Lost to the Trees: Unearthing History in Jumble Hole Clough

There’s a unique feeling that comes from stumbling upon a forgotten corner of history, a place where nature has begun to reclaim what was once a bustling part of human life. On May 4, 2022, I had one of those moments while walking through Jumble Hole, a wooded valley that meanders down from Blackshaw Head toward Eastwood, tucked between Hebden Bridge and Todmorden.

The valley is carved by the Jumble Hole Clough, a waterway historically known as Blackshaw Clough. This stream is more than just a scenic feature; it's a boundary steeped in history, traditionally marking the line between the counties of Yorkshire and Lancashire. More importantly, it was the lifeblood of a small, industrious community. Its waters once powered several mills, and scattered dwellings lined its banks, housing the people who worked and lived there. The stream even had a spiritual significance, used for baptisms by the nearby Nazebottom Baptist Church.

As I followed a path alongside the water, I passed over an old stone bridge, its arch gracefully spanning the clough. The sound of the water cascading over the rocks and a small waterfall was a peaceful soundtrack to the green, moss-covered landscape. But my eyes were drawn away from the rushing water and towards the hillside. Tucked into the lush greenery, I saw the stone remains of a building, a silent witness to a time gone by.

I had to investigate. Pushing through the undergrowth, I found myself standing before the ruins of what was once a home. The most striking feature was a stone fireplace, still standing strong despite the roof and walls having long since collapsed. Covered in a thick layer of green moss and surrounded by new growth, it felt like a monument to a lost world. The fireplace, once the warm heart of a home, now stands open to the elements, a somber reminder of a community that faded into history.

Exploring Jumble Hole Clough is like stepping back in time. It’s a place where the past isn't just a story in a book; it’s a tangible presence, waiting to be rediscovered by those who take the time to wander off the beaten path. These forgotten ruins and stone bridges serve as a powerful link between the valley’s industrial past and its wild, beautiful present.

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Inside the abandoned dwelling I found. This artwork is based on
a photo that can be seen below.

Jumble Hole Clough.

Jumble Hole Clough, the abandoned dwelling is just to the right
of the picture.

Another artwork of the inside of the abandoned dwelling.

The abandoned dwelling, it was the top of the fireplace, just visible
that made me go and take a look around.

Jumble Hole Clough weir.

The photo of the fireplace my artworks are based on.

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A Misty Morning on the Moors: Exploring Eastwood Lane, Blackshaw Head

There's a unique beauty to the Pennine landscape, especially when a gentle mist hangs in the air, softening the edges of the hills and adding an ethereal quality to the surroundings. These photos, taken on a misty May 22nd, 2022, capture just such a day around the top of Eastwood Lane, Blackshaw Head – a truly captivating corner of West Yorkshire.

Our journey begins with glimpses of quintessential country life. The scene is one of quiet solitude, with distant fields stretching out under a muted sky. The lush green of the pastures, bordered by dry stone walls, speaks of a timeless rural existence. A lone tree stands sentinel by the roadside, its branches still hinting at the cooler days of spring, while a hidden cottage peeks out from the trees, a cosy haven tucked into the landscape.

Venturing deeper, we find ourselves on a narrow, winding path – the kind that promises adventure and discovery. Overgrown with vibrant green foliage and sturdy ivy, it feels like stepping into a secret world. The path, likely well-trodden by walkers over generations, invites you to slow down, listen to the rustle of leaves, and breathe in the damp, earthy scent of the woods. It's a reminder of the many hidden routes that crisscross these hills, connecting isolated hamlets and offering breath taking views.

Further on, the landscape opens up to reveal the dramatic contours of the land, showcasing the top of Jumble Hole Clough, near Hebden Bridge. Here, the raw beauty of the moorland is on full display. A small stream meanders through the valley bottom, carving its way through the verdant slopes. The varied shades of green, from the bright, almost fluorescent grass to the deeper, richer hues of the heather-covered ground, create a rich tapestry under the overcast sky. It’s a scene that perfectly encapsulates the rugged yet serene character of the Pennines.

But perhaps the most striking feature of this walk is the imposing presence of Great Rock, Blackshaw Head. Emerging from the rolling moorland, this magnificent rock formation stands like an ancient sentinel, its weathered face hinting at centuries of exposure to the elements. On a misty day like this, its grandeur is amplified, almost appearing to float amidst the swirling fog. It's a landmark that demands attention, a natural sculpture carved by time and weather, and a fantastic focal point for anyone exploring this part of the world.

These images truly capture the essence of a tranquil, yet powerful, landscape. The subtle light and muted colours of a misty day highlight the textures of the land, from the ancient rocks to the soft moss and damp grass. It’s a reminder that even on a seemingly grey day, the British countryside offers an abundance of beauty and opportunities for quiet reflection.

If you ever find yourself near Hebden Bridge, make sure to explore the trails around Eastwood Lane and Blackshaw Head. You might just discover your own hidden gems in the mist.

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Great Rock

Perched dramatically on the edge of Staups Moor, Great Rock isn't just any stone. This imposing natural formation, sculpted from Kinderscout Grit (a rugged form of Millstone Grit), is steeped in local lore. Among the many tales whispered about its origins, one stands out, giving the rock its chilling moniker: Devil's Rock.

Legend has it that the Devil, in a audacious wager with God, attempted to stride across the valley all the way from Stoodley Pike to Great Rock. He failed, of course, but not without leaving a lasting impression. To this day, it's said that his hoof print remains seared into the rock's surface—a testament to his hubris and a permanent scar on the moorland landscape.

The following pictures were taken along Staups Lane before I took the path down to Jumble Hole Clough.

The last picture was taken at the top of Jumble Hole Clough before heading down to find Staups Mill, the purpose of my visit. The stream would have powered the mill and eventually flows in to the River Calder at the valley bottom.

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