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Priestcliffe Ditch
Priestcliffe Ditch maps
Historic maps of Priestcliffe Ditch and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Priestcliffe Ditch maps
Priestcliffe Ditch photos
We have no photos of Priestcliffe Ditch, although we do have photos of these nearby places:
Chee Dale| Taddington| Chelmorton| Millers Dale| Litton Mill| Tideswell| Monsal Dale| Ashwood Dale| Peak Dale| Monyash| Ashford-In-The-Water| Great Longstone| Buxton| Great Hucklow| Over Haddon| Bakewell| Eyam| Bradwell| Stoney Middleton| Combs| Youlgrave| Chapel-En-Le-Frith| Alport| Hathersage
Priestcliffe Ditch area books
Displaying 1 of 11 books about Priestcliffe Ditch and the local area. View all books for this area
You can read extracts and browse photos from these books.
Memories of Priestcliffe Ditch
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Derbyshire memories
Paper Boy
I was a 16 year old boy and lived with my family on a hillside opposite Tunstead quarry known as The Lees. Every Sunday morning I would pick up the papers (News of the World , People etc) on my bicycle from the post office in Peak Dale, sort them out into household lots and then ride the path through to the bottom of Wormhill and deliver them to the individual houses and farms finishing at a Mansion type house with a High stone wall around it at the very top of the village. Walking through the farmyards and fields sometimes had its dangers and I was chased more than once by the odd Bull, scattering the papers in the mud and having to explain to the next household why the headlines were unreadable. Sometimes in winter I would have to walk it as the snow was too deep to ride my bike through.
I have many fond memories of the area. At first we lived in Peak Dale... Read more
Memories of Growing up in 1940s Tideswell
My memories of growing up in 1940s' Tideswell are: navy blue knickers with elastic bottoms, gym slips and liberty bodices, awful shoes, legs like poppy stems, twirling and whirling, chalk on the blackboard, desks with inkwells, teachers so prim we held them in awe - they knew each and every one of us. Snotty noses, permanent sniffs, the thick and the bright. Running home to Mother - "What's there for tea?". Want more? Get in touch! Elsie Hollis, International Poet
Memories of Growing up in 1940s Tideswell
Memories of visiting Uncle Bernard at his cobbler's shop, and smelling the leather and sweaty feet. Uncle Bernard makes crisps, peeling potatoes so thin with the knife he uses to cut leather, and the crisps taste good, Uncle Bernard is my friend. We go to the Orchard behind the Club(Ex- Service Mens Club). He keeps Banties there (small hens to you), Uncle Bernard, Uncle Herbert and Dad show them They've won lots of prizes, and medals and cups adorn the sideboard in Uncle Bernard's house. Every dinner time on my way home from school I go up to the top of 'the cliff' to fetch milk from the Misses Brocklehurst for Uncle Bernard. I dont like going, I grumble and groan, yet I still have to go. Home for dinner, Mam cooks something nice. Running and skipping, and taking the dogs for a walk. Elsie Hollis, International Poet
Memories of Growing up in 1940s Tideswell
Up past the lightning tree, its trunk split in half where it was struck. Round Conjoin Lane and back home to Mum. Big brother and sister, our Vee and our George, fair-haired and handsome, this brother of mine. Our Vera is dark, beautiful and mysterious, seven years older, I love her to bits. She puts my long hair in rags and teases me. Our George brings his mates, 'Melly Hood' I call one, his name is Melvin and he wears a coat with a hood on his head. Dad's garden in summer ablaze with colour and scents, delicious. Golden Rod attracting the bees and butterflies, Calendulas, marigolds, hearts ease, pansies. Mum standing in queues at the butchers and bakers. Coming home with a large tin of tomatoes, we had them for tea, they tasted heavenly. Going out to play with my friends, skipping and hopscotch, pinching crab apples from Uncle Bernard's orchard. Growing up in Forties England in a village so small, everyone knows everyone, warts and all. MEMORIES.
Growing up in Tideswell
Memories abound about my childhood, jumping and leaping like a rabbit at Eastertime. I remember staying at my grandmother's (Norah Gregory, a marvellous woman from the no-moaner generation), or at my Great Aunty Jessie's (Jessie Oldfield, who lived at Market Square in her parent's home) on weekend nights, playing with the old-timers (their friends Cassie Fletcher or Lillian Harrison). Even if I lost ( for half pennies), they'd hand the booty over! A rich man with all my ha'pennies.
Mrs Warrintons, sweets and papers. Gregory's shop opposite The George, with the man with bad leg. The "bottom shop", that sold groceries, and for a time videos (I remember venturing in to rent "Lady Chatterly's Lover", my adrenalin flowing - the woman - (her name I forget), must have chuckled to herself after I left the shop in a stuttering and stumbling fashion, knowing that one thing I hadn't bought it for was the story).
I had a lot of relatives. My... Read more
Loss of A School Chum
I was born in Peak Dale 6.9.40, at which time Peak Dale was very much a limestone quarry village. As it is coming round to Easter it reminds me of the first tragic loss that I vividly remember. While we were in school our teacher asked us to bring some pussy willow for the setting up of our Easter decorations. A boy named Brian Sidall who always eager to please said he knew where the best Pussy Willow could be found but he wouldn't tell any of us where it was in case we got there first. Brian lived in the first house of a little row of quarry houses just inside the entrance of a quarry. He got up one morning and went to get the Pussy Willow. He hadn't told anyone that it was growing out of a crack on a ledge half way up the quarry face which was brash and bitting and totally unsafe. Brian knew how to get up to it and as he was... Read more
THE BRAMWELL FAMILY
I have just dicovered I have a family name of Bramwell, Dora Brawell was my grandmother who married Francis Joyce from Buxton in the 1920s. Are there any Bramwells still in Moneyash? It was a large family of 8 back in the 1920s. It would be great to hear from you.
Christine Joyce
