Norfolk reeds at Cley next the Sea

click photo to enlarge
Recently, as I've been travelling about, I've chanced upon several thatched buildings undergoing renewal of their roofs. English thatched buildings are generally roofed with either long straw, Norfolk reed or imported reed, combed wheat reed or sedge grass. The material of choice usually depends on local vernacular tradition, the availability of the desired thatching, and the depth of the pockets of the building's owner. In East Anglia, due to the presence of suitable watery areas, the water reed was widely used; elsewhere tall-stemmed varieties of wheat were more favoured. However, the amount of reed available in East Anglia is such that foreign reed, often from the banks of the Danube, has been imported for some years.

On my recent visit to North Norfolk, when passing through Cley next the Sea, I noticed that the reeds of the coastal marsh around the village had been cut for thatching. It was stacked on the flood bank in several piles, under tarpaulins, awaiting selection and use. This activity had denuded the thick reed beds and large, irregular areas were very flat where the reed-cutters tools had been at work. You can see something of this in today's photograph.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (30mm - 27mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

It's that windmill again

click photo to enlarge
During the Second World War the British government gave a lot of thought, manpower and money towards keeping up the morale of the civilian population. One of the means of achieving this was through the "light entertainment" programmes of BBC radio. The comedy show, "It's That Man Again" was probably the most popular of these programmes. It ran from 1939 to 1949 and entertained listeners with its characters, jokes, story lines and the fun that it made of Hitler and the Axis powers. The show was built around a comedian, Tommy Handley, and when he unexpectedly died in 1949 the long-running series ended. I'm not old enough to have heard it broadcast during those years though I have heard clips. Moreover, I do recall quite a few of the performers who went on to star in radio and TV shows of the 1950s and 1960s comedy shows; people such as Derek Guyler and Hatti Jaques.

You might wonder what this has got to do with a(nother) photograph of the windmill at Cley next the Sea in Norfolk. Well, when I came to give a title to this blog post I came up with the one above. But it seemed a bit long and not very snappy so I thought of abbreviating the words it to ITWA in the way that "It's That Man Again" was always abbreviated to ITMA. It was at that point that I thought, "Tony, you're showing your age again, people (especially younger folk and  non-UK dwellers) won't know a thing about ITMA". So I stuck with the original title and blogged about that long-gone show instead!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 30mm (45mm - 27mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Maud Foster windmill - again

click photo to enlarge
Today's post is my fourth featuring what I have described as my favourite windmill - the Maud Foster Mill at Boston, Lincolnshire. It's the third taken from approximately the same spot - a bridge over the Maud foster Drain. And, given the way it looks in this photograph you may wonder what all the fuss is about. If so, admire its full beauty and interest in this shot.

I took today's photograph during a morning shopping expedition into Boston. The weather was slightly overcast but the forecasters had promised sun and cloud, a combination I like for compositions in flat regions where a big area of sky is often unavoidable in a landscape shot. When I framed this photograph the cloud was starting to break up and some blue sky was peeping through. Its reflection on the surface of the large, canal-like drain was quite striking. So I made that the real subject of my shot with the windmill an eye-catcher point of focus at the top of the frame. Its a photograph that makes use of the windmill without showing it off in any way.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14.2mm (38mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Six sails at Sibsey

click photo to enlarge
The other day, when speaking about the eight sailed Heckington windmill, I mentioned the 6-sailer that is Sibsey Trader Mill. I suggested that six sails is less visually satisfying than four or five but better than eight. On our recent visit to Skegness we came home via Sibsey and stopped in at the mill for a cup of tea. And in so doing, I took the opportunity to check whether another viewing would confirm my judgement. It did.

Now that's not to say that there isn't plenty of interest in a windmill, regardless of the number of its sails: there clearly is, both outside and inside. On this particular occasion my photographs of the windmill in its setting were less than satisfactory due to the blank blue sky and the scatter of colourful cars parked at the base of the mill. However, I took a few detail photographs and here are a couple. The shot of the sails, cap and fantail is one that I often take when I visit a windmill. It shows off the intricate woodwork and metal work and fills the frame nicely. The other shot was one that I noticed when we climbed up and down the ladders that connect the several floors. It brought together, so I thought, two themes that I often return to in my photography - window views and shadows. Incidentally I extend my apologies for the tongue-twister title of this post.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 66mm (99mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/160 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Beauty and Heckington windmill

click photo to enlarge
It's good that Heckington windmill, the last remaining 8-sail windmill, is undergoing a restoration, and that the buildings around it are being refurbished and remodelled to make the site into a place that can better welcome visitors. It's good too that the rear of the premises will no longer be the eyesore that it has been for many years. And, it's good that the sails that were succumbing to rot have been replaced and are as they should be. All this is a testament to the hard work and selfless effort of the volunteers who have made, and continue to make, it happen.

However, as I view the mill from the A17 when I'm driving past, or when I stop off in Heckington and have a closer view of the building an unfortunate yet inescapable thought always occurs to me - Heckington mill is undoubtedly the least visually pleasing English windmill that I know.

I recently saw, on successive days, Heckington windmill then Boston's Maud Foster windmill. The temporal proximity of my viewings brought home the agreeable elegance of the latter (probably my favourite windmill) and the ungainliness of Heckington. Where Maud Foster has warm, subtly coloured brickwork contrasting with the white of sails, cap, gallery, windows etc and visually interesting subsidiary buildings, Heckington has cold, stark black and white and seems to tower in an awkward way over a disconnected jumble of sheds. I'm sure the redevelopment will improve the latter aspect. However, it is Heckington's main distinguishing feature that I find most displeasing - eight sails. It is simply too many, makes the mill look top heavy and gives the building something of the character of a whirring desk fan - even when it's stationary! By contrast, the five sails of Maud Foster seem to be the ideal number offering visual interest, pleasing angles and less visual weight.  Four sails are very common on English windmills and usually look fine, six sails are less common and that number is beginning to lose the coherence that characterises fewer sails. Five sails are also less frequently seen than four but that number is definitely - to my mind - the optimum: eight is simply far too many!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Nikon D5300
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (30mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250 sec
ISO:100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Into the light at Cley and Sheringham

click photo to enlarge
A camera never reproduces exactly what your eye sees but in some circumstances the results are way off. Shooting into the light often has unexpected outcomes. Sometimes the shot has high contrast and is very dramatic. At other times the light meter makes a wrong guess and either exposes the sky correctly but leaves the land unnaturally dark, or it exposes the land properly but the nicely figured sky and clouds are blown out to pure white. Cameras can't yet show the range of gradations between black and white that the eye can see though techniques such as multiple exposures and shadow boosting are making inroads into the deficit. Photographers are, by and large, able to work with this inaccuracy and sometimes welcome the camera's results because they "improve" on what the eye saw. At other times extensive digital manipulation is required to bring a better balance and greater verisimilitude to, say, a landscape where the photographer was forced to shoot against the light.

I found myself in that situation a couple of weeks ago. We were passing through Cley next the Sea in Norfolk, the location of one of the most photographed windmills in England, and I thought I'd try for a shot of it in its setting. However, it was half an hour past noon in mid-August, not the best time for landscape photography. Moreover, the view I wanted required me to shoot into the light. The result was a series of images with good sky but dark buildings, marsh and woodland. That's not what my eye saw; the scene was quite brightly lit. So, when I got home I sat down for half and hour or so with the image on the computer and tried to convert my badly exposed shot into something closer to what I saw.

Was I successful? How do you judge success? It's very hard to remember exactly how the scene looked and the relative brightness of all the elements. I suppose one measure of success is that the shot looks natural to someone who wasn't there with me. And yet, I fear that we are sufficiently far down the road in digital photography and manipulation that many people and even more photographers no longer have a secure grasp of  what looks "real" in photographs. I find myself questioning some of the shots that my newspaper presents as a record of an event, and some of the images I see on forums, in photography magazines and in competitions appear to have been taken on a planet other than earth, such is the level of saturation and the balance of tones. Another measure of success is that it looks right to me. This one isn't quite right. Nor is the smaller photograph of the beach huts at Sheringham. But they are both closer to what I saw than the images the camera recorded.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 67mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/800 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Skidby windmill and goggi geeha!

click photo to enlarge
Ever since I first lived on the eastern side of our island I've had an interest in windmills. These buildings (or are they machines?) are distinctive, picturesque, fascinating in their technology and intricacies, and often quite beautiful. The first windmill that I had any sort of familiarity with was the one at Skidby in East Yorkshire. When I lived in that part of the world I often walked or cycled in the vicinity of the distinctive four-sailer on its hill-top site. Its black tower and white ogee cap and sails were a useful landmark as we made our way round the lanes and field paths of the Yorkshire Wolds near Hull.

I've been back to Skidby windmill since we left that part of the country, and I posted a photograph of it in 2006. We visited it again a while ago and had a look round the small museum-cum-visitor centre that has been established in the surrounding buildings and the lower floor of the mill. Unfortunately, on the day we called in we were unable to climb to the other floors. However, that didn't matter because only a few days earlier we'd been up and down the ladders of Sibsey Trader Mill (also a windmill) near Boston. We'd gone there so that my grand-daughter could see the home of "Baby Jake". When my children were small I knew about most of the TV programmes they watched, the characters, the story lines, etc. But now, at my great age, I am ignorant of such things so I had to be enlightened about this epic of toddlers' TV. I won't bore you with the details - this link summarises the show and this one will tell you much more than you will ever want to know. Suffice to say that a modified version of the windmill at Sibsey serves as the home of the baby, his brothers, sisters and his parents, and so is an obvious place of pilgrimage if you are a fan of "Baby Jake" and almost two years old.

This six-sailer is a fine example of the tower mill. It's a relatively late example too, being built in 1877. It gets its name from the Trader (or west Fen) Drain that it overlooks. It worked by wind until 1953 when it was abandoned. The structure was saved in 1970 and restored in 1981. It is now in the care of English Heritage. I took a few photographs on my recent visit though none so good as this one that I posted in 2011.

Goggi geeha to one and all!

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wrawby windmill

click photo to enlarge
The mill at Wrawby that stands proudly on the escarpment above the Ancholme valley is the sole survivor of the Lincolnshire post mills. There were once many windmills of this design, structures that were mounted on a single vertical pole and turned to face the wind by means of a projecting beam rather than the later fantail. Wrawby is a Midlands development of this basic post mill design with a roundhouse made of brick surrounding the supporting trestle and some of the weight of the upper structure borne by wheels and runners on the top of the brick wall. A windmill has been on this site since at least the sixteenth century though the building we see today was constructed in 1832 from the remains of an earlier open trestle mill. It worked until the second world war powered by wind, then steam and finally oil, and after its abandonment fell into serious disrepair.

By the 1960s the mill was close to total collapse: sails were missing, much of the weatherboarding had fallen off, and an application was made for its demolition. However, a stay of execution appeared in the form of a trust set up to preserve it. What followed has been described as "the most comprehensive rebuilding of a windmill undertaken in this country since the nineteenth century." Original components and newly fabricated timbers were assembled to restore the mill to how it had been. The work was completed by a mixture of enthusiasts, academics, former millers, and carpenters and culminated in its official opening on 18th September 1965.

Prior to the invention of spring regulated sails that allowed shutters to be positioned to catch the wind or let it pass through, many windmills used what were known as "common sails". These were cloth sails, edged canvas made of hemp, flax or cotton, fixed to the wooden structure of each sail. Like the sails on a sailing ship the area of canvas could be reefed in if the wind speed increased to a speed greater than was required for efficient milling. An old photo shows this type of canvas sail fixed to the wooden sails of Wrawby mill.

The weather  on the afternoon of my visit - hazy sun trying to burn its way through cloud that had made the morning quite dark - gave enough shadow to model the structure but left the bluish sky looking rather weak and washed out. Consequently I converted my photographs to black and white and applied a digital orange filter to increase the contrast.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Sony RX100
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (54mm - 35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 125
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Kingsforth Windmill, Barton on Humber

click photo to enlarge

The first house we bought was quite old and so to smarten it up we quickly set about painting the main downstairs rooms. However, despite taking great care in the choice and application of paint, we found that on one ceiling it dried, cracked and then flaked, peeling back from the surface. Someone more experienced told us that it must have been painted with distemper, a form of whiting or whitewash, a paint based on chalk or lime, widely used in the nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth century. There was nothing to do but remove all the new paint and old distemper, and get right back to the original plaster surface. It was an arduous task.

What has this to do with my photograph of the remaining tower of Kingsforth windmill in Barton on Humber, Lincolnshire? Well, during the first part of its life as a working mill, as well as grinding the usual corn it had an additional pair of vertical edge runner stones that produced Paris Whiting from local chalk. This was the best grade of whiting with uses in putty making as well as the production of whitewash and distemper. But, whether due to changing fashion, newer technology, or some other reason, the production of whiting ceased in 1859, though corn milling continued until 1950.

Kingsforth windmill is a tall, tower mill with an ogee cap,  a type common in Lincolnshire. It dates from around 1800, was erected on the site of an earlier windmill, and is unusual in having chalk rubble between the brick walls. The black finish is pitch, designed to improve the weather protection, something that is also widespread in the eastern counties. A granary building is attached to the tower which today houses a pub, "The Old Mill". The mill itself originally had six sails. However, when one blew off in 1868 the power for milling was changed to the town's gas supply. Consequently, the view that we see today is the one seen for most of the windmill's life. I quickly took a photograph as we passed by. But, as we continued on our way a Royal Mail worker delivering letters on a bicycle came by, adding a little local colour and making for a more interesting and better balanced composition.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 32mm
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/320 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Old windmill, new sails

click photo to enlarge

I hadn't anticipated dull and dreary skies when we decided we'd visit Moulton windmill to see its new sails. After all, the forecast was for sunshine and showers. But, as we sat and ate our lunch and heavy drops of rain started to fall I began to fear the worst. Even as we journeyed the few short miles to the mill, the tallest in England, I retained a lingering hope that a patch of clear, or at least interesting sky would coincide with our time there. And it did. Unfortunately it was when we were inside the mill having a guided tour! Consequently the shots of the exterior that I'd hoped for didn't materialise, and the photograph above, taken from the external fourth floor reefing gallery (balcony), is the only one that I took of the new sails that is worth reproducing. However, I did get a photograph of Moulton church from the same balcony, and I include a photograph of the mill's stones that I took on a previous visit.

The original sails of Moulton windmill were removed after they were damaged in a gale in 1894, a severe "blow" that inflicted injury on a number of Lincolnshire mills. In subsequent years the millstones were powered by steam, diesel, then electricity, before milling finally ended in 1995. The charitable trust that acquired the mill set themselves the task of restoring it to the point where it could begin wind-powered milling again as a tourist attraction The most important step on that journey was accomplished on 21st November 2011 when new sails were fitted. The next step will be taken on 29th April 2012 when, wind permitting, the sails will be allowed to turn. Then, on 5th May 2012 (also wind permitting) milling will be undertaken. The resulting bags of flour are to be sold to visitors and local businesses.

Over the years I've looked at a number of windmills, read a few books on the subject, and increased my understanding of these buildings/machines. However, on my recent visit to Moulton I clarified a point that I was unclear about concerning millstones. I've seen many circular millstones that are made of a single piece of stone, and many that are made with a number of interlocking pieces of stone that are held together with iron bands around the rim. Why the difference? Apparently most of the single stones are older, Derbyshire gritstone examples. The pieced millstones are made of French stone that originally came into the country as ballast in ships. The latter could be assembled very quickly whilst the former had to be ordered years in advance and cut out of the outcrops on the Derbyshire moors. Clearly the assembled stones were cheaper, could be ordered nearer to the time they were required, and were as good if not better than the locally sourced stones. Moulton has examples of both kinds.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1
Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
 F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 sec
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  -0.67 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Derelict windmills

click photo to enlarge

A tall, well-maintained tower windmill, its white sails slowly turning against a deep blue sky is one of the finest sights that England, especially Eastern England, can offer. Whether the main structure is unadorned brick or coated in black bitumen, whether the cap be ogee-form or something plainer, and regardless of the presence or otherwise of ancilliary buildings, to approach one of these half-building/half machines is always a joy. And it is, perhaps, knowing what a restored, working windmill can be that makes the sight of a derelict example such a sad, forlorn prospect.

Anyone who keeps up with this blog on a regular basis, particularly if they are not based in England, may be under the impression that our countryside is dotted with beautifully maintained, working windmills. The unfortunate fact is that derelict mills where only the tower remains, or the stump of a tower, or a tower and a couple of sail shafts, far outnumber the complete examples. Some of these "lost" windmills have been converted into desirable, up-market houses, usually by making use of adjoining buildings, or with the addition of a newly built extension. But most simply languish in neglected corners of farmyards or out in the fields, slowly succumbing to age and the weather. It's not surprising that this should be so, the time of the windmill is long past, and the number of people willing to expend their money and energy on restoration is limited.

Today's photograph shows the derelict tower windmill at Shepeau Stow, Lincolnshire. The "keystoned" segmental arches over the doorway and windows suggest that it dates from the late 1700s or early 1800s. The small red brick building must have been associated with the mill, though it appears to be of a later date. The bricks look like they were once bituminised. At the very top of the tower is a row of dogtooth brickwork, so all that is missing from above this level is the cap, sails and fantail. Apparently the collapsed floors still have, buried beneath them, the original millstones and machinery. The records show that it lost its sails in the early 1920s and was engine-powered for a number of years - the two, very odd looking, external wheels were probably installed at this time to receive drive belts. In1935 it was reported to be capless, and today it is the wreck that my photograph shows.

I suppose that I should have photographed this windmill under a heavy, cloudy sky, and converted my image to black and white: that might be seen as better suiting the subject. But, photography is as much about representing and recording the world as we see it, as it is about imposing our feelings on a subject, and on the day I passed by the February light was bright, the afternoon sky a fine, strong blue, and all the colours deeply saturated.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 28mm
F No: 7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Sibsey Trader Mill

click photo to enlarge

Lincolnshire was, and still is, a land of windmills. More than one hundred towers remain standing, in various states of repair, sentinels reminding us of a time before electricity and the internal combustion engine, when wind power was harnessed to the cause of milling grain. Enthusiasts have restored a number of these mills to working condition, and charities and the energy of volunteers keep quite a few open to the public. The other day I visted such a windmill, managed by English Heritage, at the village of Sibsey a few miles north-east of Boston.

The Sibsey Trader Mill was built in 1877 by Saunderson of Louth to replace a small post-mill. It is a striking building, one of the few remaining 6-sail English mills, measuring 74 feet to the top of its cap, with six floors. In the flat landscape it looks taller than it is, and compared to many it is of only average height. The mill was used commercially until 1954 by which time it was operated with four sails. After it closed it became derelict. However, in 1971 it was taken into the care of the Department of the Environment and restored to static condition. In 1981 further work restored it to working condition. Today visitors can see the complete process of milling and can buy bags of the stone-ground wholemeal flour. We did so and found that bread made with it was of a "smoother" consistency than that made with most commercially supplied brands.

I enjoy photographing windmills, not only for the beauty of the part building/part machine structure, but because they offer so many different possibilities for an image. On this occasion I decided to set the building in its landscape and let it be seen against the soft winter sky. For other photographic approaches to Lincolnshire windmills see these images of Heckington, Heckington again, Maud Foster, Boston, Burgh le Marsh, and Moulton. For a wider collection of my windmill images from across the country, click here.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm
F No: 7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.33 EV
Image Stabilisation: On 

Maud Foster windmill, Boston

click photo to enlarge

Approximately 300 windmills are known to have existed down the centuries in the area that we now know as Greater London. A few of these date from the period between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries, but most were built in the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Much of this area was rural in the distant past, and the windmills in the villages that were swallowed up by the capital city's spread would have looked much like the village mills that are sprinkled across eastern and southern England today. However, many of London's windmills were in the heavily built up parts of the city. For example, sixteen windmills are known to have operated in West Ham, and Whitechapel had three. There were even windmills in Mayfair and Marylebone. The information about London's mills comes from written documents, but also from paintings and drawings of the city. Interestingly there are only eight windmills remaining in Greater London today.

Windmills are often thought of as structures of towns, villages and the countryside. In fact, many large towns and cities had them within their boundaries. That's not surprising really because in an urban area the market for a mill's produce is on its doorstep. When I lived in Kingston upon Hull, many years ago, I was always aware of a derelict mill on Holderness Road. Today it is restored and adjoins a pub, the only remaining survivor of over twenty windmills that once graced the city.

Several windmills are also known to have been built in the Lincolnshire town of Boston. Today the only remaining example is the Maud Foster Windmill that stands beside the Maud Foster Drain. And what an example! It is a fine, five-sailed, seven storey, brick tower mill built in 1819. Unlike many Lincolnshire mills it wasn't painted with black bitumen to keep out the rain, and its rustic brickwork blends beautifully with the white paint of the windows, wooden gallery, ogee cap, sails and fan-tail. I passed Maud Foster on a day when the sky was filled with soft, fleeting clouds blown on a wind that was turning the sails to mill the flour that is sold to visitors. The photograph I captured contrasts strongly with one that I took a few months after I settled in Lincolnshire.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 20mm (40mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1600
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Windmill sack winch

click photo to enlarge

When I first saw the object in this photograph two thoughts crossed my mind. The first was that it reminded me of the old mangle (wringer in US-English) that I remember my mother using when I was very small. For those who are not familiar with such a device, it is the forerunner of the spin dryer and every subsequent machine designed to mechanically remove water from recently washed clothes. The second thought was that no, it's not a mangle, but it could be a dastardly instrument of torture! Anything with a big handle and cogs can bring to mind the medieval rack, and the two holes in the floor reminded me of the holes for wrists in some village stocks and reinforced that line of thought.
However, unless the miller was a rural Sweeney Todd, bulking out his produce with the dessicated remains of his victims, I had to concede that this was unlikely.

Our guide put my mind at rest by revealing that it was nothing more dangerous than a sack winch or hoist. Like all cogs in a mill this has a wheel with metal teeth that meshes with a wheel whose teeth are made of wood. The reason for this is to reduce the risk of fire or explosion caused by sparks igniting the flour dust that would fill the air when the windmill was at work. That also accounts for the leather hinges on the trapdoor in the floor.

I took this photograph during a tour of Dobson's Mill at Burgh le Marsh, Lincolnshire. The very directional light from the nearby window gave the old machine a strong silhouette and good shadows that suggested a photograph. I used the 16:9 aspect ratio of the LX3 in portrait format since it best fitted the subject. A couple of other shots from my visit to the windmill can be seen here.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Lumix LX3
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2
Shutter Speed: 1/40
ISO: 80
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Dobson's Mill, Burgh le Marsh

click photo to enlarge
In recent years I've taken an interest in the half-machine/half-building that is the windmill. In my journeys around Britain I come across them reasonably regularly. They aren't evenly spread through these windy islands: in the hills and mountains of the north and west the water-powered mill located on a stream or river was more often favoured, though on the Fylde Plain of west Lancashire they were found (and still are found) in sufficient numbers that it was known as "windmill land". In the main, however, the east and south of England was the domain of the windmill and it is here that the majority of those that remain can be seen. Many windmills have lost their sails and remain as forlorn, tapering towers, sometimes with, but more often without, their original cap. A significant number of these have been turned into desirable residences. Those with sails are usually in the hands of local authorities, charitable trusts established for the purpose of maintaining the structure, or are the property of private owners. A while ago I visited Moulton windmill in south Lincolnshire: the other day I had a look at Dobson's Mill at Burgh le Marsh near Skegness, also in Lincolnshire.

This windmill is owned by the local council and looked after by a small group of enthusiastic volunteers. It is a tarred, brick-built, five storey structure erected in 1813 by Sam Oxley of Alford. One of the features that distinguishes it from most other tower windmills is the fact that its five sails are left-handed, which means they rotate clockwise. I had a tour of the inside, and found that quite a bit of the original, early nineteenth century fittings and machinery are still in place. My main photograph shows two of the millstones, the top one partly encased in wood of Georgian-period manufacture. Resting on it are a variety of old tools, including some that are used in re-cutting the heavy stones after they have become worn through the regular grinding of corn. The sight of these haphazardly assembled old implements seemed a good subject for a sepia-toned image, and that is how I present it.The smaller image shows the windmill in context with its attendant corrugated steel sheds.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Photo 1 (Photo 2)
Camera: Lumix LX3 (Olympus E510)
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 5.1mm (24mm/35mm equiv.) (15mm (30mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f2 (6.3)
Shutter Speed: 1/30 (400)
ISO: 200 (100)
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV (-0.3 EV)
Image Stabilisation: On

Moulton Windmill

click photo to enlarge
The windmill at Moulton in Lincolnshire measures 100 feet to the tip of its ogee cap, making it the tallest in Britain. It was built for Robert King in 1822, and remained in constant use as a working mill for over 170 years, until 1995, when its then owner retired. However, for much of that time it had no sails, and thereby hangs an interesting story.

The tower is made of red brick with an outer skin of yellow brick, and has nine wooden floors and a basement. From the time of its construction the mill ground wheat and other cereals for the local farms. On the wooden stairs, walls and machinery inside the mill one can see the pencil calculations of cost, and quantity relating to the grain that went through it at various times. There are also pencil records of when repair and maintenance was carried out, and the signatures of various visitors. In 1894 a fierce storm wrecked a number of Lincolnshire mills. Moulton lost all its four sails, the windshaft and brake wheel. The following year a steam engine was linked to the mill mechanism and stones, and the milling continued under this form of power until it was superseded by a diesel engine. The mill cap was repaced by a utilitarian corrugated metal roof in 1928, and for most of the twentieth century the mill concentrated on producing animal feed.

In 1998 a local group got together with the aim of restoring the mill to its original working condition. With the help of grants from the Heritage Lottery Fund and other sources the mill was refurbished including the addition of a new cap. A cafe, shop and visitor centre was opened in the ancillary building to attract visitors, and tours of the windmill were made available to the public. Grinding re-started using an electric motor. Recently a new external gallery has been fitted where the old one was fixed, and it is about to be completed with cast metal inserts. But, of course, no windmill can be considered complete without a set of sails that drive the machinery. Fundraising continues to achieve the sum - £135,000 - that is necessary to have these made and fitted. Once that happens the mill will be made to work in the way it did back in 1822. The other day I had a tour of this venerable building and found it fascinating. I was also impressed by the dedication and perseverance of the volunteers who are working tirelessly to achieve their goal of a complete restoration of the mill.

More information about Moulton windmill, including visitor details, can be found here.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f5.6
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Painting Heckington windmill

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I posted a blog piece about Heckington's famous 8-sail windmill about a year ago, and in that entry discussed a little of English windmills in general and the history of this one in particular. What I didn't touch on, however, is the fact that Heckington is one of the mills that are painted black. These are not uncommon in Eastern England. Skidby Windmill, in East Yorkshire, is another black windmill that I blogged about a few years ago. This dark finish is most often applied to brick-built post-mills, though some timber structures are similarly treated. There are those who don't like to see windmills finished in this way, regarding them as sombre looking, and seeing the paint as hiding the warmth of the underlying brick. Such people prefer to see the bricks as they are on Thaxted mill. However, there's no denying that when it is paired with white sails and fantail, as well as white painted wooden detailing (windows, doors, rails, and an ogee cap) the black paint looks very striking. What I don't know is if any windmills were painted in this way immediately after they were built, or whether the bitumen-based covering was always applied at a later date in response to the penetration of damp.

When I passed Heckington windmill the other day I saw a blue "cherry-picker" and a couple of workmen busy repainting the tower. They'd masked the windows with plastic and were applying the sticky liquid with long handled brushes, the old paint looking dull next to that which they were laying on. The substance they were using certainly had the look of bituminuous paint, but I suppose it could have been one of the newer acrylic products. It was an interesting scene, so I took a few shots of them at their work, and post both the best of my selection and a general view above.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 67mm (134mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/800
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Thaxted windmill

click photo to enlarge
There was a time when it seemed that windmills would all but disappear from Britain, perhaps remembered only by a few restored, museum-like examples or those that were turned into desirable country dwellings. A few struggled on as working buildings into the 1950s, but their time had long passed, new methods of milling superseding the old ways. Being tall structures, erected in exposed positions where they would catch the wind, many soon fell into disrepair once regular maintenance ceased. Gales removed sails, fantails and roofs. Penetrating rain and frost did the rest of the damage, and many were reduced to sad, beheaded stumps. But, as is often the way, just as it seemed that windmills were on their way out people started to realise what was happening, to mourn what was being lost, and in localities up and down the country individuals, groups of civic-minded people and enthusiasts turned their attention to restoring these fascinating relics that are half building, half machine. Today they are a reasonably common sight in central, eastern and southern England, and quite a few have been restored to working condition.

The example shown in today's photograph is at Thaxted in Essex. It is a red brick, tower mill that was built for John Webb in 1804. He was a local landowner and innkeeper whose brickworks supplied the bricks for the building. It stands in a commanding position in a field by the edge of the small town, one of two beacons, with the medieval church, that are immediately visible to the visitor as he approaches this ancient and attractive settlement. Thaxted's mill was one of those that fell into disrepair in the mid-twentieth century. But, in 1972 the process of restoration began, and today it is fully restored with machinery inside, and is open to the public.

My photograph has been converted to black and white with the digital version of a red filter to darken the sky, emphasise the clouds and vapour trails, and make the lighter building stand out more strongly from its background.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 25mm (50mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Heckington eight-sail windmill

click photo to enlarge
Three types of traditional windmill are to be found in England. The oldest is the post-mill, a relatively light-weight, mainly wooden structure with no fan-tail, that is turned into the wind with a tiller beam. One at Outwood, Surrey, dates from 1665, though many examples no longer standing were built before that date. Next comes the smock mill, so called because its tapered, boarded, octagonal tower resembles a nineteenth century countryman's smock. That at Lacey Green, was built in 1650. The final development was the tower mill, and this is the type most commonly seen today.

Tower mills were developed in the eighteenth century and have a round or octagonal brick or stone tower similar to a lighthouse. The wooden top revolved so that the sails always pointed into the wind. This was achieved by another eighteenth century development - the fantail - that worked much like the broad end of a weather vane, but had the added advantage of small blades that could be used to power a hoist. The movement of the main sails was transmitted to millstones through a series of shafts and cogs. In 1919 there were 350 working windmills: today there are about 24, though many more stand with motionless sails and silent machinery, or have been converted into houses. An even greater number of sail-less towers can be seen.

Today's photographs show the tower mill at Heckington, Lincolnshire. It was built in 1830 as a five-sailed windmill driving three pairs of stones, and milled grain for 60 years until the cap and sails were destroyed by wind in 1890. However, in 1891 an enterprising man bought the eight-sailed top of the defunct Tuxford windmill and matched it up with the remaining stump at Heckington. He set the mill to work again and it continued until 1946, also powering a circular saw-mill! Since that time it has seen restoration by enthusiasts, and in recent years has been open to the public.

You might wonder why my images don't show the full splendour of those eight sails. Well, the fact is that behind the windmill (to windward) is a an absolute eye-sore of stored bales of plastic and cloth, gas cylinders, derelict buildings and parked lorries. Not the most photogenic foreground for this venerable and unique structure!

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Top Image
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/250
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Bottom Image
Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 14mm (28mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Cley next the Sea

click photo to enlarge

I read the other day that wheat accounts for a mere 13% of the price of a loaf of bread in the UK. Since the average loaf is currently £1.10, and bakers are agitating for super- markets to add a further 10p, perhaps increasing numbers of households will see the wisdom in baking their own "staff of life". The rise in the price of food across the world has already seen packets of vegetable seeds flying off the shelves in volumes not seen for many years as more British families turn to their garden rather than the store as the source of their greens. And, though one has to be concerned about the affordability of basic foodstuffs, the benefits to health, wealth, well-being and the environment that flow from making and growing more of our own food are to be welcomed.

Fifty years ago much more food was produced in the family kitchen and from the family garden or allotment. Back then it happened principally for reasons of economy, but taste, nutrient value, relaxation and exercise were also factors. Many families, including my own, have always baked bread and grown vegetables, but until recently, despite the proselytising of TV chefs and gardeners, it was a slowly dying practice. So, if it makes a comeback - for whatever reason - I say "Hooray!"

The image of this much photographed windmill at Cley next the Sea, Norfolk, prompted these thoughts. Its turning sails and grinding stones produced flour from the time of its construction in 1819 until its closure as a mill in 1921. I imagine most of its produce was sold in the immediate locality, and turned into bread and other delicacies in fireside ovens, ranges and cookers. Since the time the sails were stilled it has been a home and a bed and breakfast. Old photographs show the building reflected in the harbour with boats alongside. However, like the village of Cley (pronounced "Cly") the mill is no longer "next the Sea", due to land drainage and the silting up of the harbour. Today a walk of almost a mile is necessary to find the beach!

I took this shot of the marsh, mill and nearby cottages as the sun illuminated them against a dark and threatening sky.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 55mm (110mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On