The last resting place for the Dales

This is in direct contrast to another book, published in 1900, which says that Grinton is perhaps the most fascinating place in Swaledale, where its object of greatest interest is the ancient church.

Yet another book calls it a striking old church and indeed, I have heard it referred to as the Cathedral of the Dales.

Certainly it is ancient, with some references suggesting parts were built in the 12th century or possibly earlier, with many alterations since that time.

It was part of an original endowment by Bridlington Priory, being known as ecclesia de Swaledala, and was one of the largest parishes in the country. The church therefore became one of the most important in Swaledale.

It was to this church that corpses were carried by hand from the higher reaches of the dale, along a route that became known as the Corpse Way. The terrain was such that horse-drawn hearses and carts could not be used.

It is some time since I walked around Grinton church, but it is dedicated to St Andrew and has some curious points of interest that date to its long period as a Catholic church long before Henry VIII’s Reformation.

One is the hagioscope in the south-west corner. A hagioscope is nothing more than a strategically-placed hole in the church wall; in some places it was called a squint or even a peep-hole. Quite a large number of pre-Reformation churches have retained their squints, some being located in the porches.

Others have a view of their high altar or altars in side chapels, but the hagioscopes had many different uses.

One occurred when massgoers were suffering from highly contagious diseases.

Unwelcome inside the church, they could congregate outside to watch the celebration of mass at the high altar inside and so fulfil their spiritual obligations.

In a large church, the priests would use squints to co-ordinate the start of mass in different chapels and, at other times, a squint served as an aid to the watchmen who cared for the security of the building.

Some watchmen lived either in the porch or in a room above it, consequently some squints provided views of the entire building.

Grinton church is also known for its chained Bible which is inside St Andrew’s so that the inhabitants of Grinton parish can read it at any time, with one old notice saying the best time was just before the start of divine service.

Some commentators think the population of Grinton must have been rather dishonest if their church had to securely chain its own Bible.

I am sure they were all very honest – but we can’t be too sure of the honesty of passing thieves.

One of my notes says the Bible was placed there in 1752 and re-bound in 1864.

There are many family memorials in the old church, but one is of particular interest because it relates to the Swales, a noble family whose seat was Swale Hall.

This ancient family could trace its history to the time of the Norman Conquest and the first Lord of Swaledale was Alured de Swale, a nephew of John of Gaunt, who was a relation of William the Conqueror.

Some accounts of Swaledale suggest that this family gave its name to the dale. I think this is unlikely. Perhaps it gave its name to the river that flows from the hills, which in turns provides us with the name of Swaledale?

However, the Swales had a chequered history. William de Swale died during the Holy Wars, while another Swale was a commander at the Battle of Neville’s Cross.

Solomon Swale, a lawyer at Gray’s Inn in London and a Member of Parliament, made himself known by rising to his feet in Parliament and proposing the restoration of King Charles II. The following day Charles was proclaimed King and, for his services, Solomon Swale was created a baronet.

This heralded a rise in the fortunes of the Swale dynasty, with Sir Solomon being succeeded by his son, Sir Henry, and then by another Sir Solomon.

However, ownership problems arose about the Swale’s mansion known as Swale Hall. It seems that one of the Swale family, another Sir Solomon, entered a dispute with some local men about the true ownership of Swale Hall. Such was the length and complexity of the court hearing that Sir Solomon spent all his fortune on legal fees and died in debt in Fleet Prison in 1733.

With no property and only an empty title, the Swale family allowed the matter to lie in abeyance, but in 1877, Fr John Swale, a Benedictine monk, found himself head of the family and so laid a successful claim to the title. Thus he became Sir John Swale, and upon his death the title then passed to another John Swale who was landlord of an inn in Knaresborough.

When he died, the title passed to Benjamin Swale, an ironmonger of Knaresborough, who was succeeded by his brother, James, a farmer from Ribston in Nidderdale.

But they owned no property and their former estates are now owned by others in the Yorkshire Dales.

Many Swale family members are said to be buried at Grinton, but did they give their name to Swaledale?

Political landscape

ON THE topic of Swaledale, I have received an interesting letter from a reader at Spennithorne, near Leyburn.

He has sent a poem dated 1882 and written in the dialect of Swaledale.

It is In the Dales, and the character who features in it is a tenant farmer who is clearly struggling to make a living and is faced by threats from radicals who, it seems, want to abolish the gentry and curtail others who have made a success of their business lives.

But the farmer writes that, like the squire, he and his father before him always voted “blue”.

Although there is not space for the entire poem, I can include one verse which is very moving and which says a lot about the political landscape at that time, not to mention the care and consideration that landowners bestowed on their tenants.

This is the verse: Why it was nobbut last rent day, I couldn’t bring hauf I owed.

I know my heart was heavy, as I cam up t’road; But t’Squire, he speaks out hearty - ‘Noa man can fight t’weather.

We’ll wipe out t’score and start afresh, an’ sink or swim together.

The final verse records how the farmer does not want a political ballot, yet stresses he’s not afraid to vote.

I’ll go to t’poll wi’ my colours on; come pin ‘em tight on t’coat, and he ends the poem by saying, Call me early for t’poll – we’s blue, is me and t’Squire.

It a quite remarkable example of political thinking by a working man from the Dales and I thank my correspondent for sending it along.

Just a thought

AND finally, I’ve been sent this thought for the day: why do we park our car, worth thousands of pounds, on our drive, but store junk in the garage?