1950-2021 Fron Lift Bridge, Froncysyllte Llangollen. This one hurt my head as I couldn't for the life of me work out the perspective of the original image, as the counter-weight lift seemed an entirely different shape, until I realised it had been rebuilt in steel around 1990, having previously been timber since the early 1800's, when it was the terminus of the Lllangollen Branch of the Shropshire Canal whilst the ten year construction of the adjacent Pontcysyllte aqueduct took place. The lift allowed small traffic access to dwellings and industrial facilities on the opposite bank. It still provides the same function to this day, some 200 years later - one person must jump off the boat in order to wind the mechanism up and down letting another steer the boat through the open gate before chasing it down and jumping back onboard to continue the journey either to or from Llangollen.
Then & Now 2016-2020. Cheshire county constabulary, Oakmere. Built in 1892. Originally containing a courthouse, police station and rows of cells. Closed down in 1987, it had been derelict longer than I had been alive. For three years it sat in the middle of a new build housing site crumbling away as a reminder of the more isolated community that once existed here. To my surprise when passing i had to do a double take before realising it had been extensively refurbished into five dwellings. Turns out, it was part of the deal of the sale of the land. I do love it when developers are forced to use their skills for restoration. There won't be anything left of it inside, but this is a better fate for the building than most.
Built in 1834 using local stone under a pitched slate roof, this church in Greater Manchester once served a bustling industrial town at a time when christian congregation was still at the forefront of English communities. The architect was Lewis Vulliamy, of the famous clock-making family, who used a simple Gothic ‘preaching box’ design with an eight bay nave and three sided gallery. Fast forward nearly two centuries, however and the architecture may have survived but the social landscape has vastly changed. Congregations across towns like this barely fill seats on what used to be fully attended services. The result is that despite its listed status and architectural merit, growing maintenance costs of more than a quarter of a million pounds has inevitably led to the Church of England putting it up for sale, along with several dozen former places of worship across the country in order to fight back against the accruement of debt as it looks to survive into the modern era.
Unfortunately it is unlikely that much of its brilliant interior craftsmanship will survive, as in december 2020 proposals were submitted to be appropriated for residential use alongside hundreds of churches across Britain that are now finding new life as homes, apartments, offices, bars and shops. Despite the fact that the governments Listed Places of Worship Grant Scheme provides a VAT exemption for the church to maintain its 12,500 listed buildings, its focus has now turned to protecting its wealth instead, with riches wearing thin as outgoings now reach 90% of its $1 billion annual endowments. As it draws closer to becoming nothing more than a registered business, in the not so distant future, all that will be left of a once-dominant faith will be perhaps its most valuable contribution of all - its architectural heritage. With a need to be recycled in order to survive, witnessing these buildings in their original state intended for worship may become an extreme rarity in our lifetime.
Leasowe Lighthouse on the Wirral Peninsula near Mockbeggar Wharf, built in 1763 to guide shipping safely to the Port of Liverpool through the treacherous route into the River Mersey known as 'rock channel'. Originally coal-fired before being changed to oil burning, with eight Argand lamps and reflectors, it is the oldest brick built lighthouse in the UK. Eventually the line of approach taken by ships had altered due to shifting sandbanks so the lighthouse became obsolete and was closed in 1908, with BIdston lighthouse further inland carrying on duties for a further 5 years. The lighthouse was also a home, and the last keeper was a Mrs. Williams, the only known female lighthouse keeper of the period. After its closure she kept the lighthouse open as a tearoom during the summer months until she died in 1935 and the building was closed. It has been disused ever since, and now remains as a monument on the northernmost edge of the peninsula, having had a brief period of restoration to prevent it from crumbling due to the harsh weather of the Irish sea.
The two crossings at Sutton weaver, between them marks the very south eastern edge of Halton borough. Since 1732 this stretch of the river weaver has been man-made, and was constructed as part of the weaver navigation to quickly allow passing trade from the east to reach Weston docks in Runcorn, where it could enter the mersey en route to Liverpool, or continue to Weston canal, and eventually to the Bridgewater canal en route to Manchester. This continuous loop sadly ended when the top locks in dukesfield were abandoned in 1966. Despite the Weston canal no longer existing, the ship canal still provides the route, and should the unlock runcorn project come to fruition, this loop would be revived once again.
During the post-medieval period numerous industries grew around the port of Frodsham including a salt works which was established in the late seventeenth century. However, a bill was passed in 1721, known as the Weaver Navigation Act, to enable the river to be navigable further inland toward the town. This was due to pressure from traders and manufacturers as the movement of goods from Frodsham port by packhorse inland was proving to be costly. By 1732 the Weaver was made fully navigable, but it was not until 1780 that Frodsham Lock and Cut were constructed as improvements to the navigation. The Wharf and its facilities encouraged more industry after the construction of the Weaver Navigation in the early eighteenth century.
Frodsham Cut was built in the late eighteenth century as an improvement to the existing natural rivers route saving time by 'cutting' through the marsh hence the name, and creating a docking point of sorts closer to Frodsham. The lock was necessary as the river was tidal prior to the building of the Manchester ship canal where it now begins at Weston Point rather than at the Mersey, but by the early nineteenth century the cut itself had been by-passed by the Weaver Canal to the north, which was much wider and could facilitate larger vessels. The lock slowly fell out of use as the occasional local traffic also began to prioritise the newer and quicker navigation route to the north. The sluice gate was therefore added in 1908 shortly after the above photo, presumed to be around 1900. Its purpose was to maintain the level of the cut and in turn the canal in the absence of regular use of the lock, and it still remains in unattended use silently allowing water to pass through. Since the lock closed, the entire southern route of the weaver that runs closer to Frodsham has been unnavigable, with the large sluice gates joining the northern route at Sutton having no locks for passing vessels meaning the western side of the cut remains a dead-end. The lock keepers cottages seen in the 1900 image were therefore demolished in due course. The lock may be heavily derelict, but it remains as one of the oldest canal locks in Britain, and together with the weir gained listed status in 1980 to protect their history from removal.
1950-2019. The Littlewoods printing room, Liverpool. Shown in the years immediately following WW2 when its huge halls were used to accommodate the production of aircraft during the war, when giant presses were brought in to print millions of pools coupons across the UK. Here in the printing room, pools coupons and literature were printed 'in house' by littlewoods and sent out by post. Up to 16 million per week were returned to check for the winners, until it was overtaken in popularity by the National Lottery and closed in 2003. A couple of years ago a fire ravaged through much of the building, but plans are still in place to restore this colossal building into a media centre to serve the fast-growing film industry in the city.
An 18th century Cheshire corn mill, disused but one of only a few that survive here from an era when there was more than 150 dotted around the county's landscape. Its many rivers, brookes and canals having provided pre-industrial power for what was predominantly an agricultural region for many centuries, making them even more common than petrol stations today. Whilst the natural flow of water was once to our benefit, as we speak this winter the waterways, many of which have now been altered to accommodate the expansion of new towns, have been flooding across the north after having to deal with several months rain in the space of 2 days.
1905-2020. Solomons temple, standing on the site where Buxton's extensive lime quarrying first began in the 1600's. Kilns were once spread here all over Grin Low Hill, leaving spoil heaps of waste material that permanently shaped the land. The tower is sentimentally named locally after Solomon Mycock, who in the early 19th century built the original tower. By the late 1800's the hill had been exhausted of materials and the quarry abandoned for decades. Only a few stones remained of the tower, so the community came together to have it completely reconstructed, finishing in 1896. Over time it became a popular beauty spot, with views from the top to Mam Tor, Rushup Edge, Corbar Hill, Corbar Cross and in the opposite direction to Axe Edge. What I love so much about this view is how little has changed in 115 years - you could almost pretend no time had passed at all. The white plaque reading CPRC inside the tower was installed to indicate the presence of The campaign to protect rural england, established in 1926.
Scout tunnel's south portal. Built in the late 1700's for the Huddersfield narrow canal, which fully opened in 1811, enabling coal to be brought in to fuel the mills which were now steam-powered. The 615 foot Scout Tunnel had to be cut through sturdy gritstone and shales, meaning the majority of the tunnel is bare rock but for two openings. Nowadays the tow-path gains far more use than the canal, and as the name would suggest, doesn't give much room for social distancing once you reach half way and bump into a stranger in the dark.The name Scout comes from the old norse ‘skœti’ meaning overhanging rock, and the narrow gorge which the tunnel was carved through met these scout rocks looming over the River Tame below.
1894-2020. Woolton Convalescent Home, aka Liverpool Convalescent Institution. Built from the surplus of the city's fund for the relief of the cotton famine in 1862, and designed by Thomas Worthington. Its purpose was to house inmates recovering after treatment across Liverpool's many hospitals. In 1882, it carried about 120 beds with both women’s and men’s wards. It has strong sentimental ties to William Gladstone, Liverpool's proud statesman and prime minister in the late 1890's. The central section of apartments have wide staircases that give access to the "Gladstone Hall," which is of the same area as the dining-hall below, and was built with funds raised in Liverpool as a memorial to the ex- Premier. In later years it naturally became a care home, and surprise surprise was shut down a few years ago after being rated inadequate. Grade II listed, it stood derelict until recently, but under new ownership is now being renovated into a private and no doubt pricey retirement complex. It may not be the most glamorous of futures but it's a future nonetheless!
Standing in isolation at the end of its raised grassy causeway, St Peulans church on Anglesey is said to have been founded by St Peulan himself in the 6th century. The current church dates from the 12th century and retains a rectangular Norman stone font of great significance. St Peulan’s was vested into the care of The friends of friendless churches in 2004, after it had been declared redundant. Saving it from a period of inevitable ruin, it now joins many lucky churches across Britain that are now in the hands of a charity that preserves their priceless heritage as we head further into an era that no longer requires places of worship in these isolated places. If you ever need to restore a little faith in humanity, divert your journey if you might be nearby one of these little places. ( and don't forget to pop something into the donations box! )
Henry VIII, the original medieval Donald Trump, ordered the destruction of Britain's Catholic abbeys in the 1500's so he could womanise as he pleased. His demolition crews weren't always thorough, and rarely paid much attention to the hidden relics that surrounded the main buildings. In the woods above the ruins of Haughmond Abbey, a well house was built over the spring that supplied the Abbey's water. The sources of the abbey's water supply were on the hill to the east, and one was protected by this well house which still stands, and a complex system of channels and ponds brought water down the hillside and controlled its flow through the abbey buildings. The fact that it's survived so well just goes to show that Britain would still be boasting it's brilliant Abbeys to this day if it wasn't for that fat head-chopping lunatic.
A remnant of ''The Royal Commission on the Defence of the United Kingdom', established in 1859 in response to a perceived threat of invasion from France's Napoleon. Whom it was believed posed a danger of an amphibious landing in Pembrokeshire as part of a wider threat to the security of Britain. A chain of coastal artillery forts was designed, but ultimately only this fort at Tenby was constructed. The government compulsory purchased St Catherine's Island for construction, and undertook the mammoth task of lifting solid granite blocks onto the island to build the fortress. It was, however destined for alteration. The gun shields were finally installed in 1886, and in that year, a report to the Defence Committee described the 9 inch guns as "useless". It never saw military action, and by 1907 it had already been decommissioned and converted into a lavish private residence. Since then it has been re-garrisoned twice and used as an anti aircraft battery in both world wars, turned back into a private home, and converted into a fully fledged zoo, which left the fort derelict after its closure in the late 70's, prompting a lengthy wait until it was restored and opened to the public around five years ago. A colourful history to say the least..
Just kidding. No diving advised. It's actually brine, imported from Lostock in Northwich via pipelines established in the 1880s and stored in the Weston Brine Reservoirs on the site of the old quarries, to be channelled down to Weston point where it's used in the production of caustic soda and chlorine. The site resembles much of weston point in that it's functional but almost entirely void of aesthetic maintenance. A trademark of most relics that exist from the ICI era.
Errwood Hall, Goyt Valley. The original photograph was taken in the years during Mary Grimshawe-Gosselin's ownership of Errwood. When she died on 23rd February 1930, she was the last surviving descendant of the Grimshawe family. Plans for Stockport Corporation to compulsory purchase the estate to build the twin reservoirs were already well advanced, and the sale went through within a matter of weeks of Mary’s death. All items inside the italianate mansion were auctioned off, and the land beneath the hall flooded to generate water supply for nearby industrial towns. The crumbled remains of Errwood hall still stand above the valley today.
Soldier’s Point House. Built for Charles Rigby in 1849, government contractor for the infamous Holyhead breakwater’s construction. He was an Anglesey magistrate and commanded the 2nd Anglesey Artillery Volunteers. In 1918 the house’s next owner Lieut AF Pearson was charged with hoarding food including rice, jam and sugar. The charges were dropped after he explained that wounded soldiers were treated to tea at the house every Sunday. Despite only being built in a castellated style, due to its seafront position part of the building was reinforced during the 2nd World War to form a defensive 'pillbox', with narrow openings for gunfire. Its most recent use was as a hotel, but sadly after closure the building was damaged by fire in 2012 and the future of the remains hang in question despite being listed.
Shepherds Monument, Staffordshire. Built in 1748, it is not the oldest but is perhaps the most mysterious in the series to date. Below a mirror image of Nicolas Poussin's painting of the Shepherds of Arcadi, the letters O U O S V A V V, between the letters D M are carved on the 18th-century monument. It has never been satisfactorily explained, and remains to be one of the world's top uncracked cyphertexts. Reference was made to the monument in the pseudohistorical book 'The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail', which inspired Dan Brown's infamous Da Vinci Code. In 2004 a project was founded where a group of former members of the top secret wartime Bletchley Park code breakers attempted to decode the connection between the monument and the holy grail. Despite the fact that organisers had their own favoured theories, no conclusive answer ever emerged, and the cyphertext remains a total mystery.
Charles Darwin visited Cwm Idwal in 1831, and observed that the large scattered boulders at Llyn Idwal lake contained marine seashells. He realised that the rocks must have formed within an ancient ocean, and therefore had been later uplifted to the surface by forces within the Earth’s crust. He later found that the landscape of Cwm Idwal was shaped by glaciers, at a time when Wales was far colder than it is today, more than 10,000 years ago.
There are few places in England where you'll find a better example of our early industrial connection with the land around us than the millstones of the peak district. Seen hidden amongst the grass and bracken for miles around, they typically date from the 18th and 19th Century and were once widely used for grinding grains into flour, designed for use in the water, wind and steam mills of the north at places like Hawarden corn mill. Carved from millstone grit rock by quarrymen directly beneath the cliffs such as these here at stanage edge, on average they span around 2 metres, and can weigh nearly 4 tonnes, which makes the task of getting them down from such a remote location onto transport and across the country even more astounding. When traditional milling in Britain began to die down following the industrial revolution, many of the millstones in production were dumped as they were on the vast open landscape, beneath cliffs or along tracks as if dropped en route to their destination. With no reason to carry on through lack of demand, many have been left for more than a century as a constant reminder of the intimate connection we once had with the landscape here. They'll likely remain that way for centuries to come.