14 minute read

Mam Tor – an archaeological Wonder of the Peak

likely to have been broken through at a later stage, perhaps facilitating access to a series of irregular stone pits (yellow in the plan) scattered inside the fort and doubtless postdating its period of use. Those pits have not previously been recorded, and another element of the plan unfamiliar from earlier accounts is a ragged crack (grey in the plan), in places over 25m across, lying open along the north-west side of the hill, wholly outside the fort but threatening to encroach upon it. Here is a reminder that mass-movement, attested most starkly by the big landslips, has not yet done with Mam Tor.

Much of the 5.9ha of land within the hillfort is far from flat, and principal among its features, as portrayed in the new plan, are more than 200 curvilinear platforms (green in the plan), each recessed into the sloping sides of the ridge. Where best preserved, the floors of these platforms now range from about 4m to 10m across.

Some doubtless once carried buildings of some sort, while others may have been made for slighter structures or even to provide patches of level ground for various outdoor activities. At any rate, they are distributed in such density as to seem suggestive of a once-thriving settlement, and what appears to have been a terraced track (red dotted) passes between some of the western platforms.

In the north-east quarter, several platforms were sampled by excavation in the 1960s and numerous artefacts, particularly potsherds, were recovered. At the time, it came as a surprise to learn that many of these items seemed most at home in the Late Bronze Age, though subsequent excavations at other British hillforts have made this seem less remarkable.

Frustratingly, it must not be assumed that artefacts found on the platforms can be used for dating any stage in the construction of the hillfort’s defences, which could well have developed periodically, perhaps culminating in the midst of the Iron Age. An earlier beginning of Mam Tor’s fortification cannot be discounted but some proportion of the platforms could have been made and occupied before the hillfort was conceived, so perhaps belonged to an unenclosed hilltop settlement. As if to corroborate that notion, re-interpretation of one of two narrow trenches opened across the earthworks in 1965-6 has intimated that at least one platform was buried by the building of the rampart.

For the immediate future, the greatest concern for Mam Tor remains the risk of undue deterioration inflicted by its relentless exposure to the boots of those either visiting the hilltop or walking the ridge-route where it passes through the fort. Despite the best efforts of the National Trust as landowners to stem the tide of erosion in the 1990s, the popularity of Mam Tor seems set to mean that this venerable and vulnerable hillfort, a precious archaeological resource, will pay a price through wear and tear (see feature opposite).

Yet both the quality and the complexity of the surface remains perched high on this landmark hill tell us that it deserves better, for such a noble monument surely should be counted among the archaeological Wonders of the Peak.

Footnote: A fuller explanation of the new plan is given in ‘Mam Tor, Derbyshire: new plans outlining hill and fort, internal platforms and all’, by Graeme Guilbert, in Challenging Preconceptions of the European Iron Age ‒ Essays in Honour of Professor John Collis, edited by Wendy Morrison (Archaeopress Publishing, 2022). See review in Bookshelf on p32.

Desire line or unofficial path eroded over the rampart at the east end

Defending Mam Tor

ANNA BADCOCK, SEBASTIAN CHEW, CHRIS LOCKER and PHILLIPA PUSEY-BROOMHEAD report on the measures taken to alleviate visitor pressure on Mam Tor

On the previous pages (pages 4-6) Graeme Guilbert reported on a recent survey at Mam Tor and alluded to erosions problems from visitor pressure at this extremely popular Peak District landmark. The pressure has probably increased since the start of the Covid pandemic when parts of the Peak District National Park experienced very high visitor numbers.

It is wonderful that people are keen to visit important landmarks such as Mam Tor, but high visitor numbers can bring conservation challenges. The National Trust, which manages the site, is working hard and liaising closely with Historic England and the Peak District National Park to address some of the more noticeable areas of erosion.

In the past, the top of the hill has suffered erosion, and this is why there is a pitched stone surface around the summit and the trig point. Despite a good quality flagged path being laid over the whole summit and along the Great Ridge there are still some significant areas of rutting alongside it, as well as other eroded sections and “desire lines” on the ramparts.

Over time these will get worse; in wet conditions the ruts start to channel rainwater which increases the problem. The Bronze Age barrow near the summit has also suffered from erosion as people stand on it to take in the panoramic views.

Temporary fences and signage will be needed to encourage people away from certain routes, to allow the vegetation to recover. So, if you are walking on Mam Tor, please play your part and observe any fences and signage. They are there for good reason and will help to protect this extremely important site into the future.

Caption Maybe the locals were right

ED SIMONS, Associate Professor at the Cultural Heritage Institute, explores the fascinating past of Ingleby’s Anchor Church and concludes that maybe the locals were right

Anchor Church is an important, if secluded, landmark on the banks of the River Trent at Ingleby. It is commonly called a “cave” and most historical descriptions of it, including the Grade II listing description, imply that it is natural and somehow cut by the nearby river.

It has a recorded history dating back to the 13th century, but its present form was often cited as dating from the 18th century and that it was a creation to grace the estate of the Burdett family of nearby Foremarke Hall, which is now the home of Repton Preparatory School.

In 2021 the cave was the subject of archaeological analysis as part of the Rock-Cut Buildings Project, undertaken by the Cultural Heritage Institute of the Royal Agricultural University. This project is the first attempt to investigate habitable, rural rock-cut buildings on a large scale, and to understand their history and archaeology by creating robust typologies and developing techniques and methodologies for understanding their fabric and development. A huge number of sites have been investigated, the biggest concentrations being in the counties of Worcestershire, Staffordshire and

Exterior of Anchor Church

Shropshire, but with important outliers as far away as Cumbria and Kent.

It was clear from the start that there was no natural cave at Anchor Church. The cliffs have remained largely stable since the end of the Ice Age and all the excavations are therefore entirely artificial. This is a rock-cut building, not a cave, and had to be analysed as such. By using simple archaeological techniques adapted from those we use for conventional buildings it is possible to see the phases of development of the site.

The 18th- and 19th-century work is clearly evident; this constitutes the removal of two internal and two external walls, the part blocking of openings with brick and the addition of a chimney and stone and brick fireplace.

But in what structure did these later works take place? These works were an adaptation to, rather than the creation of, a space. Two narrow splayed doorways with channels for door frames and bolt holes survived in the main space, along with a very rustic debased pilaster cap in a former blind arch and the remnants of a tiny arched window.

These features all predate the later work and are very similar to features found in securely dated medieval rock-cut sites elsewhere. In short, if you found the doors, pilaster cap and window in a conventional building, you could with some certainty identify it as broadly Romanesque.

What makes Anchor all the more intriguing however is its history and its name, which means the church of the anchorite. It was remembered as such as early as the 13th century, but there are no records relating to its use at this

If you stay for any length of time at Anchor Church, locals will walk by and tell you: “A hermit used to live here”

date. This is also a site where monasticism was utterly destroyed by the Viking raid of 873 and not re-established until the founding of Repton Priory and Calke Abbey in the 12th century.

The medieval fabric of Anchor Church cannot, therefore, date from a period extending from 873 to the 13th century. This, along with the possible connection with the 9th century Saint and deposed Northumbrian king Hardulph who, according to a 16th-century printed source, had “a celle in (a clyfee) a lytell frome trent”, may suggest an early origin for much of the fabric.

This possible survival of early fabric shouldn’t be a surprise; it is one of a number of similar sites with surviving medieval and even early medieval features and known early histories. These sandstone sites can be surprisingly durable and have something of the quality of preservation found in caves. This is why the Roman Minerva carving of Chester or the great sandstone monastery at Guy’s Cliff near Warwick have survived, unprotected for so many centuries.

The project has identified a number of such sites and some which are even earlier, but Anchor Church remains one of the most beautiful and evocative. It is noticeable that if you stay for any length of time at Anchor Church, locals will walk by and tell you: “A hermit used to live here.” Historians have long suspected this but have not analysed the fabric until now, so it is rewarding to be able to confirm with the logic of archaeological method, that they are perfectly correct.

North Lees Hall

Ruins of the chapel at North Lees A short history of North Lees

STEPHEN MALONEY of the University of Sheffield was a recent student placement with the Stanage & North Lees Heritage Action Group. This is his account of its history ASHLEY TUCK of Wessex Archaeology reveals the results of recent excavations of a former railway brickworks near Mickleover

The North Lees estate at Outseats in Hathersage has captured the imagination of both fervent sightseers and historical film and TV actors alike with its natural beauty and ancient charms.

The estate centres on North Lees Hall and the surrounding farmland in the north of Outseats. It is situated on upland pastures which descend from Stanage Edge, and overlooks the Hope Valley and the village of Hathersage. The second part of the name of North Lees is derived from the Old English “leah”, meaning a field or clearing.

North Lees Hall was built in 1594 by the Jessop family. It features a tall turreted tower unusual in this part of England. It is thought to have provided the inspiration for “Thornfield Hall” in Charlotte Bronte’s 1847 novel Jane Eyre. “Thorn” is an anagram for “north” and “field” equating to “leah”.

It is thought that it was built on the site of an earlier timber hall, and has a history that goes back to England’s early modern period.

The first family to live in North Lees was the legendary Eyre family of the Hope Valley in 1449. The Eyres were devout Roman Catholics and, on the walls of North Lees Hall are engravings of mottos such as vincit qui patitur, which translates as “he conquers who endures”. This may well refer to the persecution that Roman Catholics endured during the Reformation. Indeed, a later resident, Richard Fenton of Doncaster, was an infamous recusant, who lived at North Lees Hall in 1580.

In 1558, the Recusancy Acts passed by Elizabeth I imposed penal sanctions on all Roman Catholics. In 1588, the year of the Spanish Armada, the manor of North Lees was searched by crown officials and Richard Fenton was one of many recusants seized and later imprisoned in London, never to return.

This strong Roman Catholic history is further testified In 1878, the Derbyshire and North Staffordshire extension of the Great Northern Railway opened. A tunnel was needed to the north of Mickleover, a village now part of the western fringes of Derby. The line never lived up to the optimism of its builders and today the tunnel entrances are buried.

Geophysical survey in 2013 by Pre-Construct Geophysics revealed the presence of zones of strong magnetic variation adjacent to the former railway tunnel. It was hoped that these were the remains of structures associated with the construction of the railway.

Thanks to Derby City Council’s archaeological advisors Wessex Archaeology were brought in by Orion Heritage on behalf of their client Bloor Homes, who proposed a residential development in the area. In 2021, my colleague Paula Whittaker led a team of archaeologists to investigate these anomalies. The fieldworkers discovered the remains of seven brick kilns, which correlated strongly with the geophysical results.

Six of these kilns were simple ‘clamp’ kilns, temporary structures that are rebuilt for each firing. They were evidenced by clay surfaces that had been baked by intense heat. The extent of the heat transformation was so great that it could be seen in the buried agricultural soil that had been sealed by the kilns, and also in the undisturbed geology below the soil.

It is thought these kilns at Mickleover were used very few times, most perhaps even only once. We can tell this by the coloured stripes in the kiln surfaces that reflect the layout of the bricks in the kiln. The stacks of bricks were separated by

Plasterwork from North Lees Hall

by the existence of ruins in the grounds of North Lees Hall, which were believed to be an ancient Roman Catholic chapel, called the “trynity chapel”.

Writers on North Lees have speculated that these ruins were built in Hathersage around 1665 and sacked by Protestant mobs in the 1680s. However, evidence would suggest that this is a different chapel, with title deeds in 1615 citing that a “trynity chapel” was part of a conveyance between owners.

The evidence therefore suggests that the chapel at North Lees existed before the 17th century and may well have been used to hold secret Roman Catholic masses by Richard Fenton or others during the Reformation.

This short history of North Lees gives an indication of the fascinating hidden stories that are etched throughout the landscape of the Peak District.

Another brick in the wall at Mickleover

Aerial photograph of the site

gaps which acted as flues to aid the firing of the kiln, which could be seen in the regular stripes of the kiln surfaces.

The final kiln was technologically more complex. It was a ‘Scotch’ or updraught kiln, which was a semi-permanent structure designed to be used repeatedly. Although two different kiln technologies were in use, there is no reason to think that the Scotch kiln replaced the clamp kilns. Both types of kiln were probably in operation at the same time.

It was easier to control the quality of bricks produced by a Scotch kiln and this may have been used for the best bricks. Scotch kilns had walls and fireboxes where fires were set to heat the kiln. This particular Scotch kiln was a large example and had foundation pads for a central wall.

Short-lived brick kilns are sometimes associated with railways and it is likely that these kilns supplied bricks for the construction of the tunnel. The clay for the bricks may have come from the railway cutting leading to the tunnel.

A probable claypit also revealed during the archaeological excavation was not large enough to supply the whole operation but is possible that this claypit was used when the initial supply of clay ran out. It may represent a temporary reoccupation of the brickworks.

After this, the brick making operation may have moved across the road adjacent to Mickleover Station, where a longer lasting brick yard is recorded on many historic maps.

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