Edale, Derbyshire

The "White Hart Inn"

My Gt.Gt.Grandparents ran this Inn in Bradwell during the 1870's. Their names were John & Ann Archer. They originally came from West Yorkshire in a place called Kirkburton.
John & Ann had a great many children who married into Bradwell families.
John & Ann both died in 1879 wilthin a few months of each other & are buried in St.Barnabus... [more]

The "White Hart Inn" Towngate

My husband's ancestors John & Ann Archer were Innkeeper's of this Inn in Bradwell in the 1850's. They lived here until their deaths in 1879 & are buried in St.Barnabus Churchyard.
They both originally came from Kirkburton West Yorkshire & at one time were Tollkeepers for nearby Mytham Bridge Toll Road.

Family Tree

I am researching my family tree and found that a relative called Percival George Jeffrey was a proprietor of the Marquis of Granby around about the late 1800s or early 1900s.

Bamford Parish Church - No one cares anymore

A churchyard  is a place where families can be near their deceased loved ones, a calm and beautiful place surrounded by trees and flowers, but that is not the case in Bamford churchyard. The grass and weeds are taking over so it is impossible to walk through the graves without being entangled or tripping over the fallen headstones hidden in the... [more]

Growin gup in Bamford

Hi, I am now 57 years and live in Los Angeles, USA. I just felt homesick and nostalgic and discovered this site. Growing up in the 50s and 60s in Bamford was wonderful (not that I felt that then). I've lived in several countries in my life, the older I get the more I relate to my childhood, my family, my... [more]

A soldiers Lament

Will I ever hear the wind sough in the trees as I lie in my trench in the night? Will I ever hear our Anna's laughing voice. or see my mother's kindly face? Here in the trenches of the Somme, lying in the mud, the everlasting mud, my thoughts fly like the birds on wing, back to my home, to Little... [more]

The Unitarian holiday camp

I was 10 when I was sent from my home in Bognor Regis to the Unitarian Church's holiday camp at Great Hucklow for three weeks. Since I was the only child from the south of England, I was frequently teased about my accent. I remember being miserable a lot of the time thinking that my parents had wanted to get rid... [more]