For many centuries the presence of copper in the Lake District mountain rocks above Coniston Water provided a livelihood for people in the area. Looking at the area now it is not easy to imagine a time (much of it before modern-style industrialisation) in which people living in the shade of Coniston Old Man made a living from iron, copper and slate.

Coniston is not the only Lake District area to have a copper-producing history. The Keswick area was another centre of this metal extracting industry. In their early years the Coniston copper mines sent their output there by packhorse to be processed. After the Keswick smelting facility was destroyed in the late-1700s the ore was taken by boat down Coniston Water from a quay at Coniston Hall to the Nibthwaite Quay. It was then carried to the coast by cart. From the port at Greenodd, and later from Ulverston through its canal, much of the ore went to St. Helens in Lancashire. There it was smelted and and made into copper cladding for the hulls of sailing vessels.

Coniston Copper: The Early Years

The Coniston copper mines certainly go as far back as the 1500s, and possibly longer. Most of what is currently visible dates from the mid-19th century. The mines were worked up until the English Civil War of the 1640s but then there was a break before they were revived. For some of the time, as also at Keswick, the enterprise was led by experienced German miners. The Company of Mines Royal, which had also run other copper extraction enterprises in the Lake District, had control of Coniston’s “Coppermines Valley” toward the end of the 16th century.

The Antiquities of Furness (1774)

In 1774 the antiquarian Jesuit priest Thomas West wrote in his book, The Antiquities of Furness, as follows:

“The fells of Coniston have produced great quantities of copper ore. During the rage of the civil wars the copper mines in Coniston fells were shut up. After the Restoration, Sir Daniel Fleming had an inquest of all the old workmen then living, concerning them, with their opinion of the charges necessary for recovering the said mines. The following abstract is given here, as it may be of some service to future adventurers. The original is at Rydal hall. … “

[West then lists nine different areas of working with depths, thickness of the seams, and comments on the quality of the the ore, including mention of other metals present such as lead, silver and gold. He then continues .... ]

“About 140 workmen were employed in these works, and the ore was carried on horses backs to the smelting-house at Keswick. About 20 miles distant from some of the works the ore was raised at different prices, according to its goodness, from 2s.6d to 8s per kible, every kible being near a horseload. The ore was first beaten small, and washed and sifted then weighed or measured.

“Before the works were left off, a proposal was made for erecting a smelting-house at Coniston, as more convenient for building houses, a nd better supplied with wood and peat, with the convenience of an iron forge, then at Coniston, being only seven miles from the sea-port at Penny bridge, five of which were by water down the lake, and two miles of land carriage on a good road.”

For reasons now unknown West does not mention in his 1774 Antiquities that the Macclesfield Copper Company reopened the Coniston coppermines in 1758. For almost the next forty years they were again in production but then there was a hiatus of about thirty years before they were once again reopened. This time production took off in a big way controlled by the firm of John Barratt, and copper became the basis for several generations of local prosperity, at one point employing as many as 400 men.

The Copper Mines in the 19th Century

This prosperity rubbed off not only on Coniston village itself but also on the surrounding area. The 1851 census describes John Biggins of neighbouring Torver as a “calker-maker”. As John Dawson says in his history of Torver, “Calkers are pointed pieces on horseshoes placed so as to prevent slipping; no doubt in regular demand at a time when so many horses would be working up and down the steep and slippery ways to the mines and quarries. Numbers of horses were also employed inside the Coniston copper mines to haul out wagon-loads of ore, a situation in which calkers would give the animal a better grip where the surface was wet and uneven.” Dawson also mentions other makers of industrial equipment such as pick and hammer shafts.

Coniston Water now became an even busier commercial route than it had been previously. Boats were already carrying slate from the quarries. Now they also carried copper ore. At Nibthwaite Quay, near where Coniston lake becomes the River Crake, two buildings became known locally as the “Copper Houses”.

By the late 1840s the Furness Railway had its line running from the Furness area and up the coast of Cumberland. Already thought was being given to the possibility of a branch line to Coniston. After an earlier false start the line was opened in 1859. It was promoted heavily by the owners of interests in the Coniston copper mines because getting the increased volumes of copper ore down to the coast by the traditional water and land route was becoming more and more difficult. In the following year the line was extended to run beyond Coniston to the Copper House at the mines. Although in later years the Furness Railway emphasised the tourism aspects of the Foxfield-Coniston branchline, its reason for existence was copper.

The End of Coniston’s Copper Era

Copper-based prosperity did not last. Good quality ore became available in large quantities from other parts of the world, especially South America, at prices with which the Coniston mines could not compete. By the end of the nineteenth century it was all over.

Coniston Coppermines Today

Today the Coppermines Valley is virtually silent apart from voices of walkers. Many signs of the old industry survive and remain the subject of great interest to many thousands of visitors each year as well as to industrial archaeologists.

There are, however, considerable dangers lurking behind the entrances to the mine workings. Visitors to the area should under no cicumstances enter the mine workings unless properly authorised, equipped and accompanied. Look at them from the outside only, and when back down in Coniston village take a look at the Ruskin Museum where you’ll find a wealth of information about Coniston copper.

(NOTE: This post is a slightly revised version of a 2009 page on our old Lake District site. Also, a 2009 blog post on Coniston Coppermines includes links to some very interesting and useful books.

I hesitated before starting to write this. After all, why should anyone else be interested in a record of how my wife and I spent a few days in the Lake District. We’d driven north to look after grandchildren for a few days, then there was a gap before I had to be north again for two preaching engagements, so rather than return home between the two we took our tent to the Crake Valley, close to where the River Crake flows out from the foot of Coniston Water (picture below, taken in the rain).

Why should this interest anyone else? Well, it strikes me that an important point about these days is that they were wet. Yes, more than damp … wet!

This  is not intended to put off those considering a visit to the Lakes, but rather to demonstrate that rainy weather does not have to destroy an holiday in the English Lake District. It can, in fact, add interest as one searches for alternatives to the obvious; and in the Lake District one doesn’t have to search far.

1. Go prepared. Check out in advance what indoor places of interest are to be found in the area. Research historical events and famous people connected with the area, and see whether there are museums or historic houses associated with them. Ask which writers and artists have worked around here, are they commemorated in some way, and are their works on display? Why not use our “English Lakes” site to help with your planning?
2. However well you think you know the area, take every opportunity to scavenge the racks of brochures that are in just about every hotel foyer, restaurant, coffee shop, trinkets store, petrol filling station, etc, etc, etc.. You’ll almost certainly be surprised to find something that you didn’t imagine would be around here, or which you vaguely knew about but had forgotten.
3. Don’t let a bit of rain turn you totally away from the idea of an outdoor holiday. Use the gaps in the heavy rain to take short walks. If you’re visiting the Lakes I assume you’ll have waterproofs with you.  Put them on and go out.

Day One:  Coniston Water, Millom and Haverigg

Wednesday: We were camping (the tent attaches to the back of our estate car – more on that in a later post) at a small secluded site at Blawith, between Torver and Greenodd.  We’d chosen this because, although as a child in the 1950s I’d often visited my uncle’s farm just up the road between Lowick and Gawthwaite, we’d never before explored the area in any detail.

The morning was damp but not actually raining, so skirting the private land over which there appears to be a right of way only to use the Coniston passenger launch jetty, we found our way down to a point at the water’s edge where there is a canoe launching point.  Even in the damp air with the mist over the hills it was a  beautiful, peaceful spot and until we reached the road on our return walk by a different path we never saw a single soul.

For the afternoon we chose to visit a town and headed west to Millom, home of the late Norman Nicholson, possibly the most outstanding of 20th-century “Lakes Poets”.  It would have been nice to spend some time in the local museum, which I’m told is very informative on the history of the area – this grey town between the heights of Black Combe and the Duddon Estuary which for generations was home to a major steel-producing plant based on the local availability of haematite ore, all now gone. This, however, will have to wait for another trip as we decided to head further west to Haverigg, a small coastal village.

If you’re lover of windswept views of sand and sea then this outer point of the Duddon estuary, looking south across to Askam and Barrow with Walney Island wrapped around the tip of the Furness Peninsula, must be for you.  As we reached the coast the rain had stopped.  We strolled onto the first few sand dunes (an area of dune said to be the largest in England, and recognised now as a Site of Special Scientific Interest for its extensive natural habitats).  I’d like to spend more time exploring this area.  For today, though, we sat for a while on a seat overlooking the estuary, enjoying the view, then drank an excellent cup of tea at the beach cafe. Across from the cafe is an information board about the Duddon Estuary – one of the best, in the sense of being genuinely informative and interestingly put together, that I’ve seen anywhere. (I don’t expect you to be able to read the text on the photo!)

Day Two:  Barrow-in-Furness

Thursday: Still raining.  And disaster struck.  It’s not easy to lock the keys inside our car; it’s designed to make it difficult, but I succeeded.  “Don’t worry,” said my wife.  “I’ve got my keys in my bag.”  “Where’s your bag?”  “Oh! … It’s in the car!”  That occupied the morning, but the Green Flag emergency call-out man did a splendid job, and by lunch-time we were mobile.  We decided to go west again, this time on the south side of the Duddon, so headed out past Greenodd. Ulverston and Dalton to Barrow.

Now what can I say of my birthplace?  My parents left just after World War II, and took me with them. I was only three years old so I never knew Barrow well, but over the years came to think of it as a rather dull, dusty, declining and dispirited town with little going for it apart from the fluctuating fortunes of the shipbuilding industry.  Today, however, I saw a brighter Barrow.  The town is picking itself up.  As we walked through the streets, even on a dull day, there seemed to be more energy about the place.

I’m cheered at that.  But actually, our focus now was not to be on the present but on Barrow’s past.  There is a excellent museum in one of the old docks; three floors of exhibits on the history of this remarkable town and its growth from almost nothing to a major industrial centre based on iron, ships and railways within little more than thirty years in the nineteenth century.  It was indeed a miracle town of the industrial revolution.  For me it has a special interest as one of my four sets of great-grandparents arrived in the area from Liverpool during the 1870s, but even without a personal connection The Dock Museum can provide a fascinating afternoon out, not least for its scale models of ships launched from the shipyards here – and there’s a nice coffee shop. The Barrow Dock Museum is something of which the town can rightfully be proud.  (I wonder whether it is fully appreciated locally).

There’s much more to Barrow for the visitor. The lover of history can investigate the magnificent ruins of Furness Abbey, the ancient Cistercian monastery from which the powerful abbots of long ago strongly influenced both the religious and economic life of this region, and beyond.   The nature lover can spend fascinating hours at the reserves on Walney Island, and a drive back to Ulverston along the “coast road” on the south of the peninsula is beautiful, but for now we had to return to base camp and chose to go through Askam (briefly to revive childhood memories of walks along the sand to Dunnerholme with the dogs) and Broughton.

Day Three:  Hawkshead and Coniston

Friday. I wish we’d known the significance of the day as we chose to visit the Beatrix Potter properties of the National Trust at Hawkshead and Near Sawrey … but as described in an earlier post on this blog we found them both closed.  (Warning!  Don’t try to visit Beatrix Potter on a Friday.  She’s “not at home” to visitors on that day).  However, after eating our sandwiches in the Hill Top car park, we drove back and wandered around Hawkshead under umbrellas, found a good bookshop and visited the old Grammar School (pictured above), founded in 1585 and attended by William Wordsworth from 1779-1787.

Next stop was Coniston village.  I wanted some photographs of the Ruskin monument in the churchyard, and obligingly the rain stopped for a while.  On previous visits I’d not noticed that W. G. Collingwood (at different stages of his life Ruskin’s student, assistant, secretary, travelling companion, colleague and biographer – as well as artist, archeologist, antiquarian and author in his own right) is buried in the adjacent plot.  Then to complete a trio of gravestone photos I walked to the modern burial ground a few hundred yards away to see the grave of Donald Campbell who was killed in 1967 when his Bluebird speedboat crashed on Coniston Water during an attempt on the world water speed record.

I’ve visited the Ruskin Museum in Coniston several times in the past, and decided this time to give it a miss.  If you’ve never been then you should include this on your itinerary, but I satisfied myself with a photograph of the temporary entrance as in the very near future a new extension is to be opened housing the restored Bluebird, remains of which were recovered a few years ago along with Donald Cambell’s body (at last laid to rest in 2001) after eventually being found in the depths of the lake.  I hope to return when the new exhibits are open.

The weather by now was blustery but dry, so after a cup of tea in a very nice cafe a walk to the lake was just what was needed.  More photographs, then on the way back we stopped off to look at an exhibition of two Lakeland photographers.  Rather unusually they were housed in an upstairs gallery over  the Fudge Shop on a small retail development, strategically positioned so that the footpath is routed through it, between the village and the lake.  I was very impressed with the work of both Trevor Brown and David Briggs.

Day Four:  Windermere and Near Sawrey

Saturday: Overnight it had poured down, but our trusty tent kept us snug and dry. We took it down between showers, and drove to Lakeside, at the foot of Windermere.

The plan had been to visit the freshwater aquarium there but we changed out minds and left it for another visit. It look as though this could provide a very interesting hour or two on a rainy day, or even to retreat from the sun when it’s too hot, but I simply cannot understand how the National Park planning authorities allowed it to be built in a style more suited to a small town supermarket. Why on earth isn’t it at least faced in local slate to make it fit in with the general environment?

The weather now improved and we had a very good, intermittently sunny day mostly around Windermere. Firstly Fell Foot Park, owned by the National Trust and providing access to a beautiful stretch of the lake shore. Given my interest in the local rivers it allowed me photograph the point at which the River Leven flows out from the lake to commence its short coastward journey.

We then moved on toward the northern end of the lake, to Brockhole. headquarters of the Lake District National Park Authority. The house, gardens and a stretch of lake shoreline are open to the public free of charge (apart from a modest car park fee). The house includes an information centre, Lake District exhibitions, a very nice restaurant, a bookshop and a film theatre. This is a “must-see” for any visitor to this part of the Lake District. Many special events are held at Brockhole on a wide variety of Lakeland themes. Views from the garden are little short of spectacular.

We also fitted in a visit to Hill Top, the Beatrix Potter farmhouse, compensating from our failed attempt the previous day, and then it was time to hit the motorway. We’d had an excellent few days. The weather didn’t allow the intended photographic exploration of the Crake Valley; that will have to wait for another time; but we demonstrated clearly that damp days don’t have to be a spoiled holiday.