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BB1834 : An
Ordinary Farming Family ?
Thursday
11th October 2018
"May
close early due to bad light."
That
is what it said on the Townend website and that is what
worried me. We knew that foul weather was expected
in the mid afternoon. Visiting a property that
has no (well, hardly) any electric lighting when it's
dark outside is not likely to be a good idea.
On
the other hand, we didn't want to be stuck out on the
fells when the storm struck.
As
a result, we limited our aspirations to the ascent of
Troutbeck Tongue - one of the lowest Wainwrights but
needed by Robin - and hoped that we would be able to
enter Townend to fulfil our cultural quota before it
was too late.
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In
case you are wondering what Townend actually is (and
I have had the wrong impression for decades) the National
Trust website is no great help. It describes the
Brownes of Townend as just an "ordinary farming
family". I thought it would be a simple home that
had been preserved in aspic- the equivalent almost of
a Scottish Crofter's dwelling.
Wrong,
but more of that later.
The
church clock was chiming 9 as we set off on foot up
the valley, a skein of geese overhead.
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It
is quite a long trek to Troutbeck Park before the climbing
starts but it is a pleasant one- through village and
fields with the Ill Bell range to our right although,
as expected, the tops were shrouded. Fortunately
the Tongue was clear.
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It
is a steep climb but fortunately not long, so the hard
work was soon over. That left us with what should have
been a pleasant, easy descent down its northern nose
and stroll back down the valley.
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The
nose part was fine but the stroll back was a different
matter. The path that we had chosen was full of
very slippery rock. Great care was needed, especially
as to our right was a fence topped with nasty barbs.
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At
the earliest opportunity we abandoned that plan and
returned to the Hagg Gill valley bottom. The
stroll back did then become easy. We paused only
for lunch at noon and the usual text message to Tony
to let him know1.
As
we reached the car, the church clock told us it was
1:30. After disrobing mucky gear, we drove the
short distance to Townend. We had expected it
to be quiet but the car park was full and the house
was heaving.
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What
could be seen in the dark was a revelation. To
my uneducated mind, this was no typical farming family's
home but, to quote from its souvenir guide book, "a
treasure trove of items accumulated over the years."
The
main room, the Fire House, was particularly striking
with its ornate wooden carved furniture that incorporated
at least three notable clocks. Oops, "striking"
was not meant as a pun!
"Distinguished
and prosperous". Quite so.
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It
was too busy and too gloomy to explore properly so we
will have to return on a quieter and sunnier day to
do it justice. Instead we decided to explore the
Mortal Man, which in contrast to previous visits was
quiet. So, whilst the rain set in outside, we
could enjoy their own specially brewed "Sally Birkett"
ale and engage in our random chatterings. Much
in the fashion that "ordinary farming families",
or at least the menfolk who have laboured up the Tongue,
must have done for generations.
Don,
Thursday 11th October 2018
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1
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My
apologies, dear reader, for this "in
joke". Tony, when with us,
is desperate to eat at noon but seldom
do we allow him to do so.
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