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Hodge Close Quarry: Difference between revisions

Large disused quarry at Tilberthwaite
Content added Content deleted
(→‎Accidents and rock falls: photo of historic rock fall added)
(→‎Accidents and rock falls: another accidental death from explosion)
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John Casson was just 25 years of age when he was killed on 27 November 1901, after a large mass of rock fell from the side and buried him.<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ1/i10869.htm In Memoriam – John Casson] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> Another tragedy was that of 50 year old Joseph Dixon who, on 8 September 1932, was killed instantly when 30-40 ton rock fell on him in the quarry.<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ1/i19724.htm In Memoriam – Joseph Dixon] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> A father and son, both in employment at Hodge Close, were killed 22 years apart: John Brockbank on 20 July 1911,<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ1/i13769.htm In Memoriam – John Brockbank] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> and his son Ralph Brockbank, on 9 November 1933.<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ2/i24777.htm In Memoriam – Ralph Brockbank] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> Both men saw their last from accidents, the former by rock falling from a Blondin waggon, the later struck by rock from an explosion. Not all injuries came from rock falls. There were other casualties across all the mining operations in the Tilberthwaite Valley, proving just how dangerous the job was.
John Casson was just 25 years of age when he was killed on 27 November 1901, after a large mass of rock fell from the side and buried him.<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ1/i10869.htm In Memoriam – John Casson] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> Another tragedy was that of 50 year old Joseph Dixon who, on 8 September 1932, was killed instantly when 30-40 ton rock fell on him in the quarry.<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ1/i19724.htm In Memoriam – Joseph Dixon] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> A father and son, both in employment at Hodge Close, were killed 22 years apart: John Brockbank on 20 July 1911,<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ1/i13769.htm In Memoriam – John Brockbank] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> and his son Ralph Brockbank, on 9 November 1933.<ref>[http://www.dmm.org.uk/individ2/i24777.htm In Memoriam – Ralph Brockbank] Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.</ref> Both men saw their last from accidents, the former by rock falling from a Blondin waggon, the later struck by rock from an explosion. Not all injuries came from rock falls.

On 13 March 1898, Daniel Hogan was attempting to open a cask of some explosive powder using a hammer and chisel. Suffice to say that a single spark from metal on metal was enough to create a devastating explosion. He died later on from his injuries.<ref>Cameron, p.32.</ref> There were other casualties across all the mining operations in the Tilberthwaite Valley, proving just how dangerous the job was.


==Nearby quarries==
==Nearby quarries==

Revision as of 20:29, 11 May 2023

View from the northern end of the quarry looking towards the scree slope


Hodge Close Quarry is a flooded, green slate quarry, nestled amongst some beautiful countryside but with obvious signs of historic mining works having taken place throughout the Tilberthwaite Valley. Mining probably started around the 1780s, and with a few periods of inactivity, continued through until 1964.[1] It is located 4.6 kilometres (2.9 miles) north of Coniston and 12 kilometres (7.4 miles) west of Ambleside. It has become a popular, well-trodden area for hikers and, over the years, a key location for rock climbing, abseiling, and scuba diving. There are sheer drops to the north, west and east, and to the south there is a scree slope, none of which have barriers in place at the edges, but warning signs are placed near the roadside. However, caution is advised at all times. Hodge close is attached to neighbouring Parrock Quarry, also open to the elements, but here nature has fully reclaimed the rocky features of once busy mining operations, giving the appearance of something out of Conan Doyle’s, The Lost World.

The mining operations have produced an enormous amount of spoil and, depending on opinion, created an eyesore in an otherwise picturesque valley with Holme Fell as its nearby peak. The cold, grey spoil is a brooding reminder of the strong history of mining in the area. The scale of the works here was big enough to produce a pile of waste material so large that it has plateaued, and now become part of the fell side in a somewhat bleak but beautiful way. Nature has found a way to claw back what was taken, with silver birch trees, amongst others, seemingly growing where slate was once deposited. 

The following words are a brief appreciation of this unique place, borne from many years of hard work by the people that lived in the small mining communities of Tilberthwaite, Little Langdale and Coniston during the 19th and 20th centuries.


View from the south-western side looking towards the opening through to Parrock Quarry

Operational use

There is a strong history of mining across the Lake District. The Tilberthwaite Valley is just one of those areas where mining played a large part in the rural lives of those that called this place home. Hodge Close is a quarry pit with a depth of over 90 metres (300 feet), half of which is below the current water level.[2] During the quarry's operational use, there were at least three different systems installed for lifting and removing the large slabs of slate (clogs). A steam crane and a water balanced lift were used to effect in the latter part of the 19th century. During the 20th century, a Blondin crane was used right up until the quarry closed. Initially, the cables were on a north-west to south-east alignment, however, at some point after the First World War, these were realigned north to south.[2] The remains of the water pipe for the water balanced lift, and various support anchors for the Blondin crane are still visible on the periphery; heavy-duty steel, cut and rusted, bygone times of industrial workings, now with an air of peace and tranquillity. Let's take a quick look at this Ordnance Survey map in order to furnish the reader with some geographical awareness.


Old Ordnance Survey map showing Hodge Close Quarry and environs – from Westmorland Sheet XXV.S.E., published 1920


The map was first surveyed in 1847 (Lancashire) and 1865 (Westmorland), then revised in 1912 and finally published in 1920. Throughout that time there would have been many changes across the Tilberthwaite Valley. Take a look at the centre right and you can clearly see the alignment of the cables, labelled as "Travelling Crane". This was a feature of the Blondin crane, the latter of the three different systems mentioned above for removing large quantities of slate. The rail tracks to the west were used for transporting the useable slate to the open-fronted riving sheds, where the slate was skilfully split (riven), and then shaped (dressed) by hand. The unusable slate was dumped on the spoil. There are multiple "levels" shown too. Levels are tunnels that run at a slight incline, providing access to the internal workings of the quarries. One of the last areas to be worked here was accessed by the level at Bakestone Barrow, shown on the map at the southern end of the quarry.

On a separate note for those who may not be aware, there is a level that can still be accessed, which will provide the adventurer entry inside the quarry. This was possibly one of the access levels where slate was removed using the water balanced lift. The opening of the tunnel is situated on the western side at the foot of the spoil, accessed from the northern end of the car park. The caveat is the tunnel is relatively low in height and contains water up to the knee. Protective headwear and a bright LED torch are essential as the tunnel is very dark, and the rocks are jagged. At the end of the tunnel there is a small opening and some scaffold ladders to descend to the lower levels and further exploration. 


On the bridge of rock between Hodge Close and Parrock Quarries with the northern crane support anchors


Before the Blondin was even installed, the second half of the 19th century saw various mining operations taking place at Hodge Close, all of which were leased from the Landowners, the Dukes of Buccleuch. The site we know today has changed dramatically since then. It is impossible to say where these other quarries were located with any certainty. Suffice to say, the various, smaller workings would have made Hodge Close look very different to its modern day counterpart. During the 1870s, multiple levels were being worked on simultaneously in search of the right band of rock, which eventually, a sizeable amount was found deeper down.[3] This was worked successfully as an underground operation (closehead), situated below the already existing upper efforts. Hodge Close was to become an even bigger operation, and the area changed dramatically from this point onwards. The roof of the closehead was removed (a process called open-topping), and the metamorphosis to open pit was the next natural stage of its evolution.

The next few years saw an upturn in production and a huge tonnage of slate was being removed, increasing the size of the pit, month by month. A rock fall incident in 1890 had caused irreparable damage to the steam crane that was in use at the time. By 1899, the water balance lift was in operation and continued to churn out the slate until it was deemed no longer feasible to do so given the increased depth of the pit. The decision was made to dismantle the lift and replace it with the more adaptable Blondin crane,[4] which was capable of lifting the slate from even greater depths. This relatively new technology was developed by Scottish quarry engineer, John Fyfe. He was responsible for installing the first working example in 1872. John M. Henderson and Co. developed the first commercial system by 1896, the first installation of which was located at a Welsh quarry in Pen-yr-Orsedd in 1899, the same year Hodge Close was using the water balance lift. Successful installations elsewhere paved the way for Hodge Close to take the leap financially and install their version in this very Lakeland setting.

The Blondin crane

The spoil heaps, which have become as much a part of the landscape as any natural vista, include a road to the satellite quarries of Klondyke and Peat Field. Further south-west is the quarry of Calf How accessed by a separate road behind Holme Ground cottages. Both Peat Field and Calf How were put to use after the outbreak of the First World War, which saw slate mining as non-essential. Numerous men working at Hodge Close enlisted and went off to serve King and County in whatever capacity was deemed of them at the time. A reduced workforce meant that by September 1915, Hodge Close had to cease operations and the remaining men moved to these smaller operations.[5] It wasn't long before the quarry was flooded, and little maintenance carried by a skeleton crew during the war years meant Hodge Close was slowly deteriorating. Added to this, there were very real dangers of rock falls without any prior warning. On 19 April 1918, after two and a half years of inactivity, the inevitable happened. A catastrophic rockfall saw a vast chunk of rock fall from the western side of the quarry, causing utter annihilation. According to Alastair Cameron's superb book called Slate from Coniston, he writes of the destruction of the hoist, which without, the operation of slate removal from quarry pit is futile:

"The debris from the fall was scattered over the galleries, burying the working faces in rubbish, and destroying a considerable amount of plant including a boiler, several pumps and a turbine. But worst of all was the damage to the landing platform onto which blocks from the aerial hoist were deposited. Very little was left of the platform and this, effectively, meant that the aerial hoist could no longer be used.[5]

The hoist Cameron describes is the Blondin, named so after the French tightrope walker and acrobat Charles Blondin. These were fundamental to the removal of rock from deep quarry pits such as that found at Hodge Close. The deeper the pit, the more dangerous the operation became. But they served the purpose with success, lifting large volumes of clog in wagons from the quarry base to ground level at the top of the quarry, where they would be transported by rail to the riving sheds; an operation of hard physical labour, done with skill and practice. The hoist's cables, as mentioned earlier, were originally in a north-west to south east alignment. They were suspended tightly across the quarry and contained the travelling cradle, the piece of kit that allows for horizontal movement across the width of the quarry and vertical movement from the quarry floor to the dropping off platform, constructed at the edge of the quarry.


Closer view of one of the northern crane support anchors


The destruction of the landing platform and the other plant equipment was a blow to the Tilberthwaite Green Slate Company, who had been largely successful at Hodge Close for some time. The War ended and new ideas to continue the operation here materialised. One such idea was to start a new tunnel from further down the hillside, and break through into the base of the pit. This idea was soon dissolved when engineers realised that the quarry floor was already below the lowest point of the valley, which made the plan impossible from the onset.[6]

At this point I’m not entirely sure whether the Tilberthwaite Company was still in ownership of the lease. Cameron mentions that the Buttermere Green Slate Company takes over at Hodge Close, yet another source suggests that Tilberthwaite Company was mining here well into the 1930s. The proprietor during this time was J.J. Thomas, who had worked at Hodge Close for 35 years. He wrote to the Buccleuch Estate asking for permission to terminate the lease:

"We are still most anxious to continue operations but in the event of our not succeeding in finding further profitable slate beds, or the feasibility of reopening Hodge Close on a profitable basis, we would very respectfully ask you if you would give us the opportunity of terminating the lease at the end of 1922 and leaving Hodge Close pit as it now stands. The narrowness of the vein and the great depth of the pit makes it extremely dangerous to work and the fall of rock at what was thought to be the abundant part of the side where our plant was placed gives us a feeling of insecurity.[6]

Having been granted his request, Cameron states that the Buttermere Company takes over the operation from this point. Eventually, the Blondin was realigned north to south (as seen by the anchors at the northern end of the quarry in the photos above) and pumps were installed to remove the 100ft of water that flooded the quarry during the war. With the quarry dry again and the crane back in use, it seems that instead of going down the band of rock, the decision was made to go across, working right up to the boundary of Parrock Quarry, which had been in operational use by the Buttermere Company since before the turn of the 19th century.[6]


Remains of crane located in the opening between Hodge Close and Parrock Quarries

Accidents and rock falls

At the best of times, pit quarries were generally dangerous places to work. Rock falls were just a part of everyday life for the men that worked in these hazardous places. However, accidents were often enough to be a concern. At the turn of the 20th century there weren't the same health and safety regulations in place, but rock falls varying in size, regardless of what century, were still fairly commonplace and difficult to predict. Hodge Close, and its neighbour, Parrock, had their fair share. One of the biggest rock falls occurred in 1885 when a slab, with an estimated weight of around 1000 tons, came crashing down. Fortunately for all involved, no one was hurt,[3] but there have been others whose luck was less than favourable.


View of one of the large rock falls in the site history, causing serious damage to plant equipment


John Casson was just 25 years of age when he was killed on 27 November 1901, after a large mass of rock fell from the side and buried him.[7] Another tragedy was that of 50 year old Joseph Dixon who, on 8 September 1932, was killed instantly when 30-40 ton rock fell on him in the quarry.[8] A father and son, both in employment at Hodge Close, were killed 22 years apart: John Brockbank on 20 July 1911,[9] and his son Ralph Brockbank, on 9 November 1933.[10] Both men saw their last from accidents, the former by rock falling from a Blondin waggon, the later struck by rock from an explosion. Not all injuries came from rock falls.

On 13 March 1898, Daniel Hogan was attempting to open a cask of some explosive powder using a hammer and chisel. Suffice to say that a single spark from metal on metal was enough to create a devastating explosion. He died later on from his injuries.[11] There were other casualties across all the mining operations in the Tilberthwaite Valley, proving just how dangerous the job was.

Nearby quarries

Although shown as Hodge Close Quarries on the map, there are in fact several other satellite quarries, including the Calf How, Peat Field, and Klondyke quarries. From the southern end of Hodge Close, there is a clear and unobstructed view to the connecting Parrock Quarry. This, too, has an interesting history, having started out as an underground operation that eventually was open-topped, resulting in the open pit we see today.

Access and parking

Access is via the A593 between Skelwith Bridge and Coniston. There are two turns fairly close to each other. One is for Tilberthwaite and the other for Hodge Close. If coming from Coniston, it is the 2nd left turn. If coming from Skelwith Bridge and Ambleside, it is the 1st right. (SD 31412 99736,

) From the turn, it is approximately 2 kilometres (1.2 miles) up a narrow lane, which weaves through woodland, passing the Holme Ground cottages, which were built for quarry workers in the 1880s. The road eventually summits, then descends to the car park. There is parking for a maximum of 20 vehicles, which can fill fairly quickly. Large rocks have been put in place to limit the number of vehicles that can park here. There is no turning or vehicular access beyond the end of the car park, except for residents and holiday cottages.

As a final note, anyone with common sense would know that quarries are incredibly dangerous places, and should heed any notion of climbing rocks or swimming in the cold, murky waters without professional guidance. There is a stark beauty about the place, but this quarry has claimed the lives of people past and present. Hodge Close is a special place for all to enjoy, whether as passers-by or as a sports enthusiasts. The history of this remarkable quarry at Hodge Close, and indeed the whole mining valley, is at the very least, intriguing.

Sources

  • Cameron, Alastair (1996). Slate from Coniston. Barrow in Furness: Cumbria Amenity Trust Mining History Society.

References

  1. Cameron, p.139.
  2. 2.0 2.1 Cameron, p.141.
  3. 3.0 3.1 Cameron, p.30.
  4. Cameron, p.34.
  5. 5.0 5.1 Cameron, p.45.
  6. 6.0 6.1 6.2 Cameron, p.46.
  7. In Memoriam – John Casson Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.
  8. In Memoriam – Joseph Dixon Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.
  9. In Memoriam – John Brockbank Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.
  10. In Memoriam – Ralph Brockbank Durham Mining Museum. Accessed 8 May, 2023.
  11. Cameron, p.32.

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