The Tale of Gibson’s Cave
This is one of our Teesdale Tales, a story rooted in the landscape, passed down through the dale in different forms over the years.
Have you ever heard the tale of William Gibson, the sixteenth century outlaw who found shelter behind the waterfall in the rocky overhang now known as Gibson's Cave. The path begins as a gentle walk from Bowlees and leads you through the narrow valley, weaving past smaller waterfalls that tumble over rock and through deep pools. It is the kind of path where the sound of water follows you the whole way, growing louder as you approach Summerhill Force, a tall curtain of water flowing over a wide rocky outcrop. This is the place where folklore says Gibson hid, keeping himself out of sight while the world carried on below.
Stories passed down through Teesdale say he was wanted by the law for reasons that changed with every retelling. Some said he was caught poaching. Others whispered it was a feud or a mistake that had gone too far. Whatever the truth, the tale places him in the sixteenth century when the North Pennines were wilder and justice was often quick and unforgiving. A man in trouble could vanish into the hills and the hills would keep his secrets.
Rumours say the people of Bowlees and Middleton knew he was hiding somewhere along the beck. Some felt sorry for him and left dry clothes or a little food where he could find them. Others simply looked the other way and let the valley take care of him in its quiet way. Teesdale has always had a gentle streak and the people who lived here understood hardship better than most.
No one agreed on what Gibson was really like. Some described him as a tired young man on the run. Others imagined him as a quiet traveller who preferred the shelter of the woods to the noise of the towns. A few even believed he was kind at heart and had been driven into hiding through misfortune rather than malice.
In those days the valley around Bowlees was much rougher. The woodland on the left of Summerhill Force was thick and sheltering, full of deep shadows where a man could slip away unseen. To the right and above the waterfall the ground opened into a wide area of grass and scattered stone. Further upstream and away from the main path lies Flushmere Beck Waterfall which remains hidden even today. It is easy to picture Gibson moving along the whole stretch of the beck, finding quiet spots where he could rest without fear of being found.
The mine shaft near Bowlees belongs to a later century. The lead mining buildings and workings came long after the tale of Gibson had already settled into local memory. His story feels older and simpler, from a time before the landscape was changed by machinery and mining life. It belongs to the Teesdale of candlelight, thick woods and travellers moving through the hills with no record left behind.
As the story continues, the people living in Bowlees and Middleton quietly helped him survive. They noticed he wore the same thin clothes no matter the season. They saw the weary look in his eyes on cold mornings when he passed through the villages. Over time they began leaving small gifts for him. A shirt. A shawl. A handful of apples. A little bread under a stone. Teesdale kindness has always been the quiet kind.
Gibson accepted these gifts without ever asking for help. He simply took what he needed and walked back to the shelter behind the waterfall. Anyone who has stepped behind Summerhill Force will understand why he chose it. The curtain of water blocks out the outside world with a steady calming hum. The rock curves back just enough to keep you dry. The air feels cool and peaceful and the stone glows softly in lantern light. On quiet evenings you can almost imagine the flicker of a small flame and a man sitting close to the rock listening to the falls.
Some also believed he climbed onto the rocks above the waterfall. If he did, he would have had a clear view straight down the gorge at anyone passing along the path. Woodland covered the ground to his left while the open hillside stretched away to the right. For an outlaw who needed safety and solitude, it would have been the perfect place to stay hidden yet aware of everything around him.
One day Gibson simply moved on. Some said he slipped through the North Pennines and found refuge in another valley. Others believed he finally outran the law and returned home. When villagers looked behind the waterfall after he disappeared, they found only smooth stone and the cold air that still hangs there today.
But the valley kept his name.
Today, when you stand behind Summerhill Force and look out at the woodland, the open hillside and the smaller falls along the beck, the story feels possible. It feels like something that could only happen in a place as calm and gentle as Teesdale.
Some tales survive because they feel true in the landscape where they belong. Gibson's Cave is one of them.
Part of our Discover Teesdale collection – explore the dale’s walks, waterfalls, history and folklore.
Like many old stories, this tale mixes places, memories and imagination. Details may change depending on who you hear it from, but that is part of what keeps Teesdale’s folklore alive.
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