BY absolute chance, my weekend wanderings dragged my happy family up Arkengarthdale. It's a narrow dale, north of Reeth. It's a little more desolate than Swaledale, and we crouched behind a wall above a hamlet called Booze and ate our picnic while watching light squalls of rain drift through the dale. We only had wheatears for company.

When we got back down to river level, I persuaded them to have a quick look at the Church of St Mary the Virgin in Langthwaite. In the graveyard, there are buried plenty of Barninghams who would be related, I guess, to the hero of this morning's Memories: William Barningham, the grocer's son born in Arkengarthdale in 1826 who became one of the richest industrialists in the North-East through his ironworks on Albert Hill, Darlington.

So I guess William must have stood in front of the church in much the same way that we were (I'd go further to say he looked up at the black skeleton clockface with its unusual silver numbers, but I doubt it was installed in his day).

The church was rebuilt in 1817-20 and several of the headstones make reference to people being buried in "the old churchyard". I believe this was a mile or so nearer Reeth at Arkle Town - which doesn't seem to be much of a town at all. Or a village. Or a hamlet.

In fact, we missed it completely as we drove through. I believe the old graveyard, with a few headstones still standing, is in a sheep field.

I wonder what Arkengarthdale was like in 1839 when 13-year-old William walked with his mum to Shildon in search of work.

Just looking at the size of the church and at the enormity of the 1888 Wesleyan chapel nearby (what is the definition of an optimist? A Methodist chapel designer)Arkengarthdale must have been far busier than it is now. It had a population of about 1,500 and the daleside all around is scarred by the bellpits and hushes of the leadminers who were producing 2,000 tons a year.