There’s a unique beauty to the Calder Valley when it's raining. The greens become richer, the stone walls darker, and the atmosphere takes on a moody, contemplative quality. My recent walk, a loop starting from home in Sowerby Bridge and leading through Boulderclough and Mytholmroyd before returning along the Route 66 cycleway, offered a perfect, if soggy, opportunity to experience this.
The Murder Stone: A Dark Tale on a Pleasant Path
The Route 66 cycleway, is a well-loved trail for cyclists and walkers alike. As you pass through the hamlet of Brearley, just south of the railway bridge, you encounter a fascinating and rather macabre piece of local history: the memorial to William Deighton.
The "murder stone," as it's known, is a solemn reminder of a brutal crime. The memorial commemorates William Deighton, a tax inspector who was killed in Halifax while investigating the notorious coin counterfeiter "King" David Hartley and his gang. The stone, with its weathered, skeletal carving and a fragment of text, stands as a chilling artifact of a time when the law in this part of Yorkshire was a dangerous business. The photographs capture the stone in its atmospheric setting, nestled in the long grass beside the path, a quiet and unexpected monument to a violent past.
The path is part of the Route 66 cycleway (bridleway), with the railway bridge seen at the top of the picture and the green metal wall.
Underneath the skeletal artwork reads the following: A full and true account of a barborous, bloody, and inhuman murder. There is further artwork below this writing.
A Shelter, and a Soaking
Carrying on my walk past the former chapel, now converted into apartments, and through the heart of Brearley, the skies opened up. The rain, which had been threatening all morning, finally began to pour. Seeking shelter, I ducked under the arch of the Wheatley Royd Farm Bridge. It was a temporary reprieve, a dry spot from which I could watch the rain stream down the stone walls of the bridge and form rivulets on the path. The view from under the bridge, a framed shot of the lush, wet greenery beyond, was a beautiful moment of calm.
However, after nearly 30 minutes of waiting, with my weather app stubbornly refusing to offer any hope of a quick clearing, I conceded defeat. The path ahead called, and there was nothing for it but to embrace the inevitable soaking.
The images from the walk, from the striking memorial to the moody, rain-soaked landscapes of the Calder Valley, tell the story of the day perfectly. They capture the unique blend of history, nature, and unexpected weather that makes walking in West Yorkshire such a rewarding experience, even when you end up soaked to the skin.
