The
Troutbeck
Valley
runs
into
the
fells
to
the
North
East
out
of
Windermere,
through
the
seventeenth
century
village
of
Troutbeck.
The
road
which
runs
through
the
valley
rises
quite
dramatically
towards
the
Kirkstone
Pass
and
its
famous
Inn,
rebuilt
in
the
1830s
by
Sewell
the
local
priest.
As
you
climb
the
pass
there
is
a
superb
view
to
the
right
of
the
head
of
the
valley
and
the
piece
of
land
known
as
the
Tongue,
(old
Norse
tunga
or
table
land
between
two
valleys)
that
joins
Hird
Ghyll
on
one
side
and
Hag
Ghyll
on
the
other.
At
the
base
of
the
tongue
are
the
picturesque
white
farmhouse
and
out
buildings
of
Troutbeck
Park
Farm.
In
1923
Beatrix
Potter
purchased
the
farm,
the
deeds
containing
twenty
five
separately
described
parcels
of
land
running
to
1875
acres
for
which
she
paid
£8000.
The
farm
was
conveyed
to
her
on
28th
August
1923
making
her
one
of
the
largest
landowners
in
the
Lakes.
She
purchased
the
farm
to
save
it
from
being
developed
into
holiday
accommodation,
a
blight
on
Lakeland
which
remains
even
to
this
day.
The
farm
at
one
point
was
apparently
part
of
an
ancient
Norman
Deer
Park
and
home
to
a
variety
of
animal
and
bird
life.
On
its
land
were
stands
of
old
forest,
ruined
walls
and
ancient
stone
huts
and
cairns,
besides
an
alleged
prehistoric
burial
mound.
Shortly
after
buying
the
farm
she
witnessed
her
first
Coniston
fox
hunt
at
the
Park.
Watching
in
amazement
as
the
hounds
”bravely
spilled
down
over
the
crags
and
fells
in
pursuit
of
their
quarry”,
she
had
taken
off
her
shoes
and
stockings
and
then
waded
through
the
beck,
the
only
clean
place
on
the
farm
to
rejoin
the
hunt
spectators.
The
Westmorland
Gazette
of
October
1924
records
a
meet
of
the
Coniston
from
The
Grove
Farm
on
Kirkstone
Pass
where,
after
a
hunt
round
the
Woundale
Valley
the
fox
eventually
took
refuge
in
some
rocks
at
Hallylands.
A
terrier
belonging
to
a
Mrs.
Leake
(tenant
at
Troutbeck
Park
Farm)
entered
the
borran
and
killed
the
fox,
which
was
recovered,
the
brush
being
presented
to
Mrs.
W
Heelis
(Beatrix
Potter).
When
Beatrix
Potter
bought
Troutbeck
Park
Farm,
it
was
tenanted
by
Mrs.
Leake
and
her
two
sons.
This
agreement
was
to
run
for
another
three
years.
The
Leakes
had
allowed
the
farmland
and
pastures
to
erode
and
the
stream
was
badly
polluted.
The
farmhouse
and
out
buildings
were
run
down
and
in
need
of
repair.
William
Heelis
(Beatrix’s
husband)
tried
to
get
the
Leakes
out
of
the
farm
sooner
so
repairs
could
be
commenced,
but
had
little
success.
In
the
meantime
Beatrix
began
to
add
land
to
the
perimeters
of
the
farm
as
a
buffer
against
development.
From
December
1923
to
September
1927
she
added
seven
closes,
including
several
small
contiguous
fields,
costing
an
additional
£4000
to
ensure
her
intake
fields
were
protected,
the
aim
being
to
hold
all
the
land
along
the
road
frontage
against
development.
Drainage
in
the
fields
was
a
problem
as
the
grazing
land
was
of
poor
quality
with
resulting
effect
on
the
stock,
and
despite
major
investment
in
materials
and
labour
was
never
overcome
as
the
photo
taken
in
2000
shows.
The
records
show
that
Beatrix
Potter
was
a
great
supporter
of
the
Coniston
Foxhounds,
being
both
a
subscriber
and
hound
walker,
a
fact
sadly
glossed
over
in
today’s
politically
correct
culture.
The
hound
pups
immortalized
in
the
book
The
Tale
of
Jemima
Puddleduck
and
pictured
outside
the
Tower
Bank
Arms
at
Sawrey
probably
belonged
to
the
Coniston
hunt.
When
the
deeds
of
her
properties
were
passed
to
the
National
Trust,
included
in
the
deeds
to
Troutbeck
Park
was
the
clause
that
foxhunting
was
to
be
allowed
to
be
carried
out
on
her
land
for
all
time,
however
there
was
to
be
no
hunting
by
Harriers
or
Otter
hounds!
When
she
died
in
1943
her
estate
was
valued
at
£211,
636.4s.10d,
or
approximately
£7
million
at
today’s
prices.
There
is
a
recollection
of
Beatrix
Potter,
which
may
be
of
some
interest
and
possible
amusement.
In
the
late
1930s
my
father
was
an
apprentice
plumber
working
for
Huddlestones
in
the
Slack
in
Ambleside.
Today
it
is
known
as
the
Old
Forge
and
is
a
thriving
fish
and
chip
shop
but
in
the
1930s
it
was
a
painting
and
plumbing
business,
which
provided
work
for
several
local
men.
One
morning
my
father
was
sent
to
Hilltop
in
Sawrey
to
do
a
job.
He
piled
his
tool
bag
on
the
front
of
an
old
sit
up
and
beg
bicycle
without
gears
and
set
off.
The
road
from
Ambleside
to
Sawrey
is
about
9
miles
and
besides
many
twists
and
turns
there
are
several
hills
to
negotiate.
Covered
in
sweat
he
arrived,
leaned
his
bicycle
against
the
wall
and
walked
up
the
path
to
the
front
door
of
Hill
Top
Farm.
Knocking
on
the
door
he
patiently
awaited
a
response.
Finally
the
door
opened
and
Mrs
Hellis
(Beatrix
Potter)
dressed
in
old
clothes
and
wearing
a
shawl
and
clogs
stood
on
the
step.
“Good
morning,
Maam,“
my
father
said,
“I’m
the
plumber.”
She
scrutinised
him
closely,
taking
her
time
to
do
so.
“You’re
a
young
man,”
she
said.
“Are
you
a
tradesman?”
He
replied,
“Not
until
next
year,
Maam.
I’m
an
apprentice”.
”I’m
very
sorry,“
she
said,
closing
the
door,
“I
only
employ
tradesmen.”
Having
cycled
the
9
miles
home,
the
air
apparently
was
blue
with
abuse
and
strange
as
it
may
seem,
I
never
read
a
Beatrix
Potter
book
as
a
child.