top of page

Screen Shot 2021-11-01 at 6.28.42 PM.png

Millican Dalton: A Sublime Midlife Crisis

The relevance of a 20th century cave-dweller to environmental aesthetics.

Wednesday, 23 December 2020

borrowdale pic 1.jpg

At the mouth of the cave at Borrowdale, May 2020. Photograph: Lewis Eaton.

On a swelteringly hot day in the North Western Fells of The Lake District, the gaping mouth of a cave offered itself as a refuge and swallowed us mercifully into its cool damp interior. Caves are otherworldly places. This particular cave, set into the hillside of Castle Crag, allows you to peer out at the gently swaying trees and glimmering daylight of the outside world from a viewing point void of light and sound. The daytrip itself had been to seek refuge in The Lakes; an attempt at replacing the stagnancy of a locked-down city summer with a more welcome, less claustrophobic, kind of tranquillity. We spent a few minutes scrambling around on the siltstone, marvelling at the height of the cave walls and exchanging the obligatory comments about feeling small in big spaces. On leaving, I noticed a large, flat stone covered in scrawlings. At the centre in neat, deeply-etched letters read ‘Don’t Waste Words, Jump to Conclusions’ with dozens of smaller sections of writing surrounding this. Each gave names and dates, with many faded with age and dissolving back into the stone’s surface. It was from a frantic Googling during the car ride home that I came to find out we had happened across a sort-of pilgrimage place for hikers: the cave in which a man had lived out his summers for over forty consecutive years.

In 1904, at the age of thirty-six, Millican Dalton gave up his life as an insurance clerk in London in order to dedicate himself to The Great Outdoors. Having spent part of his childhood in Nenthead, the North Pennines, he found life and work in the capital stifling in comparison. From then on Dalton split his year, spending the summer months in the cave under Castle Crag and winters in a canvas hut in Buckinghamshire. Far from your conventional hermit, Dalton was an active and sociable member of the community. He organised camping excursions for the outdoors novice which included teaching hiking, rock climbing, rafting and how to forage for food. What I found extraordinary for the time was that these excursions didn’t exclude women, with one of Dalton’s advertisements for a mountaineering course stating his views bluntly: “Ladies are welcome to the camp. There is nothing new in ladies camping, the custom being at least 10,000 years old.” This rare indiscriminate approach led to Dalton forging a long-lasting friendship with geologist Mabel Barker, who over the years consistently recommended Dalton’s courses to women students and friends.

Millican and Mabel.jpg

Dalton and Barker atop a needle, 1913. The Mable Barker Collection.

ARCHIVE

Take a look...

Find all our of old features and articles below...

Frances Morris

Frances Morris

This article was previously published in the special edition, ALUMNAE (December 2018). MA 1983 Tate Modern is definitively one of the...

Pamela Tudor-Craig

Pamela Tudor-Craig

This article was previously published in the special edition, ALUMNAE (December 2018). 1928 - 2017 BA 1949, PhD 1952 When thinking about...

Cindy Sherman on the Veneer of Fashion

Cindy Sherman on the Veneer of Fashion

A film star, a clown, a middle-aged socialite. These are some of the many faces of distinguished photographer Cindy Sherman on display at...

Open Space 2019: In Conversation with Huma Kabackı

Open Space 2019: In Conversation with Huma Kabackı

This article was previously published in Issue 20, ISLANDS (March 2019). Pluto's Kitchen by Işıl Eğrikavuk, Co-commissioned by Block...

Is Cocoa Colonialist? A Brief History and Attempt at Criticism

Is Cocoa Colonialist? A Brief History and Attempt at Criticism

This article was previously published in Issue 20, ISLANDS (March 2019). Islands have occupied much of my research interests since taking...

Smirna Kulenović: In the Absence, The Artist is Present

Smirna Kulenović: In the Absence, The Artist is Present

This article was previously published in Issue 19, ABSENCE (December 2018). Bosnian artist Smirna Kulenović was born in Sarajevo in 1994...

Clara Peeters on Her Own Terms

Clara Peeters on Her Own Terms

This article was previously published in Issue 19, ABSENCE (December 2018). ‘Absence’ is not the first word one thinks of upon seeing a...

The Project

The Project

This article was previously published in Issue 19, ABSENCE (December 2018). On the 27th May at about 8pm, I stood trembling before my...

Jenna Burchell: Musing on Memory and Mending

Jenna Burchell: Musing on Memory and Mending

This article was previously published in Issue 19, ABSENCE (December 2018). One of South Africa’s earliest new media artists, Jenna...

The Intrigue of Absence: The Subjectless Subject in Giulio Campagnola’s ‘Reclining Woman’

The Intrigue of Absence: The Subjectless Subject in Giulio Campagnola’s ‘Reclining Woman’

This article was previously published in Issue 19, ABSENCE (December 2018). Few things are more frustrating than the unidentifiable...

2

3 4 5

bottom of page