the Furness region. While the Tarnbeck stud is the only one to have a lasting impact, prior to 1981 the ‘Duddon Valley’ prefix was registered to Mr. T.A. Ellwood. However, no ponies that carried that prefix contributed to our modern population. A Fell Pony stud with the prefix Dunnerdale that produced ponies in the 1960s and 1970s was not located in the Duddon Valley.

Near to the location of the Tarnbeck stud is another indication of the working of peat.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs shows an aerial photo of an old peat track in this area.

In Seathwaite, the largest settlement in the Duddon Valley, the packhorse-associated features are an inn, a pitstead and a mill.  The inn is still operating and dates from the sixteenth century.  Called the Newfield, it is known in part for its beautiful floor of Walna Scar slate.  The Ring Cairns to Reservoirs project found that a mill for carding wool previously operated on the site of the Newfield.  (40)

Wordsworth once wrote, “Upon the Seathwaite Brook at a small distance from the parsonage, has been erected a mill for spinning yarn; it is a mean and disagreeable object…” (41)  Wordsworth reportedly stayed at the Newfield, so one wonders if this is a different mill than the one mentioned by Ring Cairns to Reservoirs; wouldn’t Wordsworth have mentioned the Newfield by name rather than made reference to the vicarage? 

In 1842, the authors of Rambles on Rivers visited the site of the mill mentioned by Wordsworth and “found it with its roof partly fallen in, its wheel broken; and on trying the door, its hinges rusted from long disuse, gave way.  The machinery, too, though in appearance undisturbed since it was last used, was decayed, the web crumbling at the slightest touch.  Our poet, were he to visit it now, might find new matter for reflection on the changes wrought by the progress of invention, which has rendered this as obsolete as it made unaided hand-labour.” (42) 

Surrounding the Newfield Inn, there are several Woods, so the presence of a pitstead nearby for making charcoal isn’t surprising.  According to Ring Cairns to Reservoirs, “The ‘thwaite’ ending of the name Seathwaite also denotes clearance of woodland in the Norse period.” (43)

The Park Head Road also commences its journey south at Newfield.   This road makes its way to Stephenson Ground in the Lickle Valley.  Kerry Harvey-Piper’s family is the current owner of Stephenson Ground.  She shared the following about “…the old packhorse route which leads from The Newfield in Seathwaite up to the lower slopes of Caw, and then over the saddle of the moor before dropping down to Stephenson Ground.  I know that it’s a very old track, as it’s part of the network that connects Caw quarries with what we call Park Head Road which also connects up the old quarries beneath Stickle Pike.  

“We’ve been told that there was a small settlement along the Park Head Road which acted as a trading point - there are plenty of large piles of stones which are obviously the remains of small buildings/shelters.  I’m not sure how well a parson would have been received there, as we’ve heard anecdotal tales of it being a stopping off point for ‘refreshments’ of many different kinds!!” (44)  Kerry shared the rough location of the trading point which is shown on the map here.  On the Old Victorian Map, a spring is shown at this point, a feature that would surely be an attraction to travelers and those intent on serving them.

Downstream from Seathwaite and across the river, in addition to Woods and pitsteads, we see an indication of peat again.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs found good examples of peat-scales or storage huts at Copt How. 

Hall Bridge in 1890.  It has since been rebuilt.  Its location and appearance beg the question of whether it was originally a packhorse bridge.  Photograph by Herbert Bell (45)

The next settlement down the river is called Hall Dunnerdale.  In this hamlet is Hall Bridge which was rebuilt in 1938.  The bridge connects two roads on either side of the river.  A photograph from 1890 of the previous bridge, included here, sparks the curiosity, when paired with its location, about whether the older bridge was a widened packhorse bridge.

Continuing down the river are several Woods and pitsteads and then quarries and drifts up the fell side. Just upstream from Ulpha, a tributary of the Duddon comes in, Crosby Gill.A track follows the Gill towards Eskdale in the next valley northwest. An 1847 description of the route says, “From Ulpha the road to Eskdale lies over a desolate Moor, abounding in peat. Passing through the village of Crosbythwaite, having in view Hest and Birkby Fells on the left, at the base of which runs a tributary of the Duddon; Birker and Harter Fells on the right.” (46)Two bridges cross Crosby Gill upstream: Crosbythwaite and Woodend. Woodend Bridge is especially intriguing because it has been extended from an original clapper bridge, a style of bridge that Maggie says is a type built during the monastic period. Eskdale would have been a destination from Furness Abbey. In addition, this route could have been used for woolen products and was likely used for iron ore, according to Ring Cairns to Reservoirs.(47)

Closer to Ulpha, Crosby Bridge crosses Crosby Gill.  Its location suggests at one time a packhorse bridge was at this point, if such a bridge is not the current one.  Upstream a short distance is an old corn mill.  Across the river is an area called Kiln Bank, including High, Low, and Far, suggesting there may have been potash kilns in this area. 

Ulpha Bridge over the River Duddon is probably a replacement of a packhorse bridge, according to Maggie.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Ulpha is an old word for wolf.  In Ulpha is Ulpha Bridge over the River Duddon, which Maggie says is probably a replacement of a packhorse bridge, though further study is needed.  Below Ulpha, Holehouse Gill, a tributary of the Duddon, joins the river.  Upstream on the gill is a former bobbin mill, not surprisingly surrounded by Woods.  There is a ford across the gill below the mill.

Bleabeck Bridge was originally a packhorse bridge and then was widened to accommodate coaches.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Slightly farther downriver we see Blea Beck joining the Duddon.  Upstream on Blea Beck is Bleabeck Bridge which allows the route between the mill on Holehouse Gill and a mill on Logan Beck to the south to cross Blea Beck.  Bleabeck Bridge is considered a packhorse bridge.  Maggie says that packhorses crossing Bleabeck Bridge would have been servicing Duddon Furnace (more on this below.) (48)

The Old Cumbria Gazetteer website says the more recent history of this bridge has to do with coaches and railways.  “This bridge carried a long- established rural routeway through the parish of Ulpha.  Between 1844 and 1845, the route was used as a coach link for the railway line then in the course of construction, and intended to pass through Broughton-in Furness to join the Whitehaven and Furness Junction line.  This horse link was indicated in the railway timetables of the period.” (49) 

Farther up Holehouse Gill and north is a former copper mine.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says about this site, “Mining and quarrying in the valley had also developed from small-scale origins. The spoil tips and ruined buildings on the southwestern flank of Hesk Fell are all that now remains of a copper mining industry that was of great economic importance for a short while in the nineteenth century.” (50)

The ruins of Frith Hall from Bleabeck Bridge showing the old packhorse and coach route.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Visible from Bleabeck Bridge are the ruins of Frith Hall which also has packhorse connections.An article in the Kendal newspaper The Mail in 2019 said about Frith Hall, “The hall was built in the 17th Century as a deer hunting lodge for the gentlemen of the Hudleston family of Millom Castle. In the 18th Century it became an inn and in 1730, 17 marriages were held beside the fireside. It was also a hostelry for packhorse teams and their drivers, some of whom would be smuggling brandy, rum, tea, tobacco, soap and other high duty goods illegally imported into Britain via the Isle of Man and Whitehaven. Their cheaply available strong drinks made Frith Hall a lively and at times violent place. A story is told that a man was murdered here and his ghost haunts the ruins.” (51)

On either side of the Duddon in this reach we see a bloomery on the map.  The one to the west is in Forge Wood; the one to the east is in Yewbarrow along Cinder Hill Beck, named perhaps for the production of charcoal in the vicinity.  In Robert Gambles’ book The Story of the Lakeland Dales, he writes, “In the name ‘Forge Wood’ we make our first acquaintance with the small ‘bloomeries’ or smelting hearths of the early years of this industry.  Ulpha Forge was worked in the late 16th and early 17th centuries by the Hudleston family who appear to have become quite prosperous on the proceeds….” (52)  During that period, packhorses would have been a likely mode of transportation for charcoal and ore.  The Ring Cairns to Reservoirs project dates the bloomery at Cinder Beck to the medieval period, also likely to have been ‘powered’ in part by packhorses. (53)

Further south on the west side of the river we see another bloomery at Beckfoot. Maggie has written, “Iron production at Cinder Hill, and at Beckfoot by Logan Beck, carried on in a modest way until the building of a superior charcoal-fired blast furnace at Duddon Bridge in 1736. To this, ore was fetched from a wide area by packhorses.” (54)

Remains of an inn on High Whineray Ground with the remains of a packhorse track sunken in the foreground.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Also in this reach of the Duddon, we see numerous Grounds, with historic links to Furness Abbey and its use of packhorses.Southwest of Frith Hall is Whinfield Ground.On the other side of the river in close proximity to each other are High and Low Whineray Grounds.Maggie explored a route with an improved-though-now-aged surface in the vicinity of High Whineray Ground where there was supposedly once an inn that served the packhorse routes between the various Grounds.

On the east side of the river, Parson’s Road is labeled.  Also known as Priest’s Path, the Ring Cairns to Reservoirs project said, “The two parishes [Ulpha and Seathwaite-with-Dunnerdale] reveal fascinating evidence of the routes used by people to move around the landscape on foot, horseback and in horse-drawn vehicles….  In some cases the route-ways are now seen as little more than well-worn or sunken paths. Others, however, are solid and well-engineered tracks such as the ‘Parsons’ or ‘Priests’ path that winds from the present day Duddon Valley road to the slopes above Stonestar and then on to Broughton Mills.”  (55)  A close look at the Old Victorian Map shows this route leading between the lower-valley area of the Duddon to Pickthall Ground in the Lickle.  The name of the route alone is enough to link it to the monastic period!

The original side of the now widened Beckfoot Bridge.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Logan Beck, another tributary to the River Duddon, comes into the river from the west.A tiny settlement called Beckfoot sits at this confluence.Beckfoot Bridge crosses Logan Beck just upstream of the river.It is considered a packhorse bridge, now widened, carrying the route from north to south.Maggie says that in addition to the remains of a bloomery, there is also an old corn mill in Beckfoot.There was also once a sawmill.

Up Logan Beck from Beckfoot is the tiny settlement of Beckstones, now an outdoor school.  Here we find another bridge and another mill, this time a fulling mill for cleaning wool.  This bridge also carries the north to south route connecting, for instance, Whinfield Ground with Duddon Bridge.  The bridge today may not be the one that existed during the packhorse era.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “Good examples [of fulling mills] can be found at Beckfoot Mill and at Logan Beck. At the height of the woolen industry many corn mills were converted into fulling mills when this became the more lucrative business.”  (56)

Rawfold Bridge has been extended from its original packhorse width, crossing the River Duddon just downstream from Beckfoot and the confluence of the river with Logan Beck.  It connects the important routes descending the valley on either side of the river.  Courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson by her friend Maureen Fleming

Just downstream from the confluence of Logan Beck and the Duddon is Rawfold Bridge. Maggie says, “This magnificent bridge has been extended and links with Beckfoot bridge, which is next to an old water-powered Corn Mill (now renovated), a saw mill and a network of ways serving other purposes.” (57)

The remains of Duddon Furnace which operated on and off for 230 years. This relic of the industrial past of the Duddon Valley is one of the few that merited mention in the World Heritage Site planning documents.   Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Just below Rawfold Bridge are several Woods. The Old Victorian Map shows names for these Woods such as Willy, Harry, Stanley, and Ivenscar, then Sheep Shank and Broadbutts.And then comes the large Furnace Wood that is just north of the most well-known of the Duddon Valley’s industrial relics, Duddon Furnace.It is one of the best-preserved blast furnaces in England.

Duddon Furnace was built beginning in 1737 and operated on and off for 230 years depending on availability of fuel and the labor to make it.  The book Furness Iron says, “Ore for Duddon Furnace… was transported overland from mines in Low Furness to Ireleth on the Duddon Estuary.  From here it was shipped to wharves near Duddon Bridge and then taken by road to the ironworks.” (58)  In many places, that overland and road transportation when carts weren’t possible would have been done by packhorses.

A mill is shown on the map near Duddon Furnace.  The overflow of the headrace (diversion from the river) that fed the furnace fed this adjacent but later bobbin mill.  Also shown on the map is an inn.  Maggie points out that today’s Dower House has connections to packhorses.  Its website states, “The Dower House is a delightful, late Victorian Country House built on the site of a medieval packhorse inn.” (59)  You might expect that with a settlement name like Duddon Bridge that a packhorse bridge might at one time have crossed the river here, but I haven’t found any information about such a bridge.

Robert Gambles in The Story of the Lakeland Dales quotes Wordsworth as saying the Duddon is “the most romantic of our vales.” (60)  Certainly the following oft-quoted stanza from Wordsworth’s Duddon Sonnets reflects the poet’s romantic view of the valley:

I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,

As being past away.-Vain sympathies!

For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,

I see what was, and is, and will abide;

Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;

The Form remains, the Function never dies.

In the World Heritage Site planning documents, the only nod to the Duddon Valley’s industrial past is mentions of Duddon Furnace and locally produced slate.  Yet as we can see from the many research projects cited here, the Duddon Valley has a much richer history than just as an inspiration for poets and other artists and for conservation.  It is a reflection of a great deal of human work that has made not only the valley but the entire Lake District what it is today.  And packhorses, many of whom were the forebears of today’s Fell Ponies, assisted with that work.

---

1.       Furness Iron:  The Physical Remains of the Iron Industry and Related Woodland Industries of Furness and Southern Lakeland, 2013, p. 77

2.       Thorne, James.  Rambles by Rivers:  The Duddon, The Mole, The Adur, Arun, And Wey, The Lea, The Dove.  London:  Charles Knight & Co., Ludgate Street, 1844, p. 28.

3.       Yoshikawa, Saeko.  “A Guide that does not Guide: The Duddon Sonnets as a Guide to the Lakes.”  Paper presented at 42nd Wordsworth Summer Conference held at Ryda1 Hall, Cumbria, UK, on the 11th of August 2013.

4.       Dickinson, Maggie B.  “Bridges of Cumbria County,” Cumbria, September 2010, p. 15-19

5.       Ring Cairns to Reservoirs:  Archaeological Discoveries in the Duddon Valley, Cumbria. (R2R)  Duddon Valley Local History Group, 2009, p. 36

6.       Hindle, Paul.  Roads & Tracks of the Lake District, Cicerone Press, Milnthorpe,  Cumbria, 1998, p. 123

7.       Dickinson, Maggie B.  “Drunk in charge of a packhorse,” Cumbria, November 2016, p. 13-17

8.       Windermere Reflections: Fulling Mills In Easedale, Grasmere, Elterwater, Great Langdale And Graythwaite.  Oxford Archaeology North, 2012, p. 35

9.       R2R, p. 68

10.   Email from Maggie B. Dickinson to Jenifer Morrissey, 4/27/21

11.   Gambles, Robert.  The Story of the Lakeland Dales.  West Sussex:  Phillimore & Co., 1997, p. 79

12.   Furness Iron, p. 11

13.   The locations of mines, quarries and drifts on the map come primarily from Ring Cairns to Reservoirs.

14.   R2R, p. 62-4

15.   R2R, p. 69

16.   R2R, p. 11

17.   Furness Iron, p. 6

18.   R2R, p. 68

19.   R2R, p. 64

20.   Plate from the 1842 book Rambles by Rivers of the headwaters of the Duddon near Wrynose Pass

21.   Pepper, John.  Cockley Beck: A Celebration of Lakeland in Winter.  Dorset:  Element Books, Ltd., 1984, p. 83

22.   Hartwell, Michael.  An Illustrated Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of the Lake District.  Earnest Press, 1994, p. 93

23.   Gambles, p. 73

24.   Hartwell, p. 91

25.   Goodwin, Harry.  “Cockley Beck, on the River Duddon, Cumberland,” published by Swan Sonnenschein and Co, Paternoster Square, London, 1890.  Found at http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk02532.htm

26.   Thorne, p. 12

27.   Gambles, Robert.  Echoes of Old Lakeland.  Carlisle:  Bookcase Books, 2010, p. 151

28.   Hindle, p. 144

29.   R2R, p. 10

30.   Gambles, Echoes, p. 159

31.   Victorian Ordnance Survey 6 inch to 1 mile Old Map (1888-1913) at https://www.archiuk.com/

32.   Hartwell, p. 100

33.   Birks Bridge as illustrated in Wild Lakeland by MacKenzie MacBride and illustrated by Alfred Heaton Cooper, published 1922-28 and found at http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/topics/packbrgf.htm

34.   Ross, David.  “Birks Bridge, Duddon Valley,” at britainexpress.com

35.   Davies, Hunter. A Walk Around the Lakes. Arrow Books, 1989. p. 68. ISBN 0099504804

36.   Furness Iron, p. 6

37.   Furness Iron, p. 12

38.   Old Cumbria Gazetteer re Seathwaite Bridge, http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk10227.htm

39.   R2R, p. 27

40.   R2R, p. 62

41.   Thorne, p.28

42.   Thorne, p. 28

43.   R2R, p. 10

44.   Email from Kerry Harvey-Piper to Jenifer Morrissey, 5/21/21

45.   Hall Bridge in 1890.  Photograph by Herbert Bell.  Found at http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk13011.htm

46.   Johnstone, John.  Sylvan’s Pictorial to the English Lakes, as cited at http://www.pastpresented.ukart.com/eskdale/sylvan.htm

47.   R2R, p. 11

48.   Dickinson, Maggie B.  “What Lies Beneath,” Cumbria, October 2016, p. 19

49.   http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk01089.htm

50.   R2R, p. 13

51.   Mullen, Adrian.  “Walk: Lower Duddon and Frith Hall with John Edmondson,” The Mail, “2/1/19

52.   Gambles, Story of the Lakeland Dales, p. 79

53.   R2R, p.67

54.   Dickinson, What Lies Beneath, p. 18-19

55.   R2R, p. 36-7

56.   R2R, p. 69

57.   Email from Maggie B. Dickinson to Jenifer Morrissey, 4/27/21

58.   Furness Iron, p. 38

59.   http://www.dowerhouse.biz/

60.   Gambles, Story of the Lakeland Dales, p. 73

Using a Scrub Route

It is incredibly flattering when my mare Madie wishes to engage with me during evening checks. It is especially flattering when she does this after I have skipped our training session earlier in the day because it feels like she missed our time together. One night on such an occasion I told her she should walk to the barn with me, and she did, traversing a quarter of a mile and interacting with me along the way, including helping me up a steep hill. Her foal wasn’t too pleased about being second priority!

But at temperatures close to zero (-17 Celsius) one evening, I just wasn’t interested in doing anything but getting done with my checks and back inside. Madie can be very persistent, following me for great distances to convince me to interact, so I needed a strategy to discourage her interest. I laughed at the idea that came to mind.

When I need to distract my mind from my to-do list, I like to listen to sports. This time of year, I enjoy college American football (I don’t enjoy watching as much because violent hits really bother me.) There is a strategy in the game called a scrub route where a player runs downfield with a defender in pursuit, and the offensive player runs close to a fellow player to ‘scrub’ the defender off the pursuit.

In the picture here, you see Madie’s ears; she is requesting interaction. You can also see a trail up the hill to the right. Just after I took this picture, another pony, Honey, appeared at the top of the trail and descended a few strides. Madie is subordinate to Honey. I instantly realized I could scrub Madie off my trail by walking up past Honey and then continuing out of sight because Madie was unlikely to attempt to pass Honey on the hill.

It worked. I was able to walk up and away from the herd with a focus on getting to someplace warm. Sitting in the warmth of my house telling this story, it feels a little unfair to Madie that I scrubbed her, but in the end I know it was not only best for me but it was best for her, too. In the cold I was far from being in an playful state of mind. I look forward to warmer weather next time!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

With a Little Help from Madie

I was laying in bed thinking about my to-do list for the day, and I realized that a pony could help me with one of the items on that list. It had been a long time since I’d asked a pony to help me with ‘work,’ so I quickly got out of bed to put the plan into action.

It all started with a Facebook post a few weeks before by a very accomplished florist/wreath maker in the UK. Each year she advertises beautiful horsehead wreaths for sale. The first time I saw one, I was smitten. This year, when I saw her post, I decided I would buy one as a holiday gift for my pink pony princess friend Jackson. I quickly learned, though, that the florist is so popular that she sells out well in advance. Chagrined, I had to put my thinking cap back on to figure out a holiday gift for Jackson.

I just couldn’t get the idea of a horsehead wreath out of my mind, though. I used to have a wreath-making business back in Colorado; I regularly used ponies to bring supplies in from the woods. So I began wondering if I could make a horsehead wreath for Jackson myself. After I was able to find a frame, I got permission to harvest greens here on the ranch, so it was beginning to seem possible. I found suitable greens not far away, so I was even more encouraged, though the ones here are cedar so are different from the subalpine fir greens I used in Colorado.

Next was to put together the pony portion of the chore. I pulled out two plasticized nylon bags that I had purchased several years ago for a different pony packing job. They are connected together at one point at the top and are intended to be used for light but bulky loads. Because of the nature of the jobs I wanted to do with them, I didn’t need pack saddles; I could just lay them across my pony’s back and keep them in place by their shape and weight.

My decision about which pony to use was an easy one. Willowtrail Spring Maiden, called Madie, has daily been asking to engage with me, and usually I just mount her, thank her, and dismount. This time, though, I would be asking her to pack in the greens. About five years ago, I had worked with her for a couple of weeks in preparation for a packing job, so I was confident that she would be okay with the idea. She just had never dealt with those particular bags. So the first thing I did was take the bags to her and see if she would quickly accept them slung over her back. She did, so next I harvested the quantity of greens I thought I would need, filling the bags as I harvested.

I had strategically chosen the harvesting location to be close to the pony pasture, so that Madie would be familiar with the terrain, if not the particular work. Madie was at the barn with the rest of the herd when it was time to go get the greens. I haltered Madie, and with her son King following, I led her on a half mile walk to where I had left the bags of greens. One of the many unknowns of this outing was how well four-month-old King would follow his mother and how he would react to his mother carrying the bags. I quickly found out that he was more of a challenge that I had anticipated, but in a good way! He not only willingly followed us but was very curious and constantly trying to pull on the bags. It was mostly a challenge when I was trying to make sure Madie was comfortable with how the loaded bags felt on her body while King was tugging on them. We took it slow at the start and then were able to walk at a good Fell Pony speed to where we left the bags. I was thrilled with both of them!

Making a ‘wreath’ in the shape of a horsehead instead of a circle or garland was a new experience. It was also a creative challenge to figure out what native materials to use for mane and forelock. Small Ponderosa Pine cones were the obvious choice for eyes, though! Because Jackson is a fan of the movie Frozen, blue and pink ribbons were important adornments for her wreath. The one that hangs outside my door, though, is au naturel. Thank you, Madie, for making these holiday decorations possible!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Barn Work

I love this time of year. My chore load has transitioned away from foal care. My mares and youngstock are on their hill pasture continuously. The herd meets me at the barn in the morning. And now that the temperatures have dropped and flies are no longer distractions, we are all happier and able to engage more productively.

On a recent edition of Warwick Schiller’s podcast Journey On, I listened to Warwick interviewing Carolyn Resnick, creator of the Water Hole Ritual and author of Naked Liberty. After listening to the podcast, I appreciated Carolyn’s perspective about horses even more than I did before, in part because she shared that she has maintained the perspective of a child throughout her long life. Every time she approaches an equine, she does it with no expectations and lots of observation. She shared a story about her first horse whom she began with at three years old. Strawberry I think was its name, and it was an aged babysitter but also with enough go to keep her interested. He would do anything for her and was as near to perfect as a horse could be for a person her age. Later she met an American Saddlebred stallion whom she was told to stay away from by his handler because he was so mean. She spent time sitting outside his stall, and in time he became less mean and more willing to engage, teaching her that there’s a Strawberry inside every horse. She concluded this part of her story by saying that bringing out the Strawberry in every horse she meets is always her goal. This time of year for me is magical because it’s about continuing the process of bringing out the Strawberry in each of my ponies.

Given Carolyn’s focus on liberty work, I was surprised to hear her say that all the best horsemen she knew had their horses standing tied during the process of developing them. She said it without judgment, and I expected to hear her then say something like, “But I choose to do things differently.” But instead she said that standing tied is indeed an important part of the process. The reason? It’s the only time that equines get to stand around doing nothing with tack on. It’s a chance for them to get used to having things on their bodies without other things going on. It’s a chance for them to get comfortable with that before more is asked of them. Standing tied is a part of this time of year with my ponies. I think it’s an important step in mentally conditioning my ponies for eventual work, a beginning step in instilling a working mindset in them. (For more on working mindset, click here.)

Carolyn and Warwick talked about the dangers of “trainer’s mind.” They mean we can have our own agenda and often forget to see what state of mind and body our equine is in. Another of Warwick’s guests was a very accomplished dressage rider. She has staff at her barn, and people often think they are there to do the ‘barn work’ of brushing, picking feet, leading from place to place, and tacking up. But she said she would rather do all that work and have her staff do the riding because it was doing that ‘barn work’ that let her see where the equine was at mentally and physically so she could set them up for success under saddle when that time came. ‘Barn work’ is very important to me for exactly the reasons this woman stated. Before I can have peace in my day, I need to know that my ponies are well. Meeting them at the barn in the morning, witnessing their behavior and interactions, and handling them briefly provides me the information I need to go forth into my non-pony day. This time of year with its beautiful weather is ideal for long ‘barn work’ sessions that my ponies seem to look forward to as much as I do.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can find similar stories in my book The Partnered Pony: What’s Possible, Practical, and Powerful with Small Equines, available by clicking here or on the book cover.

Thankful 2021

There is nothing like a little snow
Falling from the sky,
And then a flock more than seventy strong
Of wild turkeys walking by,

To put me in a festive mind
And focus me again on gratitude.
For me this November holiday
Is about so much more than party food.

In these past few years, no one has been spared
From turmoil or disruption.
We’ve all been faced with our unique type
Of a two-year life reproduction.

Hopefully some of life’s bigger truths
Have helped you endure the upsets.
For me learning that miracles can follow tragedy
Has helped me navigate my collection of resets.

For my ponies and me it’s hard to imagine
How we could have landed in a better place.
For them a fell-like hill for pasture.
For me a log cabin for home base.

Seeing my ponies on a hill
Similar to where their ancestors roamed
Is giving me new insights
And makes me incredulous how we’ve been re-homed.

It’s hard to believe another year has passed –
It’s been two since we arrived here.
We have all settled well into new routines
And love that to each other we are near.

That another year has passed by us
Is evidenced by new members of my herd,
They being the result of my match-making
Done so long ago that memory has blurred!

My heart pony has had a daughter
Who is vying for top spot in my heart.
Another new daughter and a year old
Have given a new generation a good start.

Meanwhile the older ponies are gifts
For their steadfast presence and rapport.
Their desires to connect each day with me
Fill me with appreciation to my core.

I am grateful for two local horsewomen,
Like-minded but in different ways,
That enrich my life with ponies
By delighting with a hug or turn of phrase.

I’m grateful for friends much further away
Who touch me with their pony-filled communications.
Usually they give inspiration to me
Through their well-thought recommendations.

I am grateful for the love of family.
My own visited this summer here.
On this place, the family I live amongst
Has welcomed me with incredible cheer.

I am grateful for a recent opportunity
To be a guest on the Fell Pony podcast.
Having my two decades of work asked about
Made the interview go by so fast!

I am grateful for how my other interests
So often circle back to the ponies I love.
It’s a sign I’ve landed where I need to be,
A life that fits me like a glove.

So this Thanksgiving I am grateful
For this amazing place that we are living.
Its abounding beauty and diversity
Are healing gifts that keep on giving.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Descending the Hill

Red arrow points to a pony descending the hill. I first saw them on the flat just above there.

When I got to the barn, my Fell Pony mare herd, except for three, were already there. I could see the missing three high on the hill, watching me spread a little hay and begin to prepare vitamin buckets. I was hoping they would come in on their own because I had sprained an ankle a few days before so I wasn’t looking forward to climbing after them. Then they began descending.

These three ponies come naturally to living on the hill. Drybarrows Calista, the oldest at four years, was born on a fell in Cumbria. Our hill is similar in slope and roughness to a fell, but more treed than most fells. And our climate is considerably drier. Calista’s daughter Willowtrail Mayflower, at five months old, has obviously been following her mom up the hill ever since Calista decided to lead her there. Willowtrail Aimee was also born here and at a year old has been following the herd up the hill - if not leading them - for most of her life.

I took a few minutes to watch these ponies descend the hill and even thought to video it. You can watch the video by clicking here. Patience was required because they took their time, stopping occasionally, which I admit I too do to admire the view and look for the best route down. It was interesting to note that they walked most of it, trotted some, and didn’t break into a canter until they were on lower, less rough ground. It was also notable that Aimee made sure Mayflower wasn’t left too far behind.

After these three young ponies came in and I finished my chores, I realized one of my dogs was not with us. It turned out she had found a dead deer in the pony pasture. Later I learned the deer had been killed by a mountain lion the day before. I wonder if the ponies watched the action. Mostly, though, I’m thankful they are all safe. And I feel justified again for foaling my mares in secure pens rather than out on the hill. My choice is different than many hill breeders in the homeland of our breed, but I don’t think they have the predators we do.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can read more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Morning Laughter

Mayflower tucked between two friends!

Early in the day, I had seen the mares come into the barn from the hill. Normally they wait there for me to arrive, but by the time I got there this time they weren’t there anymore. I spread their hay, and they still didn’t arrive, so apparently they weren’t close. Before taking a walk to find them, I walked to the stallion pen and fed Asi. On the walk back to the mare paddock I noticed that the mares had decided to come in. The four oldest mares came first and entered the paddock and started working on the hay I had spread. Then I saw yearling Aimee and mare Calista and her foal Mayflower running in. Rather than come into the paddock, though, they went to the waterer on the outside of the paddock.

I completed a short chore, and I saw Aimee come in, but I didn’t see Calista and Mayflower come in. I went to close the gate, pondering a walk to go look for Calista and Mayflower, then Calista appeared and passed me and went in. But where was her baby Mayflower? I started calling as I pulled the gate shut, my anxiety rising as I considered what might have happened to my young foal. As I turned around for one last look at the mares in the paddock before going out to search, I saw Mayflower looking at me from the lineup of mares, as if to say ‘here I am!’ I started laughing really hard. After I acknowledged Mayflower, she turned around and went back to eating hay and I laughed even harder.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

There are more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Pony Moments Summer 2021

I am so lucky to spend so much time with my ponies. They bring so many smiles to my face. Here are a few short examples from the past few months.

We had a moister summer than last, so my stallion’s grazing paddock lasted him most of the season. He stood at the gate in the morning waiting for me to open it and enjoyed his run down and into the ravine and up the other side before settling into grazing. Each day, though, when he heard me call, he willingly reversed the process, running down into the ravine and then back up into his paddock to meet me. I was so thankful!

I had two mares foal late in the summer. I appreciated their cooperation with my housing choices for them. Prior to foaling I was bringing Rose into a shed during the day to accustom her to the arrangement, then returning her to the herd for the night. Many mornings before she foaled, she would be at the shed when I came out, waiting for me to put her in. After Madie and Rose foaled, I put them out to graze during the day then in at night. These mares and their foals have a very large and varied pasture to graze, yet they reliably show up at dusk to be put in. I sleep better knowing they are in when the coyotes begin to howl nearby.

My two mares that did not have foals this year have also made me smile daily. Matty and Honey are out all night to graze, but every morning they are at the barn awaiting me when I arrive to close them in for the day. I keep them in so the foals can get used to the terrain of the pasture before dealing with the larger herd dynamics. Matty and Honey could make other choices, and they don’t. I’m so thankful.

One night I got home after dark. All of my ponies were in need of attention. Some needed to be fed where they were housed for the night and others needed to be let out to graze until morning. The adults were most interested in getting their feeding needs met, but the foals showed a different priority. Each of them - Mayflower, King, and Lettie – made a point of approaching and acknowledging me before following their mothers. They warmed my heart.

During fly season, I was regularly spraying the ponies who were in paddocks with an all-natural repellent. I have learned over the years that fly spray has at least three sensory associations that need to be established in my ponies for them to accept being sprayed: smell, feel, and sound (click here to read a story about those discoveries!) This time I was surprised, though, by how those sensory associations had already been learned by my foals. Both King at a few weeks old and Mayflower at a few months old stepped between their mothers and me to be sprayed. They had apparently already learned the relief associated with the spray and wanted to be first in line!

Another night, I also returned home after dark. As I stepped out of the car, I heard a call from the foaling shed nearby. Madie’s voice had a different quality to it, so I wondered what she was concerned about. Then I heard the pasture gate rattle. Ha! I had set a tub of hay outside the gate to give to Madie before I went to bed. She was letting me know that herd mates Matty and Honey had found the tub despite having an entire pasture to graze on and were reaching through the fence eating her evening meal. Since then I’ve put Madie’s tub farther from the gate!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Of Course They Did!

Lettie greets my visitor

When my visitor arrived, just three of my ten Fell Ponies were in the corrals. Fortunately, my visitor was interested in helping with chores, so we busied ourselves with them. All the while, though, I kept my eyes peeled for the rest of the herd because I wanted my visitor to meet all of them. Soon, Madie and her foal King came into view on the hill, and my visitor exclaimed appreciation as King posed appropriately regally on a steep slope. Then I saw a three-some high on the hill watching us and listening as we talked while preparing vitamin buckets. I was not looking forward to climbing up to bring them in, and my visitor wasn’t able to climb anyway, so I just shrugged off my desire to introduce those three.

We gave buckets to my stallion and the two mares that were in. When we were done, I looked up on the hill, where I saw that the three-some was starting to move. I pointed them out to my visitor then over the next two minutes we were treated to a display of Fell Pony beauty. These three navigated the steep terrain with manes and tails flowing, trotting then galloping toward the barn as they reached flatter ground. I opened the gate and let them into the corrals, thinking about a comment that has been made more than once about my ponies and me. It seemed to apply to my wondering if these three would come in on their own: ‘Of course they did!’

My visitor had now met all my ponies except for the newest foal and her mother. I told my visitor that I didn’t know where they were, so it looked like we wouldn’t get to see them. And then, here they came, up out of the ravine towards the barn, where Rose and Lettie cordially greeted my visitor.. ‘Of course they did!’

I introduced the three hill ponies to my visitor as we gave them their vitamin buckets. One of the three was yearling Aimee. It didn’t take long before my visitor was petting Aimee and scratching her in her favorite places. Almost sheepishly, my visitor turned to me and said, “I like Aimee best.” I don’t what Aimee does to elicit such admiration from visitors, but this visitor joined most of the others I’ve had this year in placing Aimee at the top of the list. ‘Of course they did!’

Visitors are a relatively rare happening here. So I always learn a lot watching how my ponies react to visitors and my visitors react to them. Often my ponies humble me, and this time was no different. ‘Of course they did!’

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Madie, Where's Your Baby?!!!

I laughed when I saw this - King in the wrong pen with his mother on the outside!

I had company for dinner and had to excuse myself right at dark to go bring in my mares and their foals. I was thankful when I stepped out the door and one of the mares called out a greeting. She was usually close at that time of night, so I was glad the pattern had repeated itself on a night when I was later doing this chore than I should have been.

I grabbed a halter and let myself through the pasture gate, and Madie came to greet me. After exchanging hellos, she followed me into her pen where I had put out hay for her. Then I looked around and realized her foal King was nowhere in sight. I said quickly, more than once, “Madie, where’s your baby?!!!”

I hurriedly put a halter on her, and we went back out into the pasture in the direction from which I had seen her come. Failing light is far from ideal when looking for black ponies, especially against a treed background. Eventually, though, I saw the second mare Rose appearing from the ravine, and my relief was abundant when I saw her with two foals, one of which was King.

I put Madie back in her pen, thinking King would follow her in, but I had more work to do. He was more interested in following Rose and her foal Lettie. I haltered Rose and led her into her pen, and eventually Lettie followed; she too seemed interested in hanging out with her brother. I shut the gate of that pen quickly because I knew from the previous day that King would follow Rose and Lettie into their pen if I let him, as the photo here shows. When King realized he was alone, he finally decided to join his mother in their pen, and I shut the gate for the night. But I had quite a story to tell my dinner guests when I returned to them!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

There are more stories about my life with Fell Ponies in What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Unexpected Glue

The younger herd!

My seven Fell Pony mares all were running together, spending nights on the hill and days in the paddocks where I can check them over and manage their caloric intake. They have delighted me by coming into the paddocks each morning, awaiting my arrival and morning greeting. Then the herd split in two, with half coming in and the other half staying out so that I had to go out searching for them. I was surprised by the glue that had kept them together and that I had removed.

The herd that has continued to come into the paddocks is the older three mares. The herd that has been expressing their independence is the three youngest: four-year-old Calista, her foal Mayflower, and yearling Aimee.

Herd dynamics always fascinate me. So when the mare herd split in two, I was curious what had changed. I knew I had made a change in the herd, separating Madie for part days in preparation for foaling. When she foaled, I removed her from the mare herd entirely to give she and her foal a chance to bond and then get used to life on the hill without pressure from more dominant ponies.

Madie ended up being the unexpected glue in the herd. Madie likes to be in the company of the older mares who are close in age to her. Aimee likes to be in the company of her mother. With Madie in the herd, these preferences kept the herd together because Calista didn’t want to be alone. With Madie removed, Aimee no longer had incentive to stay with the older mares, and Calista didn’t either with Aimee joining her band. So interesting! Recombining the herd is going to be fascinating when the time comes!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

If you enjoyed this story, you can find more like it in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Snakes in the Morning

Rose in her foaling pen before I put boards around the base to keep her foal in and canines (and maybe snakes?) out

The first snake encounter of the day was when I was walking my pregnant Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose from the barn to her foaling pen for the day. We walked down into a ravine, and as we descended, I was watching for snakes, when I saw one just in front of me. Before I could stop, Rose had stepped on it. But because I stopped, she did too, on the snake. Well-mannered pony except in this case! I quickly asked her to move ahead then I turned around to see what we had just passed over. It was a baby snake, and it was hissing at us and appeared to be injured, so I went off in search of a rock to put it out of its misery. When we returned, the foot-long youngster was slithering off, and I confirmed that it was a harmless bull snake, so I tossed my rock aside and willed my heart to quit beating so quickly.

A few minutes later, as I was settling Rose into her pen, I heard my young dog Ace barking insistently. This is the same dog that was bit by a rattlesnake a few weeks before. When I stepped around the shed to see where he was, I saw he was barking at a spot on the ground, with my other dog doing an approach-and-retreat dance I’d seen her use at other times this summer around snakes. For herding dogs, these two do amazing imitations of pointers! I quickly grabbed a pitchfork and yelled at the dogs to keep their distance and approached them quickly but cautiously. I scanned the ground where they were pointing, and I couldn’t see anything. Then I drug the pitchfork across the area the dogs were pointing at, and something silver moved and both dogs jumped. It was a snake skin! Once again I willed my heart to quit beating so quickly while smiling at the harmless outcome of our collective excitement.

The previous day I was emerging from a bad case of heat exhaustion, my second of the summer after not having any cases for years. In addition, I had been pondering the news reports from earlier in the week of the just-released report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. The summary seems to be that the climate will be getting hotter and more unpredictable quickly. The two summers I have been here in South Dakota have been hotter than normal, but I can’t take solace from that statistical perspective because these hot days may be our new normal. So I’ve been asking myself how my stewardship of my ponies needs to be adjusted.

At first I was thinking about it from the ponies’ perspective. What do they need that they don’t already have? The good news is that they seem to be doing pretty well so far, making use of sheds and barns to stay out of the sun during the day, availing themselves of cooling breezes, and doing most of their grazing at night. After my heat exhaustion, I then had to ask, what do I need to do differently? Immediately what came to mind is the timing of my breeding and foaling season and the workload they require. In Colorado I hadn’t ever been constrained by weather with regard to breeding and foaling, but I know one breeder elsewhere that has timed foaling for the dead of winter because of their climate. In the face of the hot days I’ve experienced this summer and last, and maybe hotter ones in the future, I will probably have to move my breeding and foaling to early spring and late fall so I don’t have a workload during weather I can’t handle.

Warmer summers may mean a longer snake season, too. I lived without snakes for seventeen years when I was in Colorado at 9,000 feet above sea level, so I haven’t been used to constraining my life because of them. And the long cool season here when they aren’t out lulls me to complacency for many months. Having Ace bit each year of his life so far by rattlesnakes, though, has established a pattern that I can’t ignore. I know the snakes aren’t necessarily aggressive; I remember watching one of my ducks once step on a rattlesnake with no adverse consequences (except for the snake getting quickly relocated out of the barnyard!) Nonetheless, I will be evaluating how my management of my ponies may need to change to keep us all safe from snake bites and, more importantly, how to minimize my anxiety about them. I wonder what other aspects of our new climate normal will require me to rethink my stewardship of my ponies.

A few days before my snakes-in-the-morning, a friend let me know about a rattlesnake awareness class she was taking her dog to. My neighbor Bruce laughed when I told him about it, saying I was getting my awareness through on-the-job training! I am just thankful that my dogs are being cautious and letting me know when they have found something serpent-like, even if it’s just a skin!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021