Ballure

A Walk from Ballure

 

Wednesday 14th March 2012

 

    It was a rather overcast day - but not much wind and fairly warm for this time of year so I can't complain.  There were patches of sunlight around - but none on the lower slopes of North Barrule where we were walking.  North Barrule has a tendency to attract cloud - rather like Table Mountain with its "tablecloth".  Different terminology here, though.  Dorothy once remarked "I see that North Barrule is wearing his hat"!

 

    It was a short, easy walk because Dorothy is recovering from a bad cold.  We started from Ballure Reservoir, which used to be the main water supply for Ramsey before the much bigger dam was completed in Sulby Glen in the early 1980's.

 

    One of the joys of walking on the Island is the lack of crowds.  We seldom meet other hikers and on Wednesday morning, a solitary fisherman was the only other person enjoying the peace and quiet of the reservoir.  It is allegedly stocked with trout but he said that he hadn't even had a nibble.

    As we walked along the path around the edge of the reservoir, we came across another fisherman - a feathered one.  I managed to get a slightly blurred snap of him drying his wings. 

 

    Then Dorothy crept down the steps to get a closer view of the cormorant.  It was amusing, watching her playing "statues" with the bird . . . taking a few slow steps and then freezing every time it glanced around.  Eventually her patience paid off and she got almost close enough to touch the bird.

    We continued round the edge of the water until Trevor spied a mountain bike path leading uphill through the trees and we went off at a tangent to explore.  It was quite a steep climb and there was a bit of discussion as to whether it was a "short cut" or a "scenic route".  We eventually reached the forestry track although looked as though poor Dorothy was wilting a bit as she approached the road.

    We walked up the track to the top of the plantation and then crossed the road to fields above the Gooseneck (a famous corner on the TT course).  Our target was a small cluster of ruined buildings . . .  Park Mooar - big pasture (in English).  In an old document it is referred to as . . . "Lands and premises called Barroole or Great Park". 

 

    As we approached the old farm, we passed an old hawthorn hedge which had been planted in the traditional way on a sod wall or field boundary also confusingly known as a hedge.  These old earth walls or "hedges" predate the dry stone walls made of slate which became popular during the nineteenth century.  The hawthorn hedge reminded me of lines from a poem by Wordsworth: 

"Once again I see
      These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
      Of sportive wood run wild:"

    I wasted a lot of time trying to confirm a story about Park Mooar (in books and online), but without success.  I finally decided that Alan Boak, our neighbour when we first moved to the Island, must have mentioned it to me.  There are two lots of ruins from different periods in close proximity.  There are the older farm ruins but also the foundations of this more recent cottage which was probably demolished when the water authority took over the land. 

    The story I heard was that the "new" cottage belonged to an old man who had grown up on the farm.  He lived down in Ramsey in the winter - but spent the summers up in his cottage on the hillside.  He certainly had a wonderful view. 

 

    Behind the cottage we found an old plough lying near a bank.  Tim and Alexander were interested.  The old farm buildings are in the background.

 

    After leaving Park Mooar we headed downhill, climbed over an old gate, walked up the mountain road for about fifty yards and then turned down onto a footpath which eventually led to the Albert Tower.

        The story of the tower is very popular in Ramsey.  It was built to commemorate a visit by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert.  The royal party were scheduled to visit Douglas but stopped in Ramsey Bay instead because the rough seas were making the queen seasick.  Being by far the biggest town, Douglas rather looks down on Ramsey . . . so it is nice to have this memorial to our triumph over the royal visit!

      If you are interested you will find the full story behind the building of the tower in the Ramsey Times of September 25th 1847.  http://www.isle-of-man.com/manxnotebook/wma/v1p102.htm   It is rather long so you may prefer this short extract from "the handbook to Ramsey and Neighbourhood, published in 1882". 

ALBERT TOWER.

The Tower was built to commemorate the visit of Prince Albert in 1847. Early in the morning the Royal yacht being in the bay, a boat conveyed the Lord Bishop, the Archdeacon, the Northern Deemster, and other gentlemen, to present an Address to Her Majesty, who, however, was indisposed; but they were very graciously received by Lord Palmerston. Sometime after this one of the boats of the Royal yacht had already put off towards the shore, but the expectant crowd were surprised to see it making, not for the pier where they were assembled, but for Ballure, where His Royal Highness landed, and asking the guidance of a few townsmen, was conducted by them to this hill. The prospect gained his warm admiration; he asked many questions, and returned to the Royal yacht evidently well pleased. Immediately after this, the Governor (the Hon. Charles Hope), arrived on the shore, having driven furiously from Douglas, only just in time to have the vexation of seeing the Royal steamers starting for Fleetwood. The band on the shore twitted the crestfallen Governor by playing " Oh, dear ! what can the matter be ?" Illuminations and public rejoicings followed, and it was soon determined to erect this Tower as a memorial.

    The view from the tower is impressive, with the town and Ramsey Bay below, the northern plain to the left and Maughold peninsula to the right and even the coasts of Scotland and Cumbria visible on a clear day - but it really needs a panoramic photograph to do it justice.  On Wednesday I had to be content with a shot of the town bathed in spring sunshine.

    We returned to the cars across the fields behind the tower - not strictly legal but preferable to the legal footpath which is overgrown with gorse and consists mainly of deep mud, churned up by cattle.  Trevor and Dorothy stopped off to photograph more ruined farm buildings at Ballastowell, but I had had enough ruins for one day and we took the dogs back to the car.

    The late George Quayle had a theory about the number of deserted farms in the uplands in the north of the Island.  He wrote that the upland farmers were descendants of the original Manx Celts who were driven into the hills and found refuge there at the time of the Viking invasion.  The Vikings took all the good land near the coast.  The Celts farmed the uplands for centuries until two things occurred.  The importation of cheap grain from the colonies meant that local production was no longer profitable - and the enclosure of the Commonlands meant the farmers no longer had adequate summer grazing for their animals.  Then the increased use of lime instead of manure to fertilise the fields impoverished the soil.  The young people gradually moved to the towns or emigrated and the old folk clung to their way of life as long as they could but eventually died out.