THERE was always huge interest when any large estate was offered for sale in the dales in olden days.

But there was a bigger attendance than usual when Sledwich Hall and its 340 acres of prime land went under the hammer in late 1912.

It was regarded as one of the most productive farms in the area, so there was a crush of potential buyers and spectators in the Witham Hall to hear George Tarn Bainbridge, the auctioneer, waxing lyrical about it. He said he had never offered a place more attractive and desirable.

It had some distinguished previous owners, including John Clopton, who was Queen Elizabeth I’s receiver for some northern counties.

It was being sold by the Reverend Michael Hopton, of Helmer Hall, Hereford. After steady bidding it was knocked down for £12,300 to Reginald Pease, of Sadberge Hall, a nephew of railway pioneer Joseph Pease. It is still in the same family.

When Reginald died in 1927 it passed to his son, Philip, and on his death in 1964 it was inherited by its present owner, Nigel Pease, who was born in the house in 1934.

It looks even more majestic now than the man with the gavel claimed it did in 1912.

When I called to take a photograph the charming Mr Pease showed me round.

He explained that after paying £12,300 his grandfather spent a lot of money on a new wing for staff quarters, farm buildings, cottages for farm workers, intricate landscaping and other improvements.

There is a dungeon with a tunnel leading from it towards the river Tees, possibly to help priests hide and escape when Catholics were persecuted.

Mr Pease pointed out the dungeon entrance, but felt it too dangerous for anyone to venture into it now.

But it was used as an air-raid shelter during the Second World War, with sandbags placed over it.

The Northern Echo:
Nigel Pease, the owner of Sledwich Farm

During the auction the old mansion was said to be in a wonderful state of preservation, and its modern farm buildings were in firstclass order.

An expert who had inspected it declared there was not a gap or a wicken to be found on it (wicken was a dialect word for couch grass or other creeping grasses which were difficult to eradicate).

Other fine selling points were that it was well placed near the village of Whorlton and had two railway stations within easy reach at Winston and Barnard Castle.

The auctioneer went on to praise its productive soil, 100 oak trees, superb water supply and valuable sporting rights.

There are now other features such as stabling for many horses and an open-air swimming-pool.

Mr Pease, a former officer in the 9th Lancers, lives there with his wife, Elsa, who is noted for her skill with horses. Their daughter, Karen, an artist, lives in London but also has a house in Streatlam Park.

WHAT are the chances of five brothers all dying from natural causes in less than a year?

The odds against it must be enormous, but it happened to the Hall family at Cockfield.

The brothers were well known, as all five were born and brought up in the village.

The first to pass away was Joseph Hall in October 1911. He was 72 and had a home in the village.

Next was George Hall, who was 83 when he died in Burnthouses, just outside the village, in April 1912.

Third was Thomas Hall, who was 77 when he went to his grave that June, and Ralph Hall was 79 when he followed in August.

These last two lived in Cockfield all their lives but died in Barnard Castle workhouse, a sorrowful fate which befell impoverished folk who could no longer support themselves.

The final one was Moses Maughan Hall, at 70 the youngest of them when he died at Low Lands, close to the village, in September. His middle name had the local pronunciation of “Maffen” and he was generally known as Maff.

The brothers led hard lives, as many families did in those days. It is likely some, if not all of them, worked in local coal mines, the main source of employment.

The Northern Echo:
The five Hall brothers were buried in this cemetery on Cockfield Fell

Their funerals were all held in St Mary’s Parish Church in Cockfield and they were buried in the village cemetery, in a neat area on Cockfield Fell, a ten-minute walk from the church.

But there were no tombstones to mark their graves. Few families could afford inscribed stones in that era.

I’m indebted for these facts to John Hallimond, the Cockfield historian, who copied them from parish records.

After Maff ’s funeral, attended by many relatives and friends, the Darlington and Stockton Times carried a brief paragraph stating that he was the last of five brothers to die within a year. It must have been a strange experience for the people who attended all five funerals.

FOR well over a century the Barnard Castle Dispensary provided a valuable health service for families who couldn’t afford the normal fees.

It helped them recover from all sorts of illnesses and no doubt saved the lives of a large number of patients.

It was set up as a charity in 1835 and moved into rooms at the Witham Hall as soon as it was built in 1848.

So it is fitting that a bright and stylish cafe bar in the refurbished Witham is called The Dispensary, as it dispenses a pleasing range of food and drink, as well as having a historical connection.

To get the medical project started wealthy folk who chipped in £5, a hefty sum in 1835, were appointed governors for life.

Others who gave more modest sums, from the equivalent of 37p or more a year, were able to nominate patients to receive free treatment and medicine.

The Duke of Cleveland, who became president, and John Bowes, a vice-president, were major donors and many businessmen gave £1.

There was a consulting room and two areas for surgical operations, one of which was called the amputation room. Patients with severe limb injuries must have been fearful.

A committee of nine subscribers was elected to meet each month and ensure all was going well.

A doctor was appointed medical officer and had to attend each Tuesday and Friday. He had to deal with just about every illness or injury, but maternity cases and insanity were excluded.

A nurse was on duty most weekdays.

A dentist was called in when required.

Patients who needed medicines had to take in their own bottles or phials.They were warned they had to be decent and sober otherwise they were barred and could never be readmitted without the committee’s consent.

The service was open to folk living in the town or within three miles. Those who were cured had to report as much to the person who nominated them, or they could be drummed out. In the centenary year, 1935, 174 females and 72 males were treated, making a total of 790 visits. Six patients died, 224 were cured or relieved, and 16 were still being treated at the year end.

The Northern Echo:
The stylish Dispensary cafe bar in the refurbished Witham building

The dispensary was often praised for giving superb medical cover to the public but it was no longer needed after the NHS was launched.