An old staircase is all that remains of Rosedale’s busy little priory

This query often arises from travellers whose maps show Rosedale Abbey as the centrepiece of the spectacular area known as Rosedale.

The North York Moors contain several valleys whose settlements bear the name of the dale in which they are located, eg Westerdale, Glaisdale, Farndale and Bilsdale, but Rosedale village tries to be different by adding a distinctive suffix to the name of its parent dale, ie Rosedale Abbey.

Rosedale Abbey is the name of the village but there is no abbey in that dale. Nonetheless, the settlement is announced by signs suggested there is such a ruin. In fact, there never has been an abbey in Rosedale, although there used to be a Roman Catholic priory with a community of nuns.

It is difficult to know when the suffix ‘abbey’ was added to the village name. Certainly it was in use when Ordnance Survey maps were first published circa 1840 but in earlier times, the area was known simply as Rosedale, albeit in one or other of its earlier versions.

In the 12th century, for example, it was known as Russedal or Russedale, that name changing in the following centuries to become Rossdale in the 14th century and Rosedale in the 15th.

It is thought the name derives from the personal name of Russi, the name Rosedale thus meaning Russi’s valley. Several dales in that locality have a personal name as their first element.

So if there is no abbey, what is the story of the priory? It was founded by Robert de Stuteville during the reign of Henry II (1133-1189) but completed in the reign of Richard I (1157-1199). He is better known as Richard the Lionheart and became king of England in 1189, following the death of Henry II.

He was known widely as a brave man – the French gave him the name of coeur-de-lion (heart of a lion) because he spent a lot of time in that country involved in various battles and in fact he died there in combat.

Stuteville also founded a nunnery at Keldholme near Kirkbymoorside but dedicated Rosedale Priory to Saint Mary and St Laurence, the patron saints of the present Anglican parish church. Stuteville attached the whole of the dale to the priory and it soon became a thriving enterprise, with sheep farming as its main sources of income.

Iron works also existed in Rosedale from the earliest times and another Stuteville called Eustace gave to the priory before 1209 his lands known as Baggthwaite, but did not include his furnaces.

The nuns, it seems, would have welcomed such a gift although in 1328 they were granted some iron-ore workings by Edward II.

Throughout their time in Rosedale, the nuns were strong and resourceful, making a huge success of their priory.

So what happened to Rosedale Priory?

Like so many Catholic abbeys and priories, it was destroyed by King Henry VIII as a prelude to the Reformation with one valuation being £41.13s.0d (£13.65p) and another £37.12s.5d (£37.62p). At the time it contained the prioress and eight or nine nuns, suggesting that it was quite a small but very active establishment.

Sadly, very little now remains.

People seeking the ruins will find merely part of a turret staircase near the village school, although above the doorway of the parish church is a stone bearing the words Omnia Vanitas, said to have been carved by one of the nuns. The present Anglican church, however was not built until 1839, doubtless making use of some of the priory’s dressed stones.

The remaining stones of the priory were utilised during the incredible Klondyke-style hunt for ironstone in Rosedale. In 1851, the population of Rosedale was around 550 but at its peak, the population rose to some 5000 due to the influx of miners. To accommodate the massive numbers, the stones of the old priory were utilised to build accommodation, the school, a lecture hall and even what were described as chapels for dissenters.

From 1851 until 1926, Rosedale flourished as a source of the ironstone used on Teesside and in the Durham furnaces, but when it was all over the dale returned to its normal peaceful state. One relic of its industrial past was the famous chimney at the summit of Chimney Bank but that was demolished in 1972 on the grounds it was unsafe.

And an old staircase is all that remains of Rosedale’s busy little priory.

IHAVE received more correspondence about the word bield (D&S Times, August 29 and September 19), confirming that it refers to a primitive moorland shelter for either animals or humans.

A reader from Darlington, whose home is appropriately called The Bield because it is sheltered from the north, tells me the word is well-known in Wensleydale where it means a shelter. High on the exposed hills of Wensleydale can be seen several primitive shelters of stone that are built in the form of a cross to shelter livestock from whichever direction the wind is blowing.

One reader has suggested that the term mussy bield (meaning a shelter built to accommodate travellers or people who are lost or delayed on the moors) might have links with the horn blowing ceremony at Bainbridge. For centuries, since the time of the Forest of Wensleydale, the horn has been sounded from Hawes Back End Fair until Shrove Tuesday, ie the darker nights of winter, to aid travellers who might have got lost.

No doubt if any did get lost on those moors, they would find shelter in either a mussy bield or a sheep bield.

I have been given the date of September 22 as the time the horn blowing commences for the winter season, but Hawes Back End Fair sounds infinitely more stylish.

The River Bain, that flows from Semerwater through Bainbridge and into the Ure, is often said to be the shortest river in England, but there is a challenger – the River Murk Esk that flows from Goathland to Grosmont.

Both are Yorkshire rivers and,while the Bain flows in a fairly straight line, the Murk Esk twists and turns on its journey into the Esk.

Those twists and turns could add to its length. Both are around two miles long but which is truly the shortest river in England?

AS we enter October, there will be many attempts to forecast the weather we might expect in the coming weeks. It is often said that a warm October heralds a cold February, but if October and November are cold, then the following January and February will be mild.

One belief, once very popular across Yorkshire and the northeast, is that if leaves hang onto the tree branches in October and wither without falling, then we can expect a frosty winter accompanied by a lot of snow.

Furthermore, for every mist in October there will be a snowfall in winter, the density of the fog determining whether the snowfalls will be light or heavy.

Another weather test is to listen to foxes barking – if they bark a lot in October it is also an indication of heavy snow in the near future.

October often comes with the advice that one should manure one’s field and gardens at this time of year to ensure the finest of crops although one saying tells us that “October always has 21 fine days”.

After our dreadful summer that must be good news.