Shooting Rabbits at Bilsdale – Extract from Ramble

This picture is possibly of Heavisides youngest son who was about 11 when they took a short holiday in Bilsdale – ”The farm is an ideal spot for a boy and our young nipper is never happier than when hunting for rabbits, attended by his favourite collie Watch. On one occasion he comes in with a rabbit in each hand and we should say it is one of the happiest moments of his young life”.

Heavisides Part 2 – Barnard Castle

From a Photo taken with a No. 5 Poco Camera by M. Heavisides. It is a charming afternoon when we set out to explore the far famed woods of Deepsdale. We cross Barney’s old stone bridge, turn to the right past the flax mills, and opposite to the girder bridge, which spans the Tees, enter a gateway. For about half a mile our way lies over open ground by the side of the stream. Hearing the sharp crack of a rifle, we see ahead of us a party of volunteers practising at the targets. Desiring to be out of harm’s way, we strike an upward path, but unexpectedly find ourselves at a stile which gives access to the fields. As we desire to be in the sheltered woods, for it is a scorching day, we descend amid the thick undergrowth with no little hurry as we hear sharp rifle reports from the shooting range not far distant. All goes well, however, and we gain a well-defined pathway, where we enjoy the cool and pleasant shade of the overhead foliage and listen to the merry song of Deepdale’s rill.

Heavisides Part 2 – Fairy Cupboards

From a Photo taken with a No. 5 Poco Camera by M. Heavisides At last we arrive at the Fairy Cupboards, and our presence is announced by a Cuckoo from a neighbouring tree. My young friends, greatly excited, step quickly down the ledges of rock on to the huge steps underneath, and old-fashionedly inspect the abode of the fairies. I follow, and gaze with deep-felt pleasure on the scene around. Overhead is a canopy of Spring’s young foliage, rendered almost transparent by the glinting rays of the sun piercing through, and turning around I watch the rush of the tumbling water as it breaks over the rocks in mid-stream. Next I critically inspect the curious formation of the Cupboards, and find they are held by rounded pillars, the result of the unceasing workings of Nature for thousands of years. Little Gladys, who is nearby, turns her head to me, and in her child-like innocent and witching manner, exclaims, “See what a little hole they go in!� I next assist my companions to climb the ledges and retrace our steps to Wooden Croft.

Heavisides Part 2 – Cauldron Snout

From a Photo taken with a No. 5 Poco Camera by M. Heavisides. Moving on again, Meldon Fell, a fine rounded mountain, comes prominently into view. Here I pass an old toll-house near a cottage, and am in full view of the first guide-post which directs the way to Cauldron Snout. On again, stepping from stone to stone to avoid the numerous pools and treacherous soft places, I soon reach the famous Cauldron Snout. I first view the weird scene from the wooden plank bridge then carefully step from rock to rock, survey it from below the final fan-like cascade, from which position my photograph is secured. Above the fall, the Tees makes a sharp turn, rushing furiously down the weather-beaten walls of basalt, where, leaping from rock to rock, the water is churned until it becomes whiter and whiter; and by the time it reaches the cataract it is snowy white. The fall is 200 feet.

Heavisides Part 2 – Dairy Bridge

From a Photo taken with a No. 5 Poco Camera by M. Heavisides. We turn down a lane on our left while in sight of the lodge-gates of Rokeby Hall, and are soon at ivy-wreathed Dairy Bridge. Leaving our cycles, we carefully step down among the rocks, to view the wondrous scene that Turner lavished his skill upon. This is my second visit this morning, as with camera I made the journey early, so as to catch the sun’s rays on the fair scene. After cooling our hands in Greta’s stream, we step from rock to rock to the Meeting of the Tees and the Greta — a wild yet pleasing view. Cautiously climbing over the great rocks, we regain the road, pass through the gateway by the side of Dairy Bridge, ascend some steep ground, and have Mortham Tower before us.

Whitby and his Donkey

Extract from Heavisides Almanack 1910; readers of the present day can scarcely have forgot Whitby the cabman. Said to come from that port, he was employed by various cab proprietors in this town, first with one and then the other. He was sort of Handy-Andy and one, who if possible to make a mistake or blunder he could do it, and often very amusing ones too. To recapitulate the apparently ridiculous actions for this individual would fill a good sized volume, as his life seemed wholly or nearly so, made up of mischief and nonsense.

Photograph from the Heavisides Collection