Dr Bill Mitchell looks at one of his favourite Dales views – Buckhaw Brow – it’s history and some of the characters and his personal memories associated with this impressive stretch of landscape

It used to be said that a native of the Dales would break rather than bend. The same notion can be applied to Dales scenery. Before the Settle by-pass came into existence, traffic thronged Buckhaw Brow, a stretch of road that runs on the approximate line of the Craven Fault, with limestone on one side and gritstone on the other.

An old-time visitor asked a native: “What’s the Craven Fault?” He had an unexpected reply. “It’s bluntness”. This road, which still has a trickle of traffic, has grand scenery, especially when viewed from southbound traffic.

The road was built by the Keighley and Kendal Turnpike trustees. At the top of the Brow is an old quarry which formerly supplied surfacing for the road. This ceased when chippings from elsewhere were found to be more economical.

To the north, in the area known as Cave Ha’, the remains of extinct animals have been found in the caves. This area also has the remains of a large lime kiln, one of several erected when limestone was quarried along the limestone edge. When I first knew Buckhaw Brow, the limeworks were active. Buckets dangling from an overhead cable supported by tall metal towers, transported lime to Giggleswick railway station.

I occasionally sampled water from the Ebbing and Flowing Well, which was at the roadside and is now heavily-shaded by trees. Over three centuries ago, Michael Drayton, an observant traveller, noted that the well was said to ebb and flow eight times a day. In about the 1840s, when it was reportedly tampered with by some Americans, it never seemed quite the same as it had been.

The well “worked” at uncertain intervals. Less frequently, a band of air known as the “silver cord” appeared.

For some, it was regarded as an omen of good luck. A fanciful idea was that the action of the tides, thirty miles away, caused the phenomenon. It was more likely that a natural double siphon arrangement exists in the scar behind.

The original road, running along high ground, passed Brunton House, once a coaching inn where horses were changed between Clapham and Settle. The late Helen Byles, who had stayed here, mentioned to readers of The Dalesman, many years ago, that the house is referred to in the diaries of both Oliver Cromwell and the poet Gray.

George Fox passed by when, as a prisoner, he was being taken from Lancaster Castle to York. There was said to be a bevy of local ghosts – a coachload of merrymakers drawn by a ghostly team of horses! The tucked-away hamlet of Feizor is now well-known because of its restaurant.

Years ago, I was fond of visiting Frederic Riley, local historian, at the topmost cottage in Feizor. Ledges protruding from the chimney were referred to as Witches Seats. Any witch that sat here was able to keep warm. Before I return down Buckhaw Brow I like to draw my car into a parking area for a glimpse, to the south, of one of my favourite Dales views. It takes in the well-wooded edge of the Great Scar Limestone. On the other side of the Brow, the land has slipped away. Here is millstone grit of a much later date than the limestone.

It is covered by a green sward and traversed by a beck of chilly waters. A tarn existed until, in about 1860, someone decided it should be drained. Hereabout is a much-used golf course. Edward Elgar, the composer, who was friendly with Dr Buck, a local medic and was fond of visiting Giggleswick, had a passion for golf.

Will Nevison, the celebrated Yorkshire highwayman, is said to have been here, stopping his horse at the well so that it might drink. Then, with the aid of what was considered to be magic water, the horse was able to carry Nevison over the scar.

One of my favourite walks from Giggleswick – a walk favoured by Elgar – was to follow a path that led to the remnants of what was known as the Schoolboys Tower, associated with the celebrated Giggleswick School.

From the Tower there is a glorious view of the Ribble Valley, the domed chapel of Giggleswick School - and the whale-shaped form of Pendle Hill. Here, indeed, is a geography lesson – with thoughts rather than words.