Wednesday, 28 June 2017

Bombed out – but not forgotten

In the middle of the army’s firing ranges at Battle Hill lies the ruin of East Loups’s – a link to a forgotten way of farming. Editor Trevor Brookes reports


JENNY Braddy’s stepfather used to fume when he heard the explosions at East Loups’s.

The British Army had taken over the land around the time of the Second World War to train troops destined to tackle Hitler on foreign fields.

Germany had been defeated but the MOD was still using the land at Cotherstone Moor as a firing range, just as it does today.

Mrs Braddy was a young girl whose family had in 1947 moved into a remote cottage, Cuckoo Farm, across the moor from East Loups’s.

“My stepfather used to get really cross because the Army used to take pot shots at East Loups’s. He used to say ‘it belongs to someone’. The Army were supposed to give it back but they never did,” she said.

Mrs Braddy is well known to Teesdale Mercury readers through her Looking Back columns under the pen name of Jinny Howlett. She revisited East Loups’s when she joined an excursion organised by history group the Teesdale Record Society.

The chairman, Neville Cross, began explaining the history of the abandoned farmstead when Mrs Braddy, who was with husband Geoff and their dog, revealed her link to the farm’s past.

“It was called ‘old grassland’ back then. The military let the walls go to wrack and ruin so the sheep from the farm used to roam over here because the grass was so good. We used to have to come here to get them,” she said.

“You used to see all the rare Teesdale flowers here. I remember them so well as a child.

“I can still recall the ridge and furrow marks in the heather, which had meant at one point in its history the land had been extended. I think it was a very substantial farmhouse.”

On a wet and wild summer’s evening, nowhere in Teesdale can lay claim to being more atmospheric that East Loups’s, which is perched on a hill with two valleys on each side – one overlooking Battle Hill, the other Booze Wood and behind it Corn Park.

In Queen Victoria’s reign, silence in the house during the winter nights would have been broken only by the humming of the spinning wheel.

The Tinkler family lived at Loups’s for 300 years and may have been the last family to live there.

Oxen did ploughing with a wooden plough in the 19th century, and the crops often weren’t ready for harvesting until quite late in the year, Mr Tinkler once regaled to the Teesdale Mercury. They used to talk about “Brough Hill time” because when Brough Hill fair was over it was time to get ready for winter. A time to get in peat for the fire, which would have roared next to the flickering and spitting light of homemade sheep’s fat candles.

Mrs Braddy says: “At that time, there was always plenty to eat though. Mr Tinkler described the ‘kail pot’ hanging from the ‘rannel balk’ – the beam across the broad open chimney. It was kept simmering over the fire and it would usually be well filled with salted mutton, barley and vegetables.

“Outside, on the farm, the fields were poorly drained and there were no hedges or stone walls. Field boundaries were marked by ditches. There were always plenty of ponies on the farm.”

In the 18th century, there were few wheeled carts so the ponies did all the work. They were far better suited to Teesdale’s terrain at the time because of the atrocious roads and a lack of bridges across becks – even Deepdale Beck had to be crossed by a ford. So why was it called Loups’s?

There is a suggestion that it’s a Scottish word used to describe a place where a beck was so narrow a person could leap across in a single stride, says Mrs Braddy who now lives in Middlesbrough.

Some locals today still call it Leap House. Jenny recalls post-war inhabitants of the dale pronouncing it as “Lowpses”.

Local history enthusiast Neville Cross believes the old quarry nearby was once a place where the Romans worked stone. All that’s left, he says are the giant rocks that were unwanted or unusable. You can see the ladder marks the engineers put in the rocks if you know where to look,” says Mr Cross, who as the owner of a dale quarry company knows a thing or two about stone.

Local legend has it that High Corn Park nearby once had a well in the kitchen and there are suggestions that, due to its isolated nature, East Loups’s would have had one too. Today, little is left of East Loups’s – much of its structure has either been bombed or stolen.

Those intent on exploring Loups’s would be advised to take note that East Loups’s, West Loups’s and Loups’s Hill are part of an area the Army uses for rifle and gun training – including night firing, battle simulation and the use of pyrotechnics. The MoD’s website points out that access to some rights of way are controlled by red flags red lamps.

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