‘With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;

… For the rain it raineth every day.’

I think there may have been one (fully) dry day so far in 2026 (writing this on February 15), but I couldn’t tell you when. All to do with some front over Scandinavia blocking the one that has been emptying rain, more rain, and showers on the UK for weeks. Sometimes, that rain has fallen as snow.

So far this winter, we have also had storms Claudia, Bram, Goretti, and Chandra. 

My heart goes out to all our farmers, still recovering from last year when it was too little rain that led to poor harvests of both commercial crops and fodder for cattle now stuck indoors.

This ‘blocking’ seems to occur every year now, along with storms that dump terrible amounts of rain on already saturated ground on a single day or night. 

But Cumbrian Characters isn’t about climate change today/ tomorrow. Today’s post is about bad weather in the winter of 1852-53.

And if anyone is tempted to use that as ‘there’s always been bad weather,’ let’s start with the Carlisle Journal of the day pointing out that the two storms they were reporting on: ‘have not been equalled since January 1839.’

Cumbria had had a wet winter, but it had been spared the wind. Until:

‘About midnight, however, on Friday, or rather early on Saturday morning, strong wind arose from the south-west, and gradually increased in strength till about four o’clock, when it blew perfect hurricane.’

The Journal’s publication date was Saturday, January 1. It had actually occurred over Christmas.

‘Hundreds of our slumbering citizens were awakened by the dreadful noise … In some parts of the city the houses shook as from the effects of an earthquake, and the upper stories were considered quite insecure, from the frequent rattling of slates, bricks, and chimney pots, as they were momentarily hurled to the streets.’

Many families got out of bed and took refuge in the cellars until the storm had in some degree subsided. 

When the storm subsided, they came out to scenes of devastation, with bricks and slates and chimney pots cast down everywhere and windows blown in.

At Willow Holme, the wool-spinning factory was completely destroyed.

There was a lull that Sunday, but then the storm roared back overnight, causing more damage. The Journal reported some of the damage, but concluded:

‘It would make a very lengthened catalogue were we to enumerate all the damage which house property has sustained.’

Port Carlisle

Port Carlisle escaped damage in the first ‘go’ by the storm, but on the Monday morning the expected 16-foot tide was blown up to 26 feet.

Two ships broke free of their moorings, while the jetty was ‘slightly injured’.

Peter Irving’s ship the Robert Burns, and another brig lying at the wall called the Thomas, rode the gale out in safety.

Penrith  – another great flood

Penrith, which had suffered flooding a week before, found itself again:

‘the scene of a great and boisterous flood’

after rain fell in torrents all the Sunday night and into late Monday afternoon.

Mr Hetherington of the Black Lion Inn had business at The Ship, which was surrounded by water. They laid ‘a scaffolding of planks’ to the kitchen window, which he was using to get out when his pocket book fell in the water, taking 17 £5 notes with it. Amazingly, not on the book but eight of the notes were subsequently found at different locations among the debris (more than a mile away) when the waters went down.

Maryport

At Maryport, the iron lighthouse crashed down and was carried by the waves to the north of the harbour.

Much of the outer pier was also washed away.

Workington

The tide there ‘rose to a height not remembered since 1796,’ causing homes to flood. The old part of the Merchant’s Quay gave way.

Appleby

In Westmorland, the river Eden overflowed its banks in many places. While houses in Appleby, on the Saturday night:

‘rocked to and fro like a cradle’.

Elsewhere

Two miners heading to the Greenside mine at Matterdale were blown off the fell. A John Cleator was carried off his feet for some 50 yards by the wind, landing stunned for a while. His colleague John Killgourn was less lucky. His body was later found about 300 yards from where they had been, killed by his head hitting the crags.

Stay safe out there, folks.