Mexborough & Swinton Times – Friday 05 September 1902
Camp Life at Conisboro’ Cliffs.
A Sheffield Doctor’s Experience.
Dr. Ryes, a well-known Sheffield surgeon, being desirous of spending a pleasant and health giving holiday, decided to camp out at Conisboro’ Cliffs. Accordingly, along with his wife, son and daughter. he made the necessary arrangements and pitched the tout on Tuesday, August 5th, the day following Bank Holiday.
Alter a little prospecting a spot was decided on near the Rainbow bridge, almost underneath Butterbusk Farm. A pleasanter spot could scarcely have been found, being delightfully wooded, and well shaded on all sides. A plentiful supply of pure spring water also available near at hand, and the river Don runs close by.
One of our representatives paid a visit to the camp the other day, and was delighted with all the arrangements, which were complete in every detail. The tent was the very ideal of comfort and was as cosy as any drawing room. Having a wooden floor, and well ventilated and drained, it was also drip dry. Notwithstanding the recent heavy rains the occupants have experienced no discomfort, but appear as hardy as any summer annuals.
The worthy doctor showed a wise determination in deciding on such a course of fresh air treatment for himself and family. After sojourning in their happy retreat for over one month, they one and all pronounce that they have derived much benefit from the outing, and feel in the pink of condition.
During their stay in the Cliffs they have entertained numerous guests – one day 35 in all—their list of friends being legion. Mrs Ryce, who is a French lady, is a typical, large-hearted hostess, her kindly nature spreading sunshine wherever she goes. The completeness of all their domestic arrangements, and the compact way in which all the domestic utensils were stored showed that more than ordinary thought and forethought had been exercised. In addition to the bell tent an excellent substitution for a kitchen was improvised, which was a model of compactness. The interior of an old lime kiln was also utilised as a drying place and proved a very useful adjunct to the whole of the arrangements. No detail was left unrecognised, even steps down to the boat having been cut with much care.
After braying the elements, unpropitious and otherwise, the whole party break up their camp to-day, and return to Sheffield robust, hearty, and cheerful, having benefited much by their encampment.
Our representative was much pleased with his visit and was made very welcome by the occupants of the tent, who evidently are never happy unless they are making other people happy.
The following details from the pen of the worthy doctor will . . . . . be read with much interest :
“Far from the madding crowd!” It is a well-known saying that “those who live in London know best about its sights, and so I fear it is with those who live elsewhere. I and my family have for the last few weeks spent a most enjoyable and inexpensive holiday almost at your own door, on the Cliffs at Conisboro’. I had often spoken to my buys about what jolly times I used to have camping out on the Thames. and so they evidently persuaded me to let them , try the same; and having had more than one pleasant picnic at Sprotboro’, I agreed that we should try and get permission to camp out on the site of one of the old-time kilns under Conisboro’ Cliffs.
This we eventually obtained and none of us have regretted it, notwithstanding the wet weather. We have an army bell tent, with a wood flooring and straw paillasses, shaped to tent, to lay on. We certainly are objects of great interest to the aborigines, who are always in evidence, and cannot quite make us out. Many are the guesses as to the object of our being here, the prevailing one. I believe, is that I am a doctor who has brought his consumptive patients out for treatment. To a certain extent they are right, the consumption of provisions is great, and we shall soon breed a famine in the land if we go on at this rate. Another notion is that we are Gipsies; we certainly look brown enough. One of the company, to keep up the game, commenced telling fortunes (or lies) in the expectation of having his hand crossed with silver; but that did not come off. He delighted his patron by telling her that there was a dark man who wanted her badly; that she was coming in for some money, and that she would have a family of ten; not to mention a slight illness and a journey.
As regards cooking, if anyone meditates trying it some day, a Primus stove is “sine qua non.” They are something after the style of which painters use to burn the paint off. It has many advantages: It gives a splendid heat, has no wick to trim, does not blow out, and has no smell. One day we were invaded with visitors, and to show what it can do we cooked a large piece of salmon; peas and potatoes: with hot plates; custards and stewed fruit. We fill in our time rowing on the river—certainly one cannot row far, but what there is of it (some three miles) from Conisboro’ to Sprotboro,’ it is hard to beat for scenery. We let sleeping dogs lie, and do not stir up the mud. What a pity it is in such a state, I am told that years ago there were plenty of good fish, but with, perhaps the exception of eels there are no fish now. In the, evening we bring out our banjoes and mandolins, and have an open-air concert. The occupants of the “gods.” seated on the cliffs above, look forward to this, and applaud vociferously at times.
One thing I have learnt, and that is that the robin beats the lark into fits as an early riser, and, what is more, is the last to go to roost. We have, of course, a few drawbacks, such as flies, but I find a spraying of oneself with eucalyptus keeps them off; and one morning our “cheff” gave a blood-curdling howl when putting on his boot, for he found a toad had got into one of them; and proposed we should have “toad in the hole” for dinner, but the proposition was not carried, though the toad was—to adistant ditch.
Yes, camping out has its many advantages also, as one lady said when she paid us a visit, “how lovely to be away from the worry of all servants!” We have not even had a visit from the rate collector, or gas man, so here is Utopia with a vengeance.