New homes lead to cross words

Beryl Richardson’s father Bob Carter, left, inspects the stone on Seymour Hill Loftus, which became the trouble-hit Westfield Estate. Reverend John Theobald is on the right, with a Mr Colari from Cleveland Museums in the middle.

Last week when I wrote about a mystery carved stone I had found on a regular walking route, I mentioned Beryl Richardson who comes from Skelton-in-Cleveland. She had a theory about my stone: “The measurements suggest it could be part of an ancient gate post or boundary marker. Some similar to this are on the North York Moors and relate to the boundaries between landowners’ estates.”

She mentioned that her late father, Bob Carter, who came from Loftus, spent many days looking for these boundary stones which he then included in local history talks.

Since then, Beryl has sent me a copy of a photograph, seen here, of her father and a similar carved stone with a mystery attached to it, which makes another interesting-stone related story that readers might be able to flesh out for me.

Beryl is not sure of the exact date of the photo which shows her father Bob, who is touching the stone, alongside a Mr Colari from Cleveland Museums (middle) and on the right, the Reverand John Theobald, Rector of Loftus.

She explains that her father believed this stone to have originally been a cross because it showed traces of a type of lime mortar which would have been used to fix the cross head in place. However, that had long gone. “The old stone cross on Seymour Hill, Loftus, was shown on an Ordnance Survey map from 1858 and was destroyed when building the Westfield Estate in 1974. My father believed the stone marked a burial site,” says Beryl. Her father asked the authorities concerned to open up the site before any houses were built so that they could inspect it for graves, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Beryl points out that the stone was in direct line of sight towards the Anglo-Saxon burial ground discovered at Street House Farm, three miles northeast of Loftus where 112 graves were found, including that of the ‘Saxon Princess’. It was an incredible archaeological discovery and included artefacts such as gold brooches and pendants and glass beads suggesting royal connections. These finds can now be seen at Kirkleatham Old Hall Museum in Redcar.

Beryl’s old photo must have accompanied a news story about the stone and judging from the piles of bricks and rubble in the background, was taken at the very start of development when the site was being cleared before building work began, which dates it to either late 1973 or early 1974.

The construction of 320 new council houses on Seymour Hill, which became the Westfield Estate, was highly controversial. The development cost the local authority £2.25m (around £21m today) and was dubbed ‘Colditz’ by some of the incoming tenants. The architect came in for a lot of criticism, not only for the general ugliness, but also for not having included back doors in some of the properties, meaning there was no secondary exit should a fire break out blocking the only external door. There were other complaints, such as only being able to hang out washing right outside the lounge window, doors locking automatically leaving children stranded outside, and no central heating upstairs.

In an article from the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette in October 1974 Rev Theobald, who was also a local councillor, described the situation as a ‘tragedy’. “During my calls on my new tenants as Rector of Loftus, people have drawn my attention to a number of factors which point to bad design – all of which are apparent to even the humblest layman,” he said.

I don’t know Loftus well and would welcome any information from people who do, to let me know whether the estate is still there, and if residents still have the same views as they did back in 1974. I do know that it was regenerated about 18 years ago.

It is not uncommon for housing developments to be built on ancient burial sites, but there are rules that developers have to adhere to in terms of respecting human remains and the heritage of any archaeological discovery.

Was the Westfield Estate built on an ancient burial site, as Bob Carter believed? If the local authorities and developers ignored or even destroyed evidence, such as the old cross, were the catalogue of troubles it experienced the ghosts from the past making their displeasure felt?

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 4th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 2nd July  2025

Beavering away to tackle flooding

Beavers have incredible skills when it comes to building dams (Picture: Forestry Commission)
A beaver dam that is part of the Slowing The Flow, Pickering project which embraces natural resources to help to prevent flooding downstream

 

I received a fascinating email from reader Mike Potter, who got in touch via my Countryman’s Daughter webpage (countrymansdaughter.com).

Mike told me that in 2008 he was part of a study with three universities to examine and improve flood management in the Calder Valley area. Named ‘Slow The Flow’ (STF), it evolved into a national charity which educates the public, government and private agencies in natural flood management, sustainable drainage systems and other renewable methods of managing and working with the environment. Living in a flood-prone yet beautiful county like North Yorkshire, we must applaud people like Mike and his colleagues, many of whom are volunteers.

Mike set up the ‘Slowing the Flow, Pickering’ scheme where they have embraced the amazing skills of beavers to build dams upstream from areas prone to flooding. These dams calm the water flow, meaning that when we have sudden and significant rainfall, they act as ‘brakes’ on the speed of the current, reducing the likelihood of devastating flooding further downstream. This approach has been remarkably successful and adopted elsewhere, as reported in this paper on a number of occasions.

Mike explained: “Slowing the Flow at Pickering is exploring new approaches to flood management, working with nature to try and store more water in the landscape and slow its passage downstream. Whilst this will not prevent all flooding, it is expected to reduce the frequency of future floods in Pickering, as well as deliver a range of other benefits to the local environment and community.”

On a slight tangent, Mike also wrote: “I‘ve just been ploughing through the transcript of a 2008 interview with Malcolm Shaw, a retired senior drainage board engineer, which mentioned that the River Ure changes its name to the Ouse below Swale Nab.”

This piqued his interest, and he found an article about it with a logical suggestion that OS map surveyors had created the error and that the name should really change at Swale Nab, which is the confluence of the Ure and Swale. “It would appear that this was Mr Shaw’s understanding too. That still didn’t explain the name change from Ure to Ouse though, but the article coincidentally referenced the interesting and plausible theory in one of your articles about the possible origin of the name York coming from Ure/Yore, and the reason for the two different river names.”

The article he was referring to was my column from way back in April 2021 where I wrote about the fact that the River Ure changes its name to the River Ouse a few miles south of Boroughbridge. Back then I said: “An unusual feature of the Ure is that after it passes a place called Cuddy Reach just west of the village of Linton-on-Ouse, it is thenceforth known as the River Ouse. Usually, when one river flows into another, it takes on the name of the main waterway. So when the rivers Swale and Nidd enter the Ure, that is where they end, and the water continues its south-eastern voyage under the name ‘Ure’.  However, when the water reaches Cuddy Reach, a seemingly insignificant stream called Ouse Gill Beck enters the Ure and in an audacious takeover, snatches the grander river’s name and from then on the waterway is known as the Ouse all the way down to the Humber. So why the name change?”

We still don’t know, but at the time I wondered if it was down to the Old Bretonnic language and the fact that the Ure stemmed from an old word meaning ‘fast-flowing’, and the Ouse from a word that meant ‘slow flowing’. Those familiar with the river know that up in the Dales, it runs fast but slows downs once it hits the lower plains of the Vale of York, and hence the two names reflect the change in character of the flowing water. I believe their origins lie in the oral evolution of the language spoken by those living around the river.

I just love stuff like this which can only come from readers like you getting in touch with me. I truly welcome your messages and will always reply. If you have written to me and think you’ve not had a response, please check your junk and spam email folders – or try me again

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 20th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 18th June 2025