Agricultural History Review, Volume 62 Part 2 (2014), p. 364

This is a very personal book which carries evidence of David Hey’s love of this area, his deep knowledge of its history and – it must said – his politics. On the face of it, the structure of the book is standard in that it starts with pre-history and works forward to the present day. What makes it distinctive is that, rather than trying to cover the full history of each part of what is (after all) a complex area, Hey discusses in great depth how one or more parts of the Peak District were affected by events. It is a delight to read these discussions, which put the area in context – especially the period up to about 400 ce – without getting bogged down in too much detail. This is not a typical ‘book of X’ but a narrative demonstrating the author’s love and profound knowledge of the Peak District. The story has both bones and flesh to fill the frame. We have here a narrative linking place-names, topography and archaeology to reveal not only the change over time but also parallels with other areas of Britain with which his audience might be more familiar. We are given clear but deep descriptions of events in particular places, which allow the reader to integrate each narrative into a developing understanding.

Hey starts with a broadly based introduction, where he describes such fundamental aspects as topography and vegetation followed by their implications in terms of agrarian potential. These themes are developed further in subsequent chapters, where he never dumbs down the concepts under discussion but approaches each in such a way as to make them accessible to all. Consequently, technical terms are used as an invitation rather than to repel the novice by proclaiming the writer’s expertise. Throughout, Hey wears his scholarship lightly; an educated man chatting to new acquaintances and drawing them in to share his own delight.

The first four chapters are, in many respects, standard history. Chapter 5, ‘Improvement and enclosure’, covers more than the usual ground, for his ‘Peak District’ contains Sheffield, Saddleworth and various other areas not normally included in the designation. This gives a depth to the discussions which is normally lacking when writers confine themselves within the National Park boundaries. This explains what happened prior to the creation of the Park, resulting in some parts being excluded and (naturally enough) it is here that the politics start to show. Chapter 6 takes us across the Grouse Moors from the introduction of guns into what we now call field sports, their impact upon vegetation and wildlife, and the huge amounts of money involved in ‘shoots’. Whilst there are obvious links between field sports and the Right to Roam movement, nevertheless, in some respects, the last two chapters sit a little oddly. That said, Hey sets the record straight on a number of important aspects of such things as Kinder Scout and the legend of mass trespass. These discussions have considerable value, which is not lessened by his own long-term support of the Ramblers’ Association to which reference is made in the Preface. It is in these last chapters that Hey’s politics really stand proud, and there can be no objection to that. Do we not all write under the influence of our personal views? The casual reader will gain a greater understanding of both landscape history and the impact of resource exploitation whilst being handed a framework for reading the landscape. And those of a more academic bent will feel confident that Hey’s facts are reliable (and quotable). Although there are no footnotes, the book has a useful bibliography and index.