Coldberry Lead Mine, Teesdale
Set high on the open moorland above Middleton in Teesdale, Coldberry Lead Mine is a place that reveals its story slowly. What at first feels like a modest group of stone and brick buildings soon becomes something far richer, shaped by decades of work, adaptation and quiet determination.
Worked on and off over many years by small groups of miners, Coldberry relied on practical engineering, water power and careful organisation to follow the lead veins underground. The surviving buildings, adits and hushes still reflect that working life today, offering a rare insight into how people lived and worked in this remote part of Teesdale.
This page brings together on site observation and historical records to help explain how Coldberry Lead Mine functioned, how it changed over time, and why it remains an important part of Teesdale’s industrial heritage.
How to get there
Coldberry Lead Mine sits in open moorland above Middleton in Teesdale and can be reached in a few different ways, depending on how much walking you’d like to do and what kind of day you’re planning.
Walking from Middleton in Teesdale
One of the most rewarding ways to reach Coldberry is on foot from Middleton itself. A circular walk of around four miles leads out of the town, through woodland and then onto open moorland, gradually revealing wider views as you climb. It’s a varied and enjoyable route that adds context to the mine, helping you understand just how remote and exposed this working landscape once was.
Walking from Bowlees Visitor Centre
Another option is to start from Bowlees Visitor Centre and combine Coldberry with a longer circular walk of around six miles. This route takes in some of Upper Teesdale’s most dramatic scenery and works well if you want to make a full day of it, linking industrial heritage with waterfalls, open fell and big skies.
Parking closer to the mine
If you’d prefer a shorter approach, it is possible to park closer to Coldberry. From Middleton in Teesdale, follow the road signposted Middle Side, then turn right where signs indicate Auckside / Coldberry. Continue along this track and there is a small place to park not far beyond the mine, close to the bridge over Hudeshope Beck. The nearest postcode is DL12 0PR, though this should be used as a guide rather than an exact destination.
As with much of the North Pennines, access is across open countryside, so sturdy footwear and an awareness of changing weather conditions are always advised.
Coldberry on the moor
A simple stone marker quietly identifies the site, standing against wide open moorland. It’s an understated introduction that reflects the character of Coldberry itself, unassuming at first, but full of meaning once you stop and look.
The track into the mine
The approach follows an old track across open ground, once used daily by miners and carts moving between the workings and the valley below. Walking this route today helps set the pace, slowly revealing the mine buildings as the landscape opens out.
Entering the workings
Close to the buildings, carefully constructed stone arches mark the main underground access points. These adits were designed for long term use, allowing men, materials and water to pass safely in and out of the mine.
The story of Coldberry Lead Mine
Standing at Coldberry today, one of the first questions people often ask is how a place that feels so quiet and remote could once have supported a working mine at all. The answer lies in the landscape itself. The lead veins here were exposed by natural erosion and later explored through mining, with water playing a vital role in shaping how the site developed. What looks dramatic now is the result of geology, time and human effort working together.
Coldberry was never a vast industrial mine employing hundreds of men. Instead, it was worked on and off over many decades by small groups of miners, often responding to changes in lead prices or renewed interest in the veins underground. Official records show that employment was usually low, sometimes just a handful of men, with periods when the mine stood idle before being brought back into use. This stop start rhythm helps explain why the site feels compact on the surface, yet carefully organised and repeatedly adapted rather than abandoned outright.
Life for the miners here was practical and demanding. In this exposed upland setting, accommodation was provided close to the workings, allowing men to stay on site rather than travel daily from the valley. One of the small stone buildings later reused as a powder house began life as a lodging shop, complete with fireplaces, offering basic shelter in a harsh environment. Comfort was limited, but proximity to the mine mattered more than anything else.
Underground, narrow levels followed the lead veins into the hillside, opening out only where richer ore was found. These workings were dark, wet and physically hard, with water needing to be controlled and air kept moving through the mine by a combination of adits, shafts and natural ventilation. The work was skilled and dangerous, carried out by small teams who knew the rock and the risks it carried.
Blasting was an essential part of mining here, and the former powder house standing apart from the main buildings is a reminder of that danger. Its later use as an explosives store reflects how buildings at Coldberry were reused and repurposed as needs changed over time. Accidents did happen, and the surviving records of injuries and fatalities underline the very real hazards faced by those working both underground and on the surface.
What often surprises visitors is how much of Coldberry’s story is written into the ground itself. The trackways, water systems, spoil heaps and carefully built entrances show that this was not a simple hole in the hillside, but a site shaped by planning, persistence and long experience. Even with a small workforce, the mine gradually extended beneath the moor, forming a complex network of passages created over many years rather than all at once.
Coldberry’s long and uncertain working life finally came to an end in the mid 20th century, but its remains still speak clearly. This is a place that rewards curiosity and patience. The longer you spend here, the easier it becomes to imagine the sounds of water, the movement of ore and the quiet determination of the people who once worked this part of Teesdale.
The Powder House (Explosives Store)
This small but solid stone building sits slightly apart from the main mine complex, and for good reason. Originally built as a mine lodging shop where miners could shelter or stay overnight, it was later adapted to store gunpowder for blasting underground. Keeping explosives away from the main buildings reduced the risk of accidents spreading across the site. Its thick walls and isolated position still hint at how carefully dangerous materials had to be managed here in such an exposed upland location.
Inside the Powder House
One of the most surprising features inside the powder house is the presence of fireplaces. These date from the building’s earlier use as accommodation, before it became an explosives store. Once gunpowder was kept here the fireplaces would no longer have been used, but they remain as clear evidence of how buildings at Coldberry were reused and adapted rather than replaced as the mine’s needs changed.
Standing inside the room today, it’s easy to imagine the basic warmth and shelter it once provided in this exposed upland setting.
The Brick Mine Building
This brick-built structure sits on a lower, level platform below the main stone buildings, partly set into the hillside and positioned beside substantial concrete remains linked to later mine workings. Its construction reflects a more industrial phase of Coldberry’s life, likely dating from the late 19th or early 20th century when surface infrastructure became more specialised.
The tall door openings were practical rather than decorative, allowing carts, equipment and heavy materials to be moved in and out with ease.
How to Explore Coldberry Today
Coldberry is one of those places we return to again and again. There’s something about the space, the quiet, and the sense of history spread across the hillside that never quite feels the same twice. It’s not somewhere you rush. It’s a place to wander slowly, stop often, and let the landscape do the talking.
The mine lies on open access land, and visitors are welcome to explore the remains on foot. What you see today is fragile and exposed, shaped by time, weather and long-abandoned work, so exploring with care and respect really matters.
We always stay outside buildings and mine entrances. Underground workings and ruined structures can be unstable, even when they look solid, and it’s part of looking after places like this to admire them from a distance. Uneven ground, hidden shafts and steep edges are all part of the site, so taking your time and watching where you step is essential.
What we love most about Coldberry is how it invites you to slow down. Stand still for a moment, look at the details in the stone and the ground beneath your feet, and it becomes easier to imagine the lives and effort that once filled this quiet stretch of Teesdale. If everyone leaves the site exactly as they found it, Coldberry will remain a place of discovery for years to come.
An Entrance to the Underground Mine
This metal-lined opening marks one of Coldberry’s underground access points. Plainer than the main stone entrances, it reflects the practical nature of mining here, where entrances were adapted and reused as the workings developed. It’s a quiet reminder that much of Coldberry lies hidden beneath the moor.
Concrete Engine or Power Base
This substantial concrete structure marks the footprint of later surface machinery at Coldberry. Its thick walls were designed to support heavy equipment and absorb vibration, likely linked to haulage, winding or power systems used during the mine’s final working phases. The use of concrete reflects a shift from earlier stone buildings to more industrial construction.
The Water Balance Incline System
One of the most remarkable surviving features at Coldberry is the water balance incline. Using gravity and controlled water weight rather than engines, it allowed materials to be hauled uphill efficiently, showcasing the mine’s ingenious late-stage engineering.
Why Coldberry Feels Bigger Than It Looks
Coldberry often feels larger and more complex than people expect, especially when you start to piece together how much is spread across the hillside and hidden beneath the ground. Yet, for most of its working life, the mine was operated by surprisingly small numbers of men. Official records show that only a handful of miners were usually employed at any one time, with brief periods when numbers rose before dropping again.
This was partly because Coldberry was never worked continuously. Like many lead mines in Teesdale, it followed a stop–start pattern, opening and closing as prices changed or new sections of vein were explored. When conditions were right, small teams returned, extending levels, reusing buildings and adapting existing systems rather than starting again from scratch.
Much of Coldberry’s true scale lies underground. Narrow levels followed the lead veins deep into the hillside, branching and extending gradually over many years. These workings didn’t need large crews, but they did require patience, skill and an intimate understanding of the rock. What appears modest on the surface hides a far more extensive network beneath the moor.
Water also did much of the heavy work here. Carefully managed leats, reservoirs and systems such as the water balance reduced the need for engines or large numbers of workers. By harnessing gravity and flow, miners were able to move materials and control conditions underground with remarkable efficiency.
Seen this way, Coldberry’s scale is not the result of size or speed, but of time. Small groups of people, working carefully and repeatedly, shaped a landscape that still feels expansive today. It’s this quiet accumulation of effort that gives the site its depth and presence.
How Coldberry Lead Mine Worked
It’s easy to look across Coldberry today and wonder how anything productive ever came from such a quiet, windswept place. But when the mine was active, this hillside was full of movement. Every part of the landscape had a job to do, and every person who worked here played a role in a long, careful process that turned rock into usable lead.
Down in the mine
Most of the work happened underground, following narrow lead veins deep into the hillside. These were not wide tunnels you could walk through comfortably. They were tight, uneven passages, often wet, dark and cold, driven slowly by hand.
Miners worked in small teams, using picks, hammers and drills supplied by the mine owners rather than tools of their own. They were paid by results, not by the hour, so knowing where to cut, when to stop and how to avoid unnecessary waste mattered just as much as physical strength.
Once rock was loosened, it was loaded into tubs or sleds and moved along the levels, sometimes pushed by hand, sometimes guided by gravity. Water was always present underground, seeping through the rock, pooling on the floors and needing constant control just to keep the workings open.
Bringing the rock out
Getting material out of the mine was only the beginning. Much of what came to the surface was worthless stone mixed with ore, and it all had to be handled, sorted and moved.
Trackways, inclines and later systems like the water balance allowed a surprisingly small workforce to shift heavy loads around the site. These weren’t grand machines, but practical solutions that used gravity and water to do the hardest work. Coldberry didn’t rely on speed or power. It relied on patience and efficiency.
Sorting and washing the ore
Away from the mine entrances, the real separation began. On the dressing floors, rock was broken down and washed so the heavier lead-rich material could be collected. Water flowed through channels, buddles and settling tanks, carrying away lighter waste while the valuable ore slowly settled.
This was repetitive, physical work, carried out in all weathers. At many lead mines across Teesdale, women and younger workers were involved in sorting and washing ore, though the exact arrangements at Coldberry likely changed over time. What’s clear is that without this stage, the mine produced nothing of value at all.
Who ran the mine
Coldberry was never just a group of men working independently. For much of the 19th century it formed part of the wider operations of the London Lead Company, which supplied tools, managed leases and controlled output across large parts of the North Pennines.
Day-to-day decisions were handled locally, but administration, payments and planning were organised away from the exposed hillside, linking this quiet moorland site to a much wider industrial network.
A working landscape, not a single moment
What makes Coldberry feel so layered today is that it was never built all at once. The mine grew slowly. When work stopped, it was paused rather than abandoned. When it restarted, old buildings were reused, systems adapted and levels extended a little further underground.
Standing here now, you’re not looking at the remains of one busy year or one great rush. You’re walking through decades of careful, sometimes uncertain work, carried out by small groups of people who understood this landscape intimately and shaped it bit by bit.
A Place Worth Taking Your Time With
This wider view pulls everything together. The mine shop, outbuildings and later additions sit quietly within the folds of the hillside, surrounded by the same moorland that shaped how Coldberry was worked in the first place. From here, it becomes easier to understand why the mine developed the way it did, adapting to the land rather than trying to dominate it.
It’s a view that reminds us Coldberry was never just about extraction. It was about people finding ways to live and work in a demanding place, using what the landscape offered and leaving marks that still feel respectful rather than intrusive. From this viewpoint, the relationship between the mine and the surrounding landscape becomes clear.