Levisham and Lockton, the twin villages that stand upon the very edge of
the heather, are separated by a tremendous valley, and although from above
they may seem so close as to be almost continuous, in reality they are as
remote from one another as though they were separated by five or six
miles. To reach Levisham from Lockton means a break-neck descent of a very
dangerous character and a climb up from the mill and lonely church at the
bottom of the valley that makes one marvel how the village ever came to be
perched in a position of such inaccessibility. The older inhabitants of
Levisham tell you that in their young days the village was more populous,
and their statements are supported by the pathetic evidence of more than
one cottage lying in ruins with the interior occupied by a jungle of
nettles. The Vicarage is the only new building that breaks the mellowed
grey tones of the wide, grass-bordered street.
[Illustration: LOCKTON VILLAGE. The ash tree that grows on the church
tower can be seen in the drawing.]
Lockton is a larger and better preserved village. The little church with
its grey tower is noticeable on account of the vigorous ash-tree that
grows from the parapet. It has been there for many years, and I am told
that the roots have penetrated for a very great distance among the stones,
and may even be drawing their sustenance from the ground. In order to
prevent the undue growth of the tree, it is periodically cut down to one
branch, but even with this wholesale lopping the tree has forced many of
the stones from their original positions.
The interior of the church is a melancholy spectacle of churchwarden
methods, but probably Lockton will before many years receive that careful
restoration that has taken place at Ellerburne and Sinnington. The font is
one of those unadorned, circular basins which generally date from the
thirteenth century. One of the village inns is known as "The Durham Ox,"
and bears a sign adorned with a huge beast whose pensive but intelligent
eye looks down upon all passers-by. The village stocks that used to stand
outside the churchyard wall on the east side, near the present
schoolhouse, are remembered by the older inhabitants. They were taken away
about forty years ago. The few thatched cottages that remain in the
village are unfortunately being allowed to fall into disrepair, but this
is the case in most of the villages.
Newton, or, as its full name should be given, Newton-upon-Rawcliff, stands
on the verge of Newton Dale. Its small modern church has no interest for
the antiquary, but the broad roadway between the houses and the
whitewashed cottages thrown up against the strip of grass on either side
is picturesque enough.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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