BroomField - A Walk Through Time And Place

While researching prehistoric sites in the local area I came across the following abstract from an article written by Debora Moretti and David Williams published in the Yorkshire Archaeological Journal in June 2023 - 

Archaeological excavations west of Broomfield Farm, Whitby, and subsequent radiocarbon dating have provided evidence of a mid-Iron Age settlement comprising up to seven roundhouses. Evidence from the roundhouses, including pottery, suggests the settlement was primarily agricultural with evidence of metal working also present. The settlement has similarities to a Late Iron Age settlement identified in 1999, 500 m to the northwest, and provides firm evidence of prehistoric activity around Whitby which until now has been elusive. A later system of enclosure overlay the settlement.

I have spent years wandering the fields surrounding Broomfield Farm knowing that the area had a long historical association with farming, especially with regards to the abbey and the medieval manor of Whitby Laithes, but I had no idea that these agricultural roots ran so deep. So it was with this newly discovered information that I decided to explore the area afresh.

The Farm

For over two hundred years the Georgian farm house of Broomfield has stood isolated upon the landscape occupying a space between the small village of Stainsacre on it's eastern flank and the town of Whitby two miles to the west. But after years of town planning and expansion the farm now finds it's self on the boundaries of Whitby, with only the farm's track separating it from being completely enveloped by the town. 

First Settlement

In 1999 a new water treatment plant was built on a site adjacent to Broomfield Farm. This was a huge project for the town that also included a new pump station at Dock End and the installation of a new sewerage system to replace the town's aging Victorian works. The above extract mentions a previous dig that took place in the same year 500m to the north west of the farm, this date and the approximate position of the treatment plant seems to correspond with the dig taking place on the site probably before construction began. Evidence from the dig dates the site as been occupied in the Late Iron Age (100BC -50BC), but the subsequent dig would reveal a much older settlement in very close proximity, which would suggest that this site was occupied for longer and is larger than was first thought.

Second Settlement

As far as I can ascertain the more recent dig was conducted prior to the construction of a new housing estate, as it appears to be standard practice to undertake an investigative dig on land that has been earmarked for major development, especially in this case when considering the findings from the previous nearby dig. The fact that seven round houses were discovered as well as evidence of metal work would suggest that this mid Iron Age (400BC - 100BC) settlement would have been substantial enough to be of some importance and it is safe to assume that the land surrounding the settlement would have been cultivated for crops. Also taking into account evidence of a later system of enclosures lends to the idea that animal husbandry was practiced on the site too.

Environment

For centuries the land surrounding the town of Whitby has been farmed - to this day much of the headland is still given over to arable farming -  this means that any significant signs of prehistory has long since been destroyed by the plough, but there is still evidence of  more ancient cultures to be seen on the landscape however slim. About a mile to the north of Broomfield Farm there is a road known as Hawsker Lane. Running parallel with coastline it is an old highway and monk's trod that leads to the Abbey on the east cliff. Along this road there a couple of tell tale signs which suggest more evidence of a prehistoric culture. One being Beacon Hill that sits just beyond the medieval manor of Whitby Laithes. Warning beacons were often placed on top of ancient barrows as it was usual that these sites occupied the highest ground in the area ( two examples in the local area are Danby Beacon and Beacon Hill at Hinderwell ). A little further on there is a cliff top campsite known as Haggit / Highgate Howe and as the name suggests there was probably another barrow situated there, although nothing exists now. And of course there is the Abbey itself. During the Gregorian mission, which began in 596 AD, Pope Gregory The Great pointedly directed his emissary Augustine to not destroy pagan sites, instead he was told to assimilate and adapt these sacred places giving them a Christian veneer. So it could be speculated that the land that surrounds Broomfield Farm may have been of some sacred importance to the Iron Age people that lived there. It is also worth considering too that tumuli and barrows tend to date back to the Neolithic and Bronze Ages, which would also imply that the area has been occupied for longer than the excavations suggest.  

This map dated 1915 shows Hawsker Lane is relation to Broomfield Farm - which is highlighted in red. 

The Walk

Heading west from the village of Stainsacre I walked along the disused railway line known as the Cinder Track. In the distance and central to the image can be seen the roof top of Broomfield Farm.

Leaving the Cinder Track behind I headed north along a public footpath, which is incidentally a continuation of an old monk's trod that passes through Cock Mill Wood to the south, I eventually reached the top of a steady incline where I was confronted by rows of camping pods ( it should be noted that  Broomfield is no longer a working farm, instead it is now a animal rescue centre and camp site ). Seeing these pods nestling the landscape reminded me of a more recent era in Whitby's history.

 Between the years of 1752 and 1833 the port of Whitby was the capital of the whaling industry. The fleets' catch would be landed and processed in the town and having an excess of whale bones the people of the town would sometimes use them as building material, specifically the whale's jaw bones ( click on OUT ON YE! to read more ).

Just a little further to the west of the farm is the water treatment plant that was built in 1999. I have long been intrigued with these hidden municipal sites. Discrete and secluded they are usually found on the edge of towns and cities. Although functional in there design I have always found them architecturally fascinating. The probable reason for this is that as a child in the 1970's I was fed on diet of television created by the late great Terry Nation, and often because of  programming and budgetary constraints these places would feature as a stand in for either alien landscapes or post-apocalyptic worlds. Whether it was an abandoned quarry such as Betchworth in Surrey or a concrete edifice lost in the woods or even a sewage processing plant, the shows gave these remote places an odd sense of otherworldliness. 

Survivors - Betchworth Quarry

Dr Who - Betchworth Quarry

Waterloo Tower - Quex Park, Birchington. Featured in the Blake's 7 episode Bounty

Here's a list of Blake's 7 film locations for a more comprehensive look at this 'phenomenon'.

This road leading north from the farm and sewage works is all that now stands in the way of the land surrounding Broomfield being swallowed up by the town.

The new estate known as Abbey View has over one hundred plots, but this is probably just the first phase of development, knowing that the nearby secondary school is due to close and the land it stands on will be put up for sale.

There is nothing remarkable about the estate itself. The unimaginative architectural design that is seemingly ubiquitous across modern housing developments is also apparent here. I wonder if in years to come, when the estate has settled and feels more lived in, will we get artists such as George Shaw wanting to capture the mundane and sometimes unsettling beauty of a street corner, a row of shops or the estate pub. I'd like to thinks so, but these estates feels transient in nature, often seen as a first step upon the housing ladder, or like elsewhere in the town, the properties will be  bought with the intention of letting as holiday accommodation. I think that is the difference. George Shaw captures a place that feels lived in. The deep roots are apparent in his painting. You get the sense people have been born, lived and died in these places and more importantly community exists. Modern housing estates are no longer built with community in mind, they feel more like the outer bastions of  Middle England. A place where you can begin to raise the draw bridge.

Scenes from the Passion : Ten Shilling Wood, 2002. George Shaw 

The only point of real interest I found amongst the Osprey Ways and Guillemot Drives was the road named Merlin Lane. Although in keeping the Aves theme, I didn't realise at the time the Merlin in question was the small bird of prey and not the Arthurian wizard. In my defence I am currently reading Mythology Of The British Isles by Geoffrey Ashe and so have a head full of ancient legends of gods, kings and giants. But it did feel like a nice coincidence that I was drawn to this road whilst reading up on the myth of Merlin. 

It is thought that the character of Merlin is an amalgamation of two earlier Romano-British Celts the bard Myrddin and the warlord Ambrosius. In the 12th century the pseudo-historian Geoffrey Of Monmouth would combine these two mythical figures to create Merlinus Ambrosius, but it was in the 6th century when the prototype Merlin would first appear and where he would be used as tool for propaganda by the likes of Gildas The Wise.

Britain at the time had recently been abandoned by Rome and faced numerous incursions both internally and from abroad. It was during this tumultuous period that the British people desperately sought a hero to rally round. So out of the shadows of the likes of Vortigern and Maximus stepped the characters of Merlin and Arthur to consolidate a national identity. 

Although the idea of Merlin is a Romano-British construct these myth making roots run much deeper and can be seen in older forms of story telling, such as the myth of Brân the Blessed from the Welsh bardic tradition, which in turn has roots that can be traced back to the Iron Age cult of the Druids. So it could be said that these saviour architype that Merlin represents have been with us throughout the ages and more pointedly seems to still be present today.

   

Leaving behind the Harris fenced boundaries of  Abbey View ( it should be noted that you cannot actually see the Abbey from the housing development, just the sprawl of a retail park and industrial estate on the opposite side of the A171) I head back towards the village of Stainsacre via a waterlogged public footpath. As I crossed the three fields that are now all that stand between the village becoming the town,  I was struck by the juxtaposition between the ancient and the modern. Surrounded by land that had been exposed to human activity for thousands of years, and how for the vast tract of that time the people that have populated this land have lived a subsistence lifestyle. Knowing that where once stood seven roundhouses with a probable population of one hundred, there now sits a new estate that could easily house over five  hundred people. The thought that those ancient farmers would have been subject to the mercies and rigors of cultivating and farming the land in a effort to maintain a continuous supply of food, while now on the very same plot of land people can just cross the road and enter a place where there is a surplus of requirement. It is an irony that a place where our ancestors would once have propagated a deep and profound understanding of this land, there is now such an excess of produce that we as a society give very little thought or concern for it's provenance and sustainability.

The Finds

I didn't for one minute expect to find any artifacts relating to the Iron Age settlement, but still I kept my eyes open, because the excavation of the new estate would have disturbed a lot of earth in preparation for the construction of the footings, drainage and roads.

I found both the clay pipe and the twenty pence piece on the road that divides the farm from the estate. Clay pipes have been in and out of fashion since the late 17th century, until they finally completely disappeared in the 1930's. So this piece of pipe could ostensibly be over three hundred years old, but more than likely it dates from the turn of the last century. The twenty pence piece is dated 2005, which is not old, but my eldest child is the same age, which makes me feel old. The glass bottle bottom was found in a ploughed field as I made my way home, I imagine it is probably a couple of hundred years old or so. Nothing worth notifying the authorities over, but it was a nice to see that even with these small finds and through the discoveries of the two larger excavations that the land is still telling it's story.  

Overview

999 saw massive project for Whitby & for Yrkshire Water, which would see a treatment plant built and set

This is a Google map image of the area that I explored. Centred at the bottom of the map is The Windmill Inn located in the small village of Stainsacre. To the west and in the bottom left corner is the site of Broomfield Farm and just to the left of that the sewage works. Abbey View sits just above the farm with the supermarkets located across the road to the north of the housing estate. At the top of the map just to the right of centre is Highgate Howe which sits adjacent to the road known as  Hawsker Lane that leads directly to the Abbey. Below the caravan park is Poverty Cottage which is the location of the medieval manor Whitby Laithes. To the east of the manor is the farm owned by J A Collinson where Beacon Hill is located.

Trod

Desire Line (di.ZYR lyn) n. An informal path that pedestrians prefer to take to get from one location to another rather than using a foot path or other official route.

   

 

The French philosopher Gaston Bachelard first coined the phrase 'Desire Lines' in his 1958 book 'The Poetics of Space' - expressed as 'a term in landscape architecture used to describe a path that isn't designed, but is rather worn away by people finding the shortest distance between two points.

The Devil Came To Dine

Before

Born of fear and deception the loathsome beast slithered forth. Freed from its infernal bonds the storyteller set about sculpting the creature a grotesque and terrible form. Then with carefully crafted undertones he invoked in it the first signs of life. Gaining strength and stature the monster made quick and suddenly disappeared into the darkness that lay beyond the meagre glow of the fire's flame. Those who had been gathered around the hearth that night would later swear to a man, that they had heard the steady thump of this abhorrent creature's heart. Yet, none would admit to having seen the beast.

Then

'I will not speak this monster's name,' said the teller of this tale to his enrapt audience. 'Fore all of you know this beast of which I talk. As each and every one of you here has already lost something greatly valued to this demons' whim.'

He then pointed a long slender finger at a man that sat across from him. 'Shepherd, did you not lose you entire flock to it's inhuman savagery naught but a week ago?'

'And you,' he turned to face a gaunt looking man to his left. 'You, the fisher of these rivers. Have you not noticed that your catch is much diminished and what is caught is inedible due to disease and rot? A plague, no doubt, bought about by the very thing we now talk of.'

'You, tiller of the soil,' the narrator's voice was now raised to a greater volume. ' I see you hidden in your shame. Fore was it not the failure of your harvest this past year that has brought such privations upon this village?'

'Yet, this I know,' a wry smile quickly passed across the story teller's face. 'You can rest assured, that what ever blighted your crop last year was not of your doing. The beast, it seems, has been abroad for longer than any of you could have known.'

The fire sputtered suddenly like the flame of a dying candle. Consumed by the shadows of this flickering half light, the people concerned look to the narrator for solace. It was then that they each noticed he had shed a single glistening tear, which slowly rolled down his left cheek. 'Oh, but these trials and tribulations that you have suffered of late, are as nothing compared to the agonies suffered when a child's life is snuffed out. And, I know that all who are seated here before me are well versed in that exquisite pain.'

From around the encircled fire a low moan started to issue, suddenly the men of the village began to gnash their teeth and beat at their chests, and as the moan increased in volume the womenfolk took to clawing at their flesh and tearing the hair from their heads. It was all the narrator could do to contain his ecstasy as he watched this scene unfold before him, but he knew he must maintain his composure. He needed to complete his tale.

'Oh, my poor flock. Please, I beseech you.' The storyteller now standing raised his arms in an effort to calm the orgy of pain and wild abandon. 'Fore, you see, I too know your pain, and, so it is I share in your loss. In fact this is why I am here on this very eve. I stand before you as your saviour.' With these words spoken the villagers stopped their violent frenzy, and slowly regaining their senses they turned to look upon the man that stood before them.

He continued. 'My own loss did set me upon a path and I followed where my pain led me. You see, yours is not the first village that I have visited. There are many more in your position. Indeed situated just beyond your borders there are but three more villages in similar dire circumstance. I have also sat about their hearth, like I now do with you. But I must here admit, I did quickly realise that these poor souls were already lost to the very same demon that afflicts you so. That he had enlisted them all to help him with his abominable work. So, it is not by his own hands that you have suffered as such, fore he is cunning and clever and he has used these retched folk under his control to wreak this havoc upon your lives. It is they who have killed your livestock, poisoned your rivers and salted your lands. And they who wrenched your children, in the cruelest fashion from your loving bosom.'

The Devil stepped back from the fire and surveyed the faces of the people sat about him. He watched in delight as the agony of their pains slowly transformed into an unbridled rage. The men of the village, in their fury, reached for anything that could be turned into a weapon, whilst the women screamed into the depths of night sky their desire for bloody revenge.

His work now done the Devil made to take his leave, but he was stopped in his tracks by the decrepit farmer.

'Thank you sire,' he whispered. 'You have lifted a heavy weight from my heart. Fore I was sure it was I that had damned this village, but you have now shown us that the fault is not ours. Instead all our woes lie at the feet of this terrible fiend and his legion.'

The Devil smiled at the man and it was the most beguiling of smiles.

'Please,' continued the old man. 'We have no riches with which to pay you, but, perhaps a little food may help. To see you on your way?'

The Devil leaned forward and looked into the old farmer's face. 'No need my good man. Indeed, I have dined well enough tonight.'

Turning from the chaos that had erupted all around him, the Devil then set forth into the blackness of the night, and as he crossed the wooden bridge on the outskirts of the village the people paused momentarily in their madness, for they were struck, one and all, by some vague and horrific memory.

And So On 

The Devil walked on through the darkness. Forgoing the well warn highways, he forged his own path through the gnarled scrub and brier. Cresting a low ridge he looked upon a black vale. In the distance he saw the flicker of a flame. He felt the first pang of hunger stir within him as he set forth down the steady slope and on towards his next meal.     

The Demolition Of Boulby Bank

 

We know that an object that is not consciously noticed at the time of a first visit can, by its absence during subsequent visits, provoke an indefinable impression: as a result of this sighting backwards in time, the absence of the object becomes a presence one can feel. 

Formulary for a New Urbanism (1953) - Ivan Chtcheglov

The following illustrations are take from a book titled ‘Buildings of Old Whitby’ by Albert T Pile. It contains over seventy beautifully rendered pen and ink sketches in which the artist manages to capture a pivotal moment in the town's recent history.

It was in Whitby that he furthered his interest in the passing and demolition of many old parts of the town. The yards off Church Street around Boulby Bank, together with those that were behind Haggersgate and the Fish Quay, are all documented with sketches of their gradual disappearance – dates, times and even records of the numbers of the cottages depicted in each yard are recorded. Sometimes the creative artist is able to devote his whole life to an artistic talent. It is however rare that a person who uses his leisure time and retirement can have the ability to produce the amount of creative work of the calibre of Albert T. Pile.                                                                                                                                       

Text taken from Albert T Pile - Whitby Museum 

Church Street - Boulby Bank - 8 January 2012

Church Street - 8 January 2012

Church Street - Lockeys Terrace - 8 January 2012

Remains - Church Street - 8 January 2012

Follow the link at Whitby Museum for the full article on the life of Albert T. Pile

The Giantess Belle

 

Old Wive's Neck

She as ancient as rivers run

As contours carved from glacial sun

She of sky and sea and shore

Of unknown lands unexplored

She of the frozen hill, a sacred seat

Of hidden domain & lofty peak

She of the ice sheet that recedes

The diluvian throne she succeeds

She of deep cut vales & long lost lakes

Of future kingdoms, that she would shape

Venus of Hohle Fels Figurine
Dated between 40,000 - 35,000 years old