Church tower of St Martin Le Grande |
Coney Street |
River Ouse towards Station Road Bridge |
River Ouse towards Bridge Street |
Church tower of St Martin Le Grande |
Coney Street |
River Ouse towards Station Road Bridge |
River Ouse towards Bridge Street |
Walsden Railway Station, nestled amidst the dramatic Pennine landscape, might seem like a quiet outpost today, but its history is a fascinating tapestry woven with tales of Victorian ambition, wartime drama, and modern resurgence. Though now firmly in West Yorkshire, Walsden's railway story began when it was still part of Lancashire, a testament to the ever-shifting administrative boundaries that define our regions.
A Glimpse into the Past: The Original Station (1845-1961)
The very first Walsden station opened its doors in 1845, a product of the burgeoning railway era that connected communities and fuelled industrial growth. For over a century, it served the village, a vital link for passengers and goods. However, the post-war economic austerity of the early 1960s brought about widespread railway closures, and Walsden, sadly, was not spared. In August 1961, the station shut its doors for good, and the physical structures were swiftly demolished, leaving behind only echoes of its past.
Yet, a tangible piece of that original station endures: a sturdy metal footbridge, erected in 1890. This venerable structure, now providing a crucial connection between the platforms of the current station, is a silent witness to a bygone era. It's a poignant reminder that while buildings may fall, some elements, built with Victorian longevity in mind, can transcend generations. The original station itself was located to the west of this footbridge, stretching towards the entrance of the impressive Winterbutlee Tunnel.
A Troubled Crossing and a Wartime Bombing
The original station also featured a level crossing, a common feature of early railways but one that often brought its own dangers. Indeed, Walsden's crossing was, regrettably, the scene of several injuries and even deaths. The removal of this crossing paved the way for the current station's construction, a move that undoubtedly improved safety for both railway users and local residents.
Perhaps one of the most surprising anecdotes from Walsden's railway past is its unfortunate distinction as the only place in the greater Todmorden area to be bombed during the Second World War. While details are scarce in the provided text, this tidbit hints at the far-reaching impact of the conflict, even on seemingly remote Pennine communities.
Adding to the station's ongoing challenges, a stream runs directly underneath the station, close to the iron bridge. This natural feature, while picturesque, has a less charming side effect: during heavy rains, the station and the line are prone to flooding, a persistent battle against the elements for Network Rail and station users alike.
The Rebirth: Walsden's Current Station (1990-Present)
After nearly three decades of dormancy, Walsden Railway Station was reborn. In September 1990, a new station opened its platforms a few metres east of the original site. This resurgence was a testament to the growing recognition of the importance of local rail links, connecting communities and offering sustainable transport options.
Today, Walsden is an unstaffed station, characteristic of many smaller stops on the network. While facilities are limited to small shelters for protection from the notoriously unpredictable Pennine weather, modern conveniences have been introduced. Electronic information boards keep passengers updated, and ticket machines provide easy access to fares.
The station's viability is clear in its passenger figures. In 2017-18, Walsden averaged approximately 2,100 passengers per week, a healthy number for a village station and a strong indicator of its continued value to the community.
Winterbutlee Tunnel: A Feat of Victorian Engineering
No discussion of Walsden Railway Station would be complete without mentioning the impressive Winterbutlee Tunnel. Located to the west of the station, this 279-metre long tunnel is a remarkable feat of Victorian engineering. It was opened by the Manchester & Leeds Railway Company in 1841, a crucial component of the line that completed the connection between Todmorden and Littleborough. The tunnel stands as a permanent monument to the ambition and skill of the railway pioneers who carved routes through the challenging Pennine terrain.
A Photographer's Eye: Capturing Walsden
The provided information also gives us a glimpse into the art of capturing the station. The accompanying pictures, taken on August 27th, 2017, with a Nikon D3300 camera, offer a specific date and equipment detail. This reminds us that beyond the historical facts and figures, these locations are also subjects of contemporary interest, inspiring photographers to document their beauty and utility.
Nestled in the heart of Settle, a charming market town in North Yorkshire, stands a building of quiet dignity and intriguing history: Settle Parish Church, officially known as the Church of the Holy Ascension. While its presence is a familiar landmark for locals and a picturesque addition to the town's landscape for visitors, delving deeper into its past reveals a captivating story, albeit one shrouded in a surprising lack of readily available information.
A Rickman Masterpiece in the Dales
The Church of the Holy Ascension bears the distinctive architectural stamp of Thomas Rickman, a name that resonates with those familiar with ecclesiastical architecture of the early 19th century. Rickman, a Quaker convert and a pioneer in the study of Gothic architecture, is credited with establishing the system of classifying Gothic styles (Norman, Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular) that is still widely used today. His designs, often characterized by their elegant simplicity and adherence to Gothic principles, were a significant departure from the more classical styles prevalent at the time.
The consecration of Settle Parish Church on October 26th, 1838, marked a significant moment for the community. Imagine the scene: the excited congregation, the solemn blessing, and the sense of new beginnings as this impressive edifice took its place as the spiritual heart of Settle. While we lack specific details about the construction process or the local dignitaries involved, the very act of commissioning a church from a prominent architect like Rickman speaks volumes about the aspirations and resources of Settle in the mid-19th century. It suggests a growing population, a thriving community, and a desire for a substantial and aesthetically pleasing place of worship.
An Interior Evolving: The 1998 Remodel
While the exterior of the Church of the Holy Ascension largely retains Rickman's original vision, the interior has seen at least one significant transformation. In 1998, parts of the interior underwent a remodelling. This detail, though brief, sparks curiosity. What aspects were changed? Was it a restoration, an update to modernise facilities, or a reordering of the worship space to better suit contemporary needs? Without further information, it's a tantalizing hint at the church's ongoing journey and its adaptability over time.
Church remodels often reflect shifts in liturgical practice, changes in congregation size, or simply the need for maintenance and improvements. The 1998 work could have involved anything from updating the pews, altering the altar area, improving lighting and heating, or even creating new community spaces within the church. Each such alteration leaves its own layer of history, adding to the rich tapestry of the building's life.
The Enduring Mystery: A Call for Discovery
Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of Settle Parish Church, as highlighted by the original text, is the surprising scarcity of information available online. In an age where digital archives and historical records are increasingly accessible, it's genuinely remarkable that a building of this age and architectural significance remains somewhat of an enigma.
This lack of readily available information creates a compelling opportunity. For local historians, community groups, and indeed, anyone with a passion for architectural heritage, Settle Parish Church presents a genuine treasure hunt. Imagine the stories waiting to be unearthed:
A Call to Action (and Exploration!)
While the challenges of physical distance may prevent some from visiting in person, the mystery surrounding Settle Parish Church serves as a powerful reminder of the value of local historical research. For those fortunate enough to live nearby, a visit to the Church of the Holy Ascension offers a chance to connect directly with its history. A conversation with churchwardens, a browse through local archives, or even just an observant walk around the building could unlock a wealth of untold stories.
In a world saturated with information, the Church of the Holy Ascension in Settle stands as a beautiful testament to architectural heritage, a silent observer of centuries of community life, and a captivating enigma waiting for its full story to be told. It reminds us that sometimes, the most interesting histories are those we have yet to fully uncover.
I've just uploaded a couple of new dashcam videos to my YouTube channel, both featuring a trip along the A6028. This journey takes us from the level crossing at Cross Hills, West Yorkshire, all the way to the outskirts of Colne, Lancashire.
The first video is a short, real-time clip that focuses on the drive through Cross Hills village. It's a quick glimpse of the immediate area around the level crossing, giving you a feel for the local surroundings as we start our adventure.
The second video is where the real magic happens. This is a 4x speed time-lapse of the entire journey from the level crossing right through to Colne. You'll see us pass through charming spots like Glusburn, Cowling, and Laneshawbridge. What makes this particular drive interesting is the lighting: we started in near darkness as dawn was just breaking behind the wagon. So, while the video begins with a distinctly nocturnal feel, the early morning light gradually floods the landscape by the time we reach our destination.
It's a fantastic way to see the transition from night to day and experience the changing scenery of this cross-county route. Let me know what you think of the videos in the comments once you've had a chance to watch them
Stepping off the train at Stocksmoor Station, you immediately feel a sense of stepping back in time. As the fifth stop on the Penistone Line when heading from Huddersfield, it’s a place that truly embodies the term "rural stop." When I visited in May 2016, I was the sole soul on the platform, camera in hand, soaking in the stillness. It’s hard to imagine, given the quiet, that this station actually averages just under 400 passengers a week, based on 2017-18 figures.
Stocksmoor isn't just a quiet halt; it's a survivor. Opened way back on July 1st, 1850, this station has witnessed its fair share of railway history. It’s one of the last remaining stretches of double track on the line, serving as a vital passing loop for trains between here and Shepley. The entire line was converted to single track in 1989, but not before it fought off yet another closure attempt. And speaking of closures, Stocksmoor has been unmanned since 1966, when the first bid to shut down the line was successfully reversed.
In terms of facilities, Stocksmoor is decidedly minimalist. You’ll find step-free access to both platforms, which is always a plus, but don't expect much else. There are no toilets or shops, and shelter from the elements is limited. On my visit, there was no ticket machine, electronic notification board, or even a passenger help point. I do understand, however, that a ticket machine has since been installed, which is a welcome addition.
Despite the lack of modern amenities, or perhaps because of it, Stocksmoor holds a unique charm. It’s a testament to the resilience of smaller railway lines and a reminder of a bygone era of train travel. If you’re ever exploring the Penistone Line, make sure to give Stocksmoor a moment of your time. You might just find yourself, like I did, as its only visitor, enjoying the peaceful solitude of a truly rural station.
Clicking any of the images below should open a link in another window to my Colin Green Photography store on Zazzle.
Get ready to be transported to the enchanting canals and historic piazzas of Italy's most unique city! I'm thrilled to announce my latest YouTube upload: "A Trip to Venice."
This captivating video, approximately 2.5 minutes long, is a curated collection of scenes I captured during my few days exploring Venice at the end of October and beginning of November 2018. From the moment you hit play, you'll glide along the iconic Grand Canal on a mesmerizing boat trip, witnessing the city's grandeur from its watery arteries.
The video also takes you through the bustling and magnificent St. Mark's area, showcasing its architectural wonders and vibrant atmosphere. Beyond the famous landmarks, you'll discover various other short, intimate clips highlighting Venice's charming smaller canals, intricate bridges, and the timeless beauty of its ancient buildings.
Venice, with its enchanting canals and historic architecture, holds an undeniable allure. But in October-November 2018, during my visit, the city offered a stark, firsthand glimpse into its unique challenges. I arrived to find Venice battling what hotel staff informed me was its worst flooding since 1968. My 1-minute, 50-second video, "St Marks Square Flooding," captures various scenes filmed around the iconic square on random days and times during my stay, showcasing the pervasive nature of the acqua alta.
The moment I stepped off the vaporetto, the reality of the situation hit me – literally. I had to wade through waist-high water across St. Mark's Square just to reach my hotel. It was an immediate and unforgettable introduction to Venice's watery embrace. Every single day of my trip, the area was flooded to some degree, a constant reminder of the city's delicate balance with the sea.
What struck me most, beyond the sheer volume of water, was the incredible resilience of the Venetian people. They didn't lament or complain; they simply accepted the flooding as part of their everyday life. I saw locals navigating the submerged streets with a calm pragmatism, adapting their routines to the ever-present water. Their spirit was truly fantastic, a testament to generations of living in harmony with – and at the mercy of – the tides.
Recent news reports have sadly indicated that Venice has experienced even worse flooding since my 2018 visit. My heart goes out to the residents, and I feel desperately sad for the continuous challenges they face. It highlights the urgent need for long-promised flood defences, such as the MOSE project, to finally be completed and become fully effective. One can only hope that these crucial measures will soon provide the protection Venice so desperately needs, allowing its beauty and unique way of life to thrive for generations to come.
My video serves as a small, personal document of a truly impactful experience, a visual diary of a city learning to live with its extraordinary watery landscape.
There's something uniquely captivating about old postcards. More than just a simple message carrier, they offer a tangible link to the p...