Mr. Fred Green
I would imagine that anyone who has spent much time in Dove Holes will have known Fred Green who lived at Meadow Lane Farm and who died quite recently.
Fred was certainly not frightened of hard work and was a really nice man.
As well as his farm he was also a coal merchant which took its toll on him in later life as he could only walk bent double. There was no way he could straighten up and he cut a sorry figure.
He also had an allotment on the other side of the road below Ladylow but only grew gooseberrys and rhubarb. As lads we used to sneak up and eat what we could but Fred wasn’t daft he often seemed to know we were there and would suddenly appear out of nowhere. We would scatter as fast as we could diving under the barbed wire fence but Fred would always catch one of us and a thick ear was swiftly delivered to his young prisoner.
Later in life we became good friends and I used to meet him at Chelford Market where he always took his duck eggs to sell. I would help him in with them.
It was during one of these market days that he told me about delivering coal in the dreadful 1947 winter.
German and Italian prisoners had stayed on after the War and were put to work digging the main road out. They dug a single track passageway all the way from Horwich End in Whaley Bridge up to Buxton and back down Long Hill and it was a strict one way system.
One teatime Fred had just come home and a lady was sat in his front room. Fred knew her; she lived at Lower Bibbington. She said that her family were shivering to death, they had no heat and could he drop her 6 bags of coal off. Always the gent Fred put the bags of coal on his truck and after a bit of tea he set off. Now Lower Bibbington wasn’t too far from his farm but it wasn’t an easy drive. There was no salt and grit in those days.
With the coal dropped off Fred had to stick to the one way system and you couldn’t turn round even if it was possible. So he had to drive all the way up to Buxton, down Long Hill and back to his farm over the railway bridge.
He told me it was midnight before he got home.
Poor Fred, a very nice man.
Tony Beswick.
This is an old photo of Black Hole Cottages in Dove Holes going down towards Barmour Clough. Not a very appealing name really.
I
don't even know where the name came from. Some folk say they were
railway houses but they are quite a distance from Dove Holes Station and
why would the station need all those houses and employees? More likely
they were houses for quarry workers as the track leading to Beelow Quarry
was directly opposite on the other side of the A6.
But where
did the name Black Hole come from? There used to be a mine near Eyam
called The Black Hole Mine but that's a long way off and makes no sense
anyway.