Dear Motley Crew,
Why is it, do you think, that a group of Protestants who were fleeing religious persecution in the Czech Republic would come to establish a community in Manchester, England? The first part is self-evident of course, but the second part is a bit of a mystery. As perplexing as it seems, however, this is indeed what occurred and, in 1785, the Moravian Church, which was one of the first Protestant churches, put down roots not five miles from Manchester.
The settlement was completely self-contained; they grew their own food, made their own clothes, and their children were educated within the community. Education was considered a very important part of the Moravian culture.
This is the original College
building
The doorways and windows of many of the houses are decorated with these beautiful arches. Unsurprisingly, the village compound, with its gas lights and cobbled streets, has been used as a set for numerous movies and series, including Peaky Blinders
The houses are not able to be purchased – the church holds all deeds – but you can rent here, as long as you are approved of, by a church committee, as a person of sound morals and ethics.
Protestant churches – both internally and externally – tend to be plain with little decoration so as not to distract worshippers. This one is no exception
The cemetery contains only flat headstones, all of which are numbered
Once again, we had found surprising things in unexpected places.
Our plan from here was to investigate the Peak Forest Canal as the Bosley locks were still under repair. Getting there was going to be hard work though, as it meant climbing the Marple Locks, a flight of 16 locks that are among the deepest narrow-locks in the country. Over the course of just a mile, they raise the canal by 209 feet or 64 metres – that’s a 1 in 26 gradient. The day we tackled it, it was, of course, raining. At some stage of the ascent, with the rain dripping off the end of my nose, I recalled my trepidation earlier in the year, about tackling the Hatton Locks. How attitudes change with experience I thought. We reached the top looking, and feeling, like two drowned rats, and moored up at the first likely-looking spot along the canal.
The canal is beautiful – shallow it has to be said – but perhaps that’s to slow you down so that you can take in the view of the hills and the Sett Valley.
Large factories now began to appear more frequently along the banks of the canal and I remembered that this region had been home to the cotton industry which had given employment to much of the local population. Gazing up at these immense buildings reminded me of Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel North and South, in which she detailed the harsh and dangerous conditions endured by the workers, many of whom, of course, were children. Profit over health; some things never seem to change.
History also records that a group of textile workers, whose businesses were being devastated by the wholesale mechanisation of industries, rebelled against the advances by raiding and destroying the factories and machinery. They were, of course, the Luddites, who viewed all things mechanical as the enemy of skills and crafts. I appreciate their frustration – there are days I’d also like to take to my technologically-advanced multiple devices with a sledgehammer.
These factories are enormous and stunningly beautiful
In an earlier life, this factory made wicks for miner’s lamps. It’s now the home of Swizzles-Matlow confectionary works, makers of cavity-inducing sweeties, and its presence can be smelt along the canal long before it comes into view.
We pulled on our wellies and took to the footpaths where we discovered both familiar objects and scenes .....
and unfamiliar ones ......
What in heaven's name is this?
Some of us worked out their intended purpose fairly quickly! Yes, they are pee stone, put in place just before the above church, so that the workers who had walked from across the valley, could make it through the service and the sermon in comfort! Clearly, only men went to church in those days.
Quiet, slow and beautiful
We immediately pictured a large, hairy creature with gnashing teeth astride a broomstick, and worriedly scanned the skies. The danger, it turns out, is on the ground
The Peak Forest Canal is an arm canal, and at its terminus, our goal, Bugsworth or Buxworth Basin, better known by the locals as Buggy Basin. It was once a busy inter-change with the Peak Forest Tramway and used in the transportation of limestone and burnt lime. Apparently, the loaded wagons, under the “control” of a brakeman and his “nipper”, ran down to the basin by gravity alone. It is reported that derailments were not uncommon.
Each morning, as the weather has begun to cool down, one of us bounds out of bed and turns on the Eberspacher – a machine that is responsible for heating the radiators and also providing us with hot water on the days that we’re standing still. On the morning after we arrived at the start of the Peak Forest Canal, a particularly cold and wet morning, the Eberspacher started up, emitted an unfamiliar rattle, and then with a sad groan, switched off. The header tank, we noticed with alarm, was empty of its coolant – of course it was, because it was spreading in a blue arc across the carpet. The one piece of good news was that the leak in the pipe was in the first, and most accessible place that we looked. The two corresponding pieces of bad news were that our Eberspacher now appeared to be dead; no more and had ceased to be. It was expired and gone to meet its maker! The second issue was that no one would come out to fix it. “Unbolt it and bring it in mate” they told us “and we’ll get to it in a couple of days”. Finally, a local mechanic, who was also a boatie, took pity on us. “Can’t have you freezing to death in this weather” he said, and so he turned up with a bag of tools, rectified the fault, and did a service to boot. We are now toasty and warm again and enjoying hot showers. What a hero.
Now all we have to do is to dry out the carpet and get rid of the stain
The word was out that the repair work to Bosley Locks had been successful, and so we hastily headed back along the Peak Forest and turned onto the Macclesfield Canal.
Again, we were met with the more stunning cotton mills. Apparently, the manufacture of cotton goods was located here in the north due to the ready availability of coal as a source of power, and the plentiful supplies of soft water for washing and dyeing the cloth. The canals also provided ready transportation for raw materials and finished goods.
The bridges on the Macclesfield Canal are also stunning and the crossover or roving bridges seem to curl in on themselves so perfectly – they just feel and look right.
Is it a Fibonacci thing do you think?
We were now working to a timetable – we needed to get through the locks and the proposed closures by the beginning of November and we had already lost a good deal of time due to the Bosley closure. "It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!" So we did just that and ploughed on doggedly, now doing seven-hour days in mostly wet weather with no time to stop for lunch. Finally, we reached the end of the Macclesfield Canal where we would join up with the Trent and Mersey.
Now how is this going to work? We’re up here, and we need to be down there
It seems you take two left-hand turns and then a right, and there you are. And indeed, there we were, in the holding basin outside Harecastle Tunnel. The rusty colour of the water was a surprise - it seems that it's caused by leaching of the ironstone layers inside the tunnel.
The arched guides hanging at the entrance to the tunnel indicate the lowest ceiling levels ot be encountered along its length. Ducking of heads is mandatory otherwise death will follow!
The tunnel on the left – Telford’s tunnel – is the one we’re to travel through. Both tunnels were used until 1914 but after they had issues with subsidence, Brindley’s tunnel was closed to navigation.
Telford’s tunnel is 2,926 yards in length, 14 feet in breadth, and it runs under the 640 feet (195 metres) Harecastle Hill. It was originally built to replace Brindley's and assist with the transport of coal used in the Staffordshire Potteries kilns.
Boat fumes in the tunnel are removed by a series of extraction fans and for these to function, steel doors at either end of the tunnel are closed during passage. You don’t actually want to think too much about the fact that you’re locked into a long, dark space 650 feet underground. I think the person you can see at Matanuska’s front window has thought about it too much and changed his mind about the journey!
We moored here overnight and set off the next morning with three other boats, emerging blinking like moles, into the watery sunlight 35 minutes later. Another six hours of cruising and locking lay ahead of us with just over a week to go until the stoppages blocked our way. No time to waste!
These images are just for your enjoyment. The first, which I'll leave you to peruse, was from a butcher shop in Lymme; the second, Show Me the Monet, by the irrepressible Banksy, could have been a commentary on the canals above Birmingham.
The Captain, The Commodore and The Cat
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