Limestone quarries and large lorries transporting loads have been a feature of the area around Settle and Horton-in-Ribblesdale for many years. Dr Bill Mitchell looks at how the quarrying industry has been part of the landscape for many, many years

Among the sights and sounds in the market town of Settle is the passage of numerous huge lorries. Men sitting in cabs high above the road drive these mechanical monsters adroitly through an area which can be constricted, especially on market day. I marvel at their driving skill and consideration for other road users.

Their mission is to collect lime from a huge quarry at Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

Before limestone was commercially produced, farmers in the dale had their own kilns. These were small and stone-built. Peat was frequently used as fuel. Today, most of the field kilns are semi-ruined, overgrown with vegetation. Some were stripped to provide material for drystone walls.

Whenever I see a large lorry wending its cautious way through Settle, I think back to a time when most of the North Ribblesdale lime was shifted by rail. It also came back to mind when, not long ago, I chatted with Mark Rand. He was painting a newly-assembled rail wagon beside his imposing home – the former water tower at Settle railway station. Also into my mind came the time when I researched the life and business activities of John Delaney. He was born in Ireland in 1846 – known as the Hungry Forties – and worked for a time at Christie’s mill in Langcliffe. In adulthood, John exploited limestone on a grand scale with quarries at Horton-in Ribblesdale and Threshfield.

Within fifteen years he had made a fortune. He was aided by John Winskill, who built him a stone kiln at Beecroft. This name for the Horton quarry took its name from that of a farm. When lime-burners from Scotland were not successful, John Delaney recruited quarrymen from Derbyshire. Lime, quarried in the Craven Dales, transported by rail, helped to meet the needs of the burgeoning steel mills of Sheffield.

In the recollection of Wilfred Johnson, an old friend living in Settle, John Delaney was a man of medium build, broad, with a large white beard and a large nose down which, curiously, he tended to talk. He owned one of the first cars in the district but never learnt to drive himself.

For a time Carrie, his daughter, who in business sense was her father’s “right hand man”, drove him around. She was inclined to crash the car gears on the narrow steep roads leading from Settle to where his quarries were situated. John employed William Barwick as a chauffeur. He was to stay with the family for over forty years.

Delaney was clever and tough in business. He still had a lot of native Irish charm and was described by his daughter as being “soft” at home. He was a great lover of that home, Overdale, built in the 1890s and he strove to be at home every night.

His outlook on life was transformed in 1876 when he became a devout Catholic. He loved animals and would sit up all night with a sick puppy. There were uneasy times as he lay in bed at about four o’clock in the morning – and, having checked his watch, he wondered because the Scotch express had not gone by on time.

Delaney had some interesting whims. He arranged for water to be drawn from a spring in Beecroft quarry at Horton each day and delivered to Settle. He preferred this water to the supply that gushed from the local taps.

Delaney died on Christmas Day, 1921. Up to a few days before his death he was still actively engaged in business. He had contracted pernicious anaemia for which, in those days, there was no cure. The little Quaker graveyard at Settle was crowded for his funeral. When his will was published it was found that John Delaney had left the sum of £5 to every workman in his employment.

The quarry at Horton continued to evolve. In the 1950s the quarry-owners dealt with a quarter of a million tons of incoming coal and outgoing lime each year. At that time lime was being mainly used as a flux in the Scottish steel industry and for surfacing roads.

Banking between forty and fifty empty wagons at Horton could be spectacular. The driver took the train well up the line. The shunter, after ensuring that all was well, tipped off the Stationmaster. He alerted the loco driver, who opened the regulater fully and the deed was done. If there was a derailment, the Hellifield steam crane was summoned.