THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

To-day is a grey day, and the sun as I write is hidden in thick clouds, high over Kettleness.  Everything is grey – except the green grass, which seems like emerald amongst it; grey earthy rock; grey clouds, tinged with the sunburst at the far edge, hang over the grey sea, into which the sand-points stretch like grey fingers.  The sea is tumbling in over the shallows and the sandy flats with a roar, muffled in the sea-mists drifting inland.  The horizon is lost in a grey mist.  All is vastness; the clouds are piled up like giant rocks, and there is a “brool” over the sea that sounds like some presage of doom.

Stoker/Dracula

On 17 December 1829, heavy rain caused a dramatic collapse of the cliffs, sending the entire hamlet of Kettleby sliding into the sea. Fortunately, the inhabitants had taken shelter in a ship, the Little Henry, lying just offshore. The vessel had arrived to collect alum, but this was one cargo she would have to  forego, for not only was Kettleby village destroyed but so were its alum works, which did not resume production for two years.

Mead/Inside