INTO THE DALES - A Northern Coast to Coast Walk: From St Bees to Robin Hood's Bay - page 82

The path skirts dilapidated sheds and rusting farm equipment, gently
climbing all the time, until, at its highest point, the fields broaden, a more
satisfying vista opens up ahead, and the route begins a steady descent to
a broad track serving Nun Cote Nook farm.
At the track go right, through a gate, and almost immediately left (sign-
posted), continuing across broad meadowlands to the charmingly renov-
ated cottage at Ellers. Pass around Ellers and cross Ellers Beck by a foot-
bridge, then slanting up the next two fields to reach a gate near the access
track to Hollins Farm. Beyond Hollins Farm, Hutton's Monument, a towering obelisk
in view for some while, commemorates Matthew Hutton, a member of the once-influential
family that lived at Marske Hall.
Follow the track right for a short distance, and then, without entering
Hollins Farm, go left, skirting a small copse to a stile. Cross the next field
to a wall, and follow the wall left and, just as it enters a confined path-
way, use a gate on the right to cross the ensuing field diagonally to gain
the once-important road linking Reeth and Richmond, there descending
steeply, right, into Marske village.
MARSKE
Marske lies in an insignificant side valley of the Swale, a delightful retreat quietly going
about its own business, where, it seems, only the tread of walkers disturbs the peace.
The grounds of nearby Marske Hall add much to the village's natural loveliness, while
the 12th-century church of St Edmund is worth a moment's pause.
The Huttons were the dominant family at Marske Hall for many years, producing two
Archbishops of York, but, as W Riley mentions in The Yorkshire Pennines of the North-
West (1934), 'The dale has bred men of another kidney besides bishops.' His grand-
father used to tell of, 'the carryings-on there used to be in the big houses in his day,
when the gentry wouldn't let their guests leave the table till they were too drunk to
walk upstairs to bed; and the common folk were just as bad - mad on cock-fighting
and coursing.'