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Scale Hill, Buttermere
Scale Hill
locality:-   Brackenthwaite
civil parish:-   Buttermere (formerly Cumberland)
county:-   Cumbria
locality type:-   buildings
coordinates:-   NY15012164
1Km square:-   NY1521
10Km square:-   NY12

MN photo:-  
Now holiday cottages; once an inn.

BLY32.jpg (taken 24.4.2006)  
BLY31.jpg (taken 24.4.2006)  

evidence:-   old map:- OS County Series (Cmd 63 9) 
placename:-  Scalehill Hotel
source data:-   Maps, County Series maps of Great Britain, scales 6 and 25 inches to 1 mile, published by the Ordnance Survey, Southampton, Hampshire, from about 1863 to 1948.

evidence:-   old map:- Donald 1774 (Cmd) 
placename:-  Scale Hill
source data:-   Map, hand coloured engraving, 3x2 sheets, The County of Cumberland, scale about 1 inch to 1 mile, by Thomas Donald, engraved and published by Joseph Hodskinson, 29 Arundel Street, Strand, London, 1774.
"Scale Hill"
block or blocks, labelled in lowercase; a hamlet or just a house 
item:-  Carlisle Library : Map 2
Image © Carlisle Library

evidence:-   old map:- Crosthwaite 1783-94 (But/Cru/Low) 
placename:-  Scale Hill
source data:-   Map, uncoloured engraving, An Accurate Map of Buttermere, Crummock and Loweswater Lakes, scale about 3 inches to 1 mile, by Peter Crosthwaite, Keswick, Cumberland, 1794, version published 1800.
"Scale Hill / The Inn"
item:-  Armitt Library : 1959.191.2
Image © see bottom of page

evidence:-   old map:- Otley 1818
placename:-  Scale Hill
source data:-   Map, uncoloured engraving, The District of the Lakes, Cumberland, Westmorland, and Lancashire, scale about 4 miles to 1 inch, by Jonathan Otley, 1818, engraved by J and G Menzies, Edinburgh, Scotland, published by Jonathan Otley, Keswick, Cumberland, et al, 1833.
item:-  JandMN : 48.1
Image © see bottom of page

evidence:-   descriptive text:- Ford 1839 (3rd edn 1843) 
placename:-  Scalehill
item:-  boat
source data:-   Guide book, A Description of Scenery in the Lake District, by Rev William Ford, published by Charles Thurnam, Carlisle, by W Edwards, 12 Ave Maria Lane, Charles Tilt, Fleet Street, William Smith, 113 Fleet Street, London, by Currie and Bowman, Newcastle, by Bancks and Co, Manchester, by Oliver and Boyd, Edinburgh, and by Sinclair, Dumfries, 1839.
image FD01P091, button  goto source
Page 91:-  "..."
"Scale Hill is a commodious inn, where boats may be had, and from whence Lowes Water may be most conveniently visited."
image FD01P170, button  goto source
Page 170:-  "..."
"Scalehill.- Here is an excellent inn, situated at the foot of the lake, at which the tourist may arrive, either by the vale of Newlands, or by the nearer route over Whinlatter, and by Lorton."

evidence:-   old map:- Ford 1839 map
placename:-  Scale Hill
source data:-   Map, uncoloured engraving, Map of the Lake District of Cumberland, Westmoreland and Lancashire, scale about 3.5 miles to 1 inch, published by Charles Thurnam, Carlisle, and by R Groombridge, 5 Paternoster Row, London, 3rd edn 1843.
"Scale Hill"
item:-  JandMN : 100.1
Image © see bottom of page

evidence:-   story:- Gibson 1868
placename:-  Skeall-hill
source data:-   Book, The Folk Speech of Cumberland, by Alexander Craig Gibson, 1868, published by Bemrose and Sons, London and G and T Coward, The Wordsworth Press, Carlisle, Cumberland, 4th edn 1891.
"YE het foorneun, when we war oa' gaily thrang at heam, an oald gentleman mak' of a fellow com' in tul ooar foald an' said, whyte nateral, 'at he wantit somebody to ga wid him on t' fells. We oa' stopt an' teuk a gud leuk at him afoor anybody spak. At last fadder said, middlin' sharp-like - (he ola's speaks that way when we're owte sa thrang, does fadder) - 'We've summat else to deu here nor to ga rakin' ower t'fells iv a fine day like this, wid neabody kens whoa.' T' Gentleman was a queerish like oald chap, wid a sharp luk oot, grey hair and a smo' feace - drist i' black, wid a white neckcloth like a parson, an' a par of specks on t' top of a gay lang nwose at wasn't set varra fair atween t' e'en on him, sooa at when he leuk't ebbem at yan through his specks he rayder turn't his feace to t'ya side. He leuk't that way at fadder, gev a lal chearful bit of a laugh an' said, iv his oan mak' o' toke, 'at he dudn't want to hinder wark, but he wad give anybody 'at ken't t'fells weel, a matter o' five shillin' to ga' wid him, an' carry two lal bags. 'Howay wid tha, Joe,' sez fadder to me, 'it's a croon mair nor iver thoo was wurth at heam!' I mead nea words aboot it, but ga' me-sel' a gud lump of a stick, an' away we set, t' oald lang nwos't man an' me, ebbem up t' deal."
"As we war' climmin' t'fell breist, he geh me two empty bags to carry, mead o' ledder. Thinks I to me-sel', 'I's gan to eddle me five shillin' middlin' cannily.' I niver thowte he wad finnd owte on t' fells to full his lal bags wid, but I was mistean."
"He turn't oot to be a far lisher oald chap nor a body wad ha' thowte, to leuk at his gray hair and his white hankecher an' his specks. He went lowpin owre wet spots an' gurt steans, an scarfflin across craggs an' screes, tul yan wad ha' sworn he was summat akin tul a Herdwick tip."
"Efter a while he begon leukin' hard at oa't' steans an' craggs we com' at, an' than he teuk till breckan lumps off them wid a queer lal hammer he hed wid him, an' stuffin t' bits intil t' bags 'at he geh me to carry. He fairly cap't me noo. I dudn't kem what to mak o' sec a customer as t'is! At last I cudn't help axin him what mead him cum sea far up on t'fell to lait bits o' steans when he may'd finnd sea many doon i't' deals? He laugh't a gay bit, an' than went on knappin away wid his lal hammer, an' said he was a jolly jist. Thinks I to me-sel, thou's a jolly jackass, but it maks nea matter to me if thou no'but pays me t' five shillin' thou promish't ma."
"Varra weel, he keep't on at this feckless wark tul gaily leat at on i't' efter-neun, an' be that time o' day he'd pang't beath o't' ledder pwokes as full as they wad hod wid bits o' stean."
"I've nit sea offen hed a harder darrak efter t' sheep, owther at clippin time or soavin' time, as I hed followin' that oald grey heidit chap an' carryin' his ledder bags. Bit hooiver, we gat back tul oor hoose afoor neeght. Mudder gev t' oald jolly jist, as he co't his-sel', some breid an' milk, an' efter he'd tean that an' toak't a lal bit wid fadder aboot sheep farming an' sec like, he pait ma me five shillin' like a man, an' than tel't ma he wad gi' ma udder five shillin' if I wad bring his pwokes full o' steans doon to Skeal-hill be nine o'clock i't' mwornin'."
"He set off to woak to Skeal-hill just as it was growin' dark; an' neist mwornin', as seun as I'd gitten me poddish, I teuk t' seam rwoad wid his ledder bags ower me shoolder, thinkin' tul me-sel' 'at yan may'd mak a lal fortume oot o' thur jolly jists if a lock mair on them wad no'but come oor way."
"It was anudder het mwornin', an' I hedn't woak't far tilll I begon to think that I was as gurt a feul as t'oald jolly jist to carry brocken steans o't' way to Skeal-hill, when I may'd finnd plenty iv any rwoad side, clwose to t' spot I was tackin' them tul. Sooa I shack't them oot o' t' pwokes, an' then stept on a gay bit leeter widout them."
"When I com nar to Skeal-hill, I fund oald Aberram Atchison sittin' on a steul breckan steans to mend rwoads wid, an' I ax't him if I med full my ledder pwokes frae his heap. Aberram was varra kaim't, an' el't ma to tak them 'at wasn't brocken if I wantit steans, sooa I tel't him hoo it was an' oa' aboot it. T' oald maizlin was like to toytle off his steul wid laughin', an' said me mudder sud tak gud care on ma, for I was ower sharp a chap to leeve varra lang i' this warld; but I'd better full my pwokes as I liked, an' mak' on wid them."
"T' jolly jist hed just gitten his breakfast when I gat to Skeal-hill, an' they teuk ma intil t' parlour tul him. He gurned oa' t' feace ower them when I went in wid his bags, an' tel't me to set them doon in a neuk, an' than ax't ma if I wad hev some breakfast. I said I'd gitten me poddish, but I dudn't mind; sooa he tel't them to bring in some mair coffee, an' eggs, an' ham, an twoastit breid an' stuff, an' I gat sec a breakfast as I niver seed i' my time, while t' oald gentleman was gittin' his-sel' ruddy to gang off in a carriage 'at was waitin' at t' dooar for him."
"When he com doon stairs he geh me t'udder five shillin' an pait for my breakfast an' what he'd gitten his-sel. Than he tel't me to put t' ledder bags wid t' steans in them on beside t' driver's feet, an' in he gat, an' laugh't an' noddit, an' away he went."
"I niver owder seed nor heard mair of t' jolly jist, but I've offen thowte ther mun be parlish few steans i' his country, when he was sooa pleas't at gittin' two lal ledder bags full for ten shillin', an' sec a breakfast as that an'. It wad be a faymish job if fadder could sell o' t' steans iv oor fell at five shillin' a pwokful - wadn't it?"
item:-  JandMN : 576
Image © see bottom of page

evidence:-   story:- Gibson 1868
placename:-  Skeall-hill
source data:-   Book, The Folk Speech of Cumberland, by Alexander Craig Gibson, 1868, published by Bemrose and Sons, London and G and T Coward, The Wordsworth Press, Carlisle, Cumberland, 4th edn 1891.
"BEING Another Supplement to 'Joe and the Geologist.' BY JOE HIS-SEL'."
"THAT Tommy Towman's a meast serious leear - an', like o' leears, he's a desper't feul. By jing! if I hed a dog hoaf as daft I wad hang't, that wad I! He gits doon aboot Cockermu'th an' Wurki'ton, noos an' thans; an' sum gentlemen theear, they tak' him inta t' Globe or t' Green Draggin, an just for nowte at o' else but acoase they think he kens me, they feed him wid drink an' they hod him i' toak till he can hardly tell whedder end on him's upbank; an' than they dro' on him to tell them o' mak's o' teals - o' mak's but true an's - aboot me; an' t' pooar lal gowk hesn't gumption aneuf to see 'at they're no'but makin' ghem on him. But, loavin' surs! if he'd hed t' sense of a gurse ga'n gezlin he wad niver ha' browte oot sec a lafter o' lees as he's gitten yan o' them Wurki'ton gentlemen (yan 'at kens weel hoo to write doon oor heamly toke) to put inta prent; an' what mak's yan madder nor o' t' rest,- to put them i' prent just as if I'd tel't them me-sel'. I's nut t' chap to try to cum ower an oald jolly jist wid whinin' oot 'Fadder's deid!' when ivery body kens 'at fadder whicker nor meast on us. My sarty! he's nin o' t' deein' mak' isn't fadder. We s' hev to wurry fadder when his time cums, for he'll niver dee of his-sel' sa lang as ther's any wark to hoond yan on tull. An' I needn't tell any body 'at knows me, 'at I was niver t' chap to tak' in owder a jolly jist or any udder feul; an' if I was, I's nut a likely fellow to be freeten't for what I'd done. But ther's m'appen sum as doesn't; an' mebbe ther's a lock 'at doesn't know what a leear Tommy Towman is, an' sooa, bee t' way o' settin' me-sel' reet wid beath maks. I'll tell ye what dud ga forret atween me an' t' jolly jist t' seckint time he com tul Skeal-hill."
"I said afooar 'at I'd niver seen mair o' t' oald jolly jist, an' when I said that, I hedn't; but ya donky neet last summer fadder hed been doon Lorton way, an' 'twas gaily leat when he gat heam. As he was sittin' iv his oan side o' t' fire, tryin' to lowse t' buttons of his spats, he says to me, 'Joe,' says he, 'I co't at Skeal-hill i' my rwoad heam.' Mudder was sittin' knittin' varra fast at hur side o' t' harth. She hedn't oppen't her mooth sen fadder co' heam,- nay, she hedn't sa much as leuk't at him efter t' ya hard glowre 'at she gev him at t'furst; but when he said he'd been at Skeal-hill, she gev a grunt, an' said, as if she spak till neabody but hur-sel', 'Ey! a blinnd body med see that.' 'I was speakin' till Joe,' says fadder. 'Joe,' says he, 'I was at Skeal-hill' - anudder grunt - 'an' they tel't me 'at thy oald frind t' jolly jist's back agean. I think thu'd better slip doon an' see if he wants to buy any mair brocken steans. Oald Aberram hes a fine heap or two liggin aside Kirgat. An' noo, 'at I've gitten them spats off, I's away to my bed.' Mudder tok a partin' shot at him as he stacker't off. She said, 'It wad be as weel for sum on us if ye wad bide theear, if ye mean to carry on i' t' way ye're shappin'!' Noo, this was hardly fair o' mudder, for it's no'but yance iv a way 'at fadder cu's heam leat an' stackery; but I wasn't sworry to see him git a lal snape, he's sae ruddy wid his snapes his-sel'. I ken't weel aneuf he was no'but mackin ghem o me aboot gittin mair brass oot o't' oald jolly jist. But I thowte to me-sel', thinks I, I've deun many a dafter thing nor tak' him at his wurd, whedder he meen't it or nut, an' sooa thowte, sooa deun; for neist mwornin' I woak't me-sel' off tull Skeal-hill."
"When I gat theear, an' as't if t' jolly jist was sturrin', they yan snurtit an' anudder gurn't, till I gat rayder maddish; but at last yan o' them skipjacks o' fellows 'at ye see weearin' a lal jacket like a lass's bedgoon, sed he wad see. He com back laughin', an' said, 'Cum this way, Joe.' Well, I follow't him till he stopp't at a room dooar, an' gev a lal knock, an' than oppen't it, an' says, 'Joe, sur,' says he. I wasn't ga'n to stand that, ye knows, an' says I, 'Joe, sur,' says I, 'hee'll ken it's Joe, sur,' says I, 'as seun as he sees t' feace o' me,' says I; an' if thoo doesn't git oot o' that wid thy 'Joe, sur,' says I, 'I'll fetch the' a clink under t' lug 'at 'll mak' the' laugh at t' wrang side o' that ugly mug o' thine, thoo gurnin' yap, thoo!' Wid that he skipt oot o' t' way gaily sharp, an' I step't whietly into t' room. Theear he was, sittin' at a teable writin' - t' grey hair, t' specks, t' lang nwose, t' white hankecher, an' t' black cleas, o' just as if he'd niver owder doff't his-sel' or donn't his-sel sen he went away. But afooar I cud put oot my hand or say a civil wurd tul him, he glentit up at me throo his specks, iv his oan oald sideways fashion - but varra feurce-like - an gruntit oot sum'at aboot wunderin' hoo I dar't to shew my feace theear. Well! this pot t' cap on t' top of o'. I'd chow't ower what fadder said, an' hoo he'd said it, i' my rwoad doon, till I fund me-sel' gittin rayder mad aboot that. T' way 'at they snurtit an' laugh't when I com to Skeal-hill mead me madder; an' t' bedgoon cwoatit fellow wid his 'Joe, sur,' mead me madder nor iver; but t' oald jolly jist, 'at I thowte wad be sa fain to see me agean, if 't hed no'but been for t' seak of oor sprogue on t' fells togidder - wunderin' 'at I dar't show my feace theear, fairly dreav me rantin' mad, an' I dud mak a brust."
"'Show my feace!' says I, 'an' what sud I show than?' says I. 'If it cums to showin' feaces, I've a better feace to show nor iver belang't to yan o' your breed,' says I, 'if t' rest on them's owte like t' sample they've sent us; but if ye mun know, I's cum't of a stock 'at niver wad be freenen't to show a feace till a king, let alean an oald newdles wid a creuk't nwose, 'at co's his-sel' a jolly jist: an' I defy t' feace o' clay,' says I, 'to say 'at any on us iver dud owte we need sham on whoariver we show't oor feaces. Dar to show my feace, eh?' says I; 'my song! but this is a bonny welcome to give a fellow 'at's cum't sa far to see ye i' seckan a mwornin'!' I said a gay deal mair o' t' seam mak', an' o' t' while I was sayin' on't - or, I sud say, o' t' while I was shootin' on'y, for I dudn''t spar' t' noise - t' oald thief laid his-sel' back iv his girt chair, an' keept twiddlin' his thooms, an' glimin' up at me, wid a hoaf smurk iv his feace, as if he'd gitten sum'at funny afooar him. Efter a while I stopt, for I'd ron me-sel' varra nar oot o' winnd, an' I begon rayder to think sham o' shootin' an' bellerin' sooa at an oald man, an' him as whisht as a troot throo it o'; an' when I'd poo't in, he just said as whietly as iver, 'at I was a natteral cur'osity. I dudn't ken weel what this meen't, but I thowte it was soace, an' it hed like to set me off agean, but I beatt it doon as weel as I cud, an' I said, 'Hev ye gitten owte agean me?' says I. 'If ye hev, speak it oot like a man, an' divn't sit theear twiddlin' yer silly oald thooms an' coa'in fwoke oot o' the'r neams i' that rwoad!' Than it o' com oot plain aneuf. O' this illnater was just acoase I hedn't brong him t' steans 'at he'd gedder't on t' fells het day; an' he said changin' on them was ayder a varra durty trick or a varra clumsy jwoke. 'Trick!,' says I. 'Jwoke! dud ye say? It was rayder past a jwoke to expect me to carry a lead o' brocken steans o' t' way here, when ther' was plenty at t' spot. I's nut sec a feul as ye've tean me for.' He tok off his specks, an' he glower't at me adoot them; an' than he pot them on agean, an' gloweer't at me wid them; an' then he laugh't an' ax't me if I thowte ther' cud be nea difference i' steans. 'Whey,' says I, 'ye'll hardly hev t' feace to tell me 'at ya bag o' steans isn't as gud as anudder bag o' steans - an' suerlye to man, ye'll niver be sa consaitit as to say ye can break steans better nor oald Aberram 'at breaks them for his breid, an' breaks them o' day lang, an' ivery day?'"
"Wid that he laugh't agean an' telt me to sit doon, an' than ax't me what I thowte mead him tak so mickle truble laitin' bits o' stean on t' fells if he cud git what he wantit at t' rwoad side. 'Well!' says I, 'if I mun tell ye t' truth, I thowte ye war rayder nick't i' t' heid; but it mead nea matter what I thowte sa lang as ye pait me sa weel for gan wid ye.' As I said this, it com into my heid 'at it's better to flaitch a feul nor to feight wid him; an' efter o', 'at ther' may'd be sum'at i't' oald man likin' steans o' his oam breakin' better nor udder fwoke's. I remember't t' fiddle 'at Dan Fisher mead, an' 'at he thowt, his-sel', was t' best fiddle 'at iver squeak't, for o' it mead ivery body else badly to hear't; an' wad bray oald Ben Wales at his dancin' scheul boal acoase Ben wadn't play t' heam mead fiddle asteed o' his oan. We o' think meast o' what we've hed a hand in oorsel's - it's no'but natteral; an' sooa as o' this ron throo my heid, I fund me-sel' gitten rayder sworry for t' oald man, an' I says, 'What wad ye gi' me to git ye o' yer oan bits o' stean back agean?' He cock't up his lugs at this, an' ax't me if his speciments, as he co't them, was seaf. 'Ey,' says I, 'they're seaf aneuf; neabody hereaboot 'ill think a lal lock o' steans worth meddlin' on, sa lang as they divn't lig i' the'r rwoad.' Wid that he jumpt up an' said I mud hev sum'at to drink. Thinks I to me-sel', 'Cum! we're gittin' back to oor oan menseful way agean at t' lang last, but I willn't stur a peg till I ken what I's to hev for gittin' him his rubbish back. I wad niver hear t' last on't if I went heam em'ty handit.' He mead it o' reet, hooiver, as I was tackin' my drink; an' he went up t' stair an' brong doon t' ledder bags I kent sa weel, an' geh me them to carry just as if nowte hed happen't, an' off we startit varra like as we dud afooar."
"T' Skeal-hill fwoke o' gedder't aboot t' dooar to leuk efter us, as if we'd been a show. We, nowder on us, mindit for that, hooiver, but stump't away togidder as thick as inkle weavers till we gat till t' feut of oor girt meedow, whoar t' steans was liggin, aside o' t' steel, just as I'd teem't them oot o' t' bags, only rayder grown ower wid gurse. As I pick't them up, yan by yan, an' handit them to t' oald jolly jist, it dud my heart gud to see hoo pleas't he leuk't, as he wiped them on his cwoat cuff, an' wettit them, an' glower't at them throo his specks - an' pack't them away into t' bags till they wer beath chock full agean'"
"Well! t' bargin was, 'at I sud carry them to Skeal-hill. Sooa back we pot - t' jolly jist watchin' his bags o' t' way as if t' steans was guineas, an' I was a thief. When we gat theear, he mead me tak' them reet into t' parlour: an' t' furst thing he dud was to co' for sum reed wax an' a leet, an' clap a greet splatch of a seal on t' top of ayder bag; an' than he leuk't at me, an' gev a lal grunt of a laugh, an' a smartish wag of his heid, as much as to say, 'Dee it agean, if thoo can, Joe!' But efter that he says, 'Here, Joe,' says he, 'here five shillin' for restworin' my speciments, an' here anudder five shillin' for showin' me a speciment of human natur' 'at I didn't believe in till today.' Wid that, we shak't hands an' we partit; an' I went heam as pleas't as a dof wi' two tails, jinglin' my munny an' finndin' sum way as if I was hoaf a jolly jist me-sel'. When I gat theear, I says to fadder, 'Fadder,' says I, 'leuk ye here! if o' yer jibes turn't to sec as this, I divn't mind if ye jibe on till ye've jibed yer-sel' intul a tip's whorn,' says I; nut I reckon ye niver jibed to sec an end for yer-sel' as ye've jibed for me this time!'"
item:-  JandMN : 576
Image © see bottom of page

evidence:-   outline view:- Red Guide 1892
source data:-   Print, engraving, pair of outline views, Mountains as seen from Whinlatter, and Mountains as seen from the Road from Scale Hill to Loweswater, near the Mile Post, published by Ward, Lock and Co, Warwick House, Salisbury Square, London, etc, 1892.
image  click to enlarge
"1 Whiteside 2 Grassmoor 3 Whitless Pike 4 Robinson 5 Buttermere Moss 6 Honister Crag 7 Rannerdale Knot 8 Green Gable 9 Great Gable / Haystacks (below) 10 Scawfell Middle Pike / Scarf gap (below) 11 Kirk Fell 12 High Crag 13 High Stile 14 Bleaberry Tarn (below) 15 Red Pike 16 Melbreak"
On p.158 in the Red Guide guide book, Guide to the English Lakes. 
item:-  JandMN : 102.5
Image © see bottom of page

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