 Rivington under anticyclonic gloom
My phone counts steps for me every day, god knows what other information it collects. Those steps don’t mean much to me. I’m still recording miles walked and feet ascended, I know I should have gone metric by now. Today was a day of steps which were too numerous to count.Â
I find myself in Chorley for a hospital appointment. Once it is over I take the opportunity to visit B&Q and Halfords in town. A quick lunch is bought from the nearby Asda and it is decision time, what to do with the rest of the day? A recent post from Michael at   https://michaelgraeme.wordpress.com/2024/10/28/out-and-about-around-rivington-and-anglezarke-again/ was at the back of my mind. I haven’t visited Rivington Terraced Gardens for years and in the meantime, a great deal of restoration work has been carried out unearthing many paths and ruins. Time to go and have a look with the added promise of the autumn colours highlighted in Michael’s post.
I park on one of the many lanes, I don’t have a map of the site so just set off on a likely path.
Soon I find one of the regular explanatory boards and take a poor picture of their rather indistinct plan, which may give me a general idea of my whereabouts. I would suggest that anyone visiting get a copy of a map and certainly, if you are interested in the surprisingly short history of the estate, (started in 1900, abandoned in 1925)Â read this excellent Lancashire Past article. I wish I had before visiting.
To start with the sun is trying to shine and the woods are resplendent. I find myself walking through some sort of remembrance garden planted with foreign-looking conifers. It is half term and there are lots of family groups out enjoying the day.
Coming to the steeper part I see a bridge over a beck tumbling down from the now misty heights and there alongside it a series of stepped paths. I set off up the steep and slippery steps built improbably into the hillside. They have been cleverly constructed of cantilevered gritstone slabs. Upwards I go, not knowing whether the steps will lead me anywhere. Should I even be here, there is certainly nobody else about all of a sudden. Up ahead a pallisaded bridge crosses the ravine and I pause to look back down. Eschewing the traversing trail I tackle more exposed steps winding up alongside the ravine, there is another bridge ahead and here I find a a board explaining the history and construction of The Ravine.
There doesn’t seem to be a way ahead until I spot more steps sloping across the steep hillside which eventually bring me onto a terrace with artificial caves. I had just read that these were the ‘Bear Caves’ constructed to house exotic ferns. There was abundant greenery everywhere, all this had been lost under heavy vegetation until the recent clearings in the last decade. No wonder I have never been here before.
Even more steps, until I suddenly come to a rocky embattlement and escape through an archway into the Japanese Garden with its romantic lake. Thomas Mawson who designed these terraced gardens between 1905-1922 for soap magnate Lord Leverhulme was heavily influenced by Italian and Japanese garden landscaping. I feel I’m exploring the remains of a lost civilisation.Â
The lakeside is a popular picnic area and I’m afraid that the ever-present problem of litter is evident here, and in other areas of the gardens.
Above the lake the stables and enclosed Kitchen Gardens are reached, all rescued from the undergrowth.Everything was done on a grand scale in Lord Leverhulme’s era.
I cross a wide track past one of the original entrances to the gardens and then a long flight of more steps and through an arch into The Lawns. At one time there were six ‘summer houses’, two have survived and been restored. They gave shelter and views out over the lawns and tennis courts. From the balcony atop one of the summer houses you can see how land had been escavated to create the level lawns.
I’m almost at the top of the gardens by now but, you guessed it, more steps take me up to a levelled site where once stood Roynton Cottage and then The Bungalow, one of Lord Leverhulme’s many residences. Read about the chequered history on that Lancashire Past post. All that remains now and recently uncovered is its footprint. 
From here it was a short hop to The Pigeon Tower, Lady Leverhulme’s hideaway. Finally, I recognised somewhere I had visited before, usually on the way up to Rivington Pike and Winter Hill. I won’t be going up the Pike today as we are in thick mist now. Dovecotes are seen in the wall in the first photo. 
I work my way carefully down more slippery steps until I’m on top of a small loggia looking out over The Italian Lake. The water level is low due to seepage and it’s not looking its best. The mist is creeping down the terraces.
The steps continue, I’m now looking for the Seven-Arched Bridge which I remember was hereabouts. I find it by unwittingly walking over it. The lane below is one of the many roads crisscrossing the estate. 
Scrambling down the last bit of hillside I come to the South Lodge remains. Originally there were four lodges on the roads into the estate.
A wide track descends to the Great House Barn, which I remember as a basic cafe under a cruck roof. Now it looks more like a wedding venue, I don’t have the nerve to cross their threshold in my muddy boots.
All I have to do now is find my car, it’s down one of these roads.
My phone says I have stepped 5000 times, it felt like that. I probably walked no more than two miles. The sun disappeared early on so I never saw the best of the autumn colours, but I discovered a whole new world with a fascinating history, and the mellow mists added to the atmosphere. I wonder how many workers Sir Levehulme employed to construct his vision and how many to maintain it? Now we are mainly left with volunteers to keep the gardens accessible.
If you have two or three hours to spare come and get yourself lost in this lost world.
