Returning to Stoodley Pike

Article by Chris Butterfield

Exploring Lakeland alongside Chris Jesty has given me invaluable insight into his approach to revising Wainwright’s Pictorial Guides. My initial introduction to Wainwright’s work came in 2013, when my wife, Priscilla and I completed our first long-distance walk, the Pennine Way. When recently discussing the Pennine Way Companion – Second Edition with Chris—particularly the section around Stoodley Pike—I learned that it had been almost 14 years to the day since he had last visited the area while working on the book.

Having lived in Mytholmroyd, Calderdale, during the early 1990s, Stoodley Pike was one of the first landmarks that familiarised me with the Pennine Way—though it would be another two decades before I walked its entire length. The South Pennines were my stomping grounds long before I discovered the beauty of the Lake District. For a decade, I explored almost every nook and cranny of the Calder Valley.

I saw this as an opportunity for Chris to revisit Stoodley Pike and relive his memories of working on the guides. He was enthusiastic, eager to see how much had changed over the intervening years. I also wanted to share with him one of my earliest walks—from Mytholmroyd to Todmorden via Stoodley Pike—a route that would also be new to him.

Chris revealed that he began the fieldwork for revising the Pennine Way Companion on Saturday, 8 May 2010, with a walk from East Marton to Gargrave. He completed the journey just over a year later, finishing at Hebble Hole near Hebden Bridge on Tuesday, 10 May 2011. Afterwards, he focused on the proofs, which extended until February 2012.

Chris and I met near Kendal early one morning in mid-October 2024. After just an hour on the road, the skies opened up, and torrential rain fell almost all the way to Calderdale. Things weren’t looking good, especially since I knew the visibility on the high ground above Todmorden would be even worse.

Fortunately, the rain eased as we descended into Hebden Bridge from Haworth, although a damp mist clung to the valley bottom. We made our way to Mytholmroyd and parked close to where I used to live. As a teenager, this had been my base for walking. In 1991, I bought Geoff Boswell’s On The Tops Around Todmorden. Some of the walks in that book required you to be extremely fit, especially the 26-mile Marathon Boundary Walk, which was brutal. I was fortunate to meet Geoff, who lives in a farmhouse above Todmorden and has a great view of Stoodley Pike from his garden.

I also purchased Mike Harding’s Walking the Peak and Pennines, a great introduction to the South Pennines. Chris Jesty had produced the maps for the book, though I didn’t know him at the time. Years later, both Mike and Chris kindly signed my copy. Ironically, Chris would eventually go on to create the maps for my first Wainwright book and calendar.

Walking this route to Stoodley Pike with Chris, a path I first walked over thirty years ago, felt surreal—especially since I had admired his work ever since discovering the maps in Mike’s book. From Mytholmroyd, we made our way up Erringden Moor via the steep climb of Daisy Bank. Unfortunately, the thick fog obscured any views as we gained height, so we put our heads down and pressed on.

At the top, we followed a walled path alongside Broad Head before reaching Erringden Moor. Despite the limited visibility, the Boundary Stones guided us through the moor. An eerie silence hung in the air, with not even a breath of wind—unusual for such an exposed landscape. Pointing through the mist to our left, I told Chris that in that direction lay the old Bell House, once home to ‘King’ David Hartley, the ill-fated leader of the Cragg Vale Coiners.

Eventually, we reached Dick’s Lane at the edge of the moor, near a stone ruin—likely an old farmstead. As we continued along the lane, we hoped to catch a glimpse of Stoodley Pike, but the cloud base remained stubbornly low. Then, ten minutes later, the unthinkable happened: the fog began to lift. Through a gap in the drystone wall, the outline of the Stoodley Pike monument slowly emerged. It seemed the gods were on our side after all.

We soon joined the Pennine Way, now familiar territory for Chris, and memories from 14 years ago came flooding back to him. On the short climb to the monument, we paused at the spring just off the path to compare the view with Wainwright’s drawing on page 138 of the Pennine Way Companion. Remarkably, almost nothing had changed.

After a few minutes, we finally reached our goal. It was even better than I had anticipated—I’d expected the usual strong gusts of wind at the edge of the pike, but instead, the clouds had lifted, and there was hardly a breeze. We spent a reasonable amount of time taking in the views from the monument’s balcony, where I pointed out several dates chiselled into the stone from the late 1800s that I had discovered on previous visits.

The inscription above the entrance to the spiral staircase to the balcony reads:

STOODLEY PIKE
A PEACE MONUMENT
ERECTED BY PUBLIC SUBSCRIPTION
COMMENCED IN 1814 TO COMMEMORATE
THE SURRENDER OF PARIS TO THE ALLIES
AND FINISHED AFTER THE BATTLE OF
WATERLOO WHEN PEACE WAS ESTABLISHED
IN 1815. BY A STRANGE COINCIDENCE
THE PIKE FELL ON THE DAY THE RUSSIAN
AMBASSADOR LEFT LONDON BEFORE THE
DECLARATION OF WAR WITH RUSSIA IN 1854
WAS REBUILT WHEN PEACE WAS RESTORED IN
1856
REPAIRED AND LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR FIXED
1889

After a spot of lunch, we continued south along the Pennine Way. The views down the valley, framed by the smoke-blackened gritstone rocks, were spectacular. After a few hundred yards, we reached the first of two stone markers, and I was eager to share their history with Chris.

The Long Stoop at Withens Gate, also known as Withens Gate Stoop, is an ancient guidepost on Langfield Common near Todmorden. This nine-foot-tall post now leans at a precarious angle and has marked this spot for centuries. Likely dating from the late medieval period, it originally served as a boundary or guide stone along the Long Causeway, a historic packhorse route and corpse road that crossed the ridge between Cragg Vale and Mankinholes. The stones along this route, particularly in the early 18th century, became well-worn through centuries of use.

Today, Long Stoop marks the junction of two major trails: the Pennine Way and Calderdale Way. Despite small supporting stones at its base, they have not been able to counteract the effects of erosion, subsidence, or human interference. Its presence, weathered and worn, highlights the importance of the region’s ancient routes and the people who travelled them.

The second marker, the ‘Te Deum’ stone, is a short distance from the Pennine Way, along the Long Causeway, now part of the Calderdale Way. This ancient boundary stone, known as a coffin/marker stone or Withens Cross, stands near a wall at Withens Gate on Langfield Moor, between Cragg Vale and Mankinholes. It was originally a ‘coffin rest’ for prayer along the old packhorse route through the Pennines to their eventual burial place in Mankinholes or Lumbutts Chapels.

The stone has been damaged over the years, leaving it just a few feet high. Fortunately, in 1956, the Hebden Bridge Local History Society restored it to its present form. One side of the stone bears an incised Latin cross with the letters’ TD’; below it, it is thought to represent Te Deum Laudamus, meaning “We praise Thee, O Lord.” More recent carvings feature the letters’ BG’ and ‘TB,’ suggesting its later use as a boundary marker.

The weather improved as we continued, a stark contrast to the dreary conditions when we first set off from Mytholmroyd. Aside from a brief ascent up Coldwell Hill, the remainder of the journey was relatively level. Years ago, the Pennine Way’s crossing of the boggy Red Dykes Flat had been paved with millstones, relics of the textile industry. The stones still displayed the bolt holes where machinery had once been affixed, a reminder of the area’s industrial past.

Soon, we joined the drainage system from Warland Reservoir. This three-mile stretch, which includes Light Hazzles Edge, is the flattest part of the entire Pennine Way. However, rather than continue along the Pennine Way, we veered off at the reservoirs, crossing Langfield Common towards Gaddings Dam.

This Victorian mill dam, built in 1833 to power the mills, has recently become a popular local swimming spot. It narrowly avoided being drained in 2001 when a dedicated group of residents, now known as the Gaddings Dam Group, purchased and maintained the dam for recreational use. It even boasts its own beach, perched 350 metres above sea level, reputed to be the highest in England.

From a vantage point at the dam’s edge, we were rewarded with sweeping views extending to the City of Manchester and beyond. The city’s rapid expansion has made it almost reminiscent of the New York skyline. As a cartographer, Chris spent many years compiling panoramic maps from various high points across the UK and found this view fascinating.

We photographed as much of the distant skyline as possible to later identify how far we could see. Manchester is approximately 19 miles away as the crow flies, and we could see at least 10 miles further. Despite carrying a DSLR with a 24-70mm lens, I relied on my S24 Ultra phone camera, using its 100x digital zoom, albeit with a noticeable reduction in image quality.

Departing the dam, I had one more surprise for Chris before we dropped into the valley. Located on Langfield Edge, a short distance from the dam, lies the Basin Stone, a distinctive rock formation steeped in local history and folklore. This large, flat-topped gritstone boulder, also known as the ‘Hare’s Stone’ in earlier times, is believed to have been a meeting place for local communities. Its position offers panoramic views of the surrounding landscape, making it a natural gathering point.

Historically, the stone has been associated with political and religious dissent, especially during the 18th and 19th centuries. It was a known venue for public meetings, including Chartist rallies, where working-class reformers advocated for democratic rights. The rock’s distinctive basin-like depression, supposedly carved by natural erosion, adds to its mystery.

Chris was mesmerised by the Basin Stone, and when he returned home, he was determined to research its history. During our walk, he was surprised by the local history that lay just beyond the Pennine Way, hidden in plain sight.

A heartfelt thank you to Chris Jesty for venturing beyond his usual Cumbrian boundary. It was a fantastic day and a true pleasure to share an area close to my heart since my late teens. While we have more Lake District walks lined up in the coming weeks, we’re excited about returning to uncover more of Calderdale’s hidden gems.