Preserving the Noble Legacy
with Columbia
Published by SEVENSTORE for Columbia
Author: Millie Throp
Photography: Nathan Rutherford
Part of the topography amongst the trudged routes and patchworked greens of the UK’s national parks stand dry stone walls. Whereby these walls, built by hand from virgin materials, are slowly peppered with vegetation over the course of their lifespan, their existence stands border to biodiverse species and preserves the countryside’s peaceful ecosystem in tandem. A solution of sustainability; priding durability over a wall’s often 500-year guarantee, many yet breeze by these jagged monoliths during the pursuit of a Sunday stroll, unthinking as to how and when they were made, or by whom.
Chances are, one or more of these structures found in the verdant North of England are the product of Noble Stonework, a fifth-generation family masonry, constructing many notable housings in their West Yorkshire nook over the past two centuries. A timeline to be lauded, the Noble business began in the Victorian epoch, when in 1840, after common land was privatised by the marking of geological partitions, William Noble engendered a lasting tradition. Arising as an accessible venture, with wall reparation “part and parcel” of the farm trade throughout the 17th century says the elder’s fifth-removed great grandchild, forming a life out of walling has since trickled down; most recently to siblings, Bert and Lydia.
Like the spontaneity of natural resources fortuned by local quarries, the brother-sister unition formed as organically, toiling sun rise through fall, utilising processes like “battering” – simplified by Lydia as creating a dense structure by placing wider stones at the base. And just as different regions hold varying names for the final, bulkier stones – ‘toppings’ in Yorkshire, ‘cams’ in Cumbria – Bert and Lydia’s respective pathways into the craft varied as much. With Bert finding his hand after a stint at a London art school, Lydia’s own walling journey kindled at 16. “I’d seen my dad”, 80-year-old Bill, “travel the world doing it, so I thought I’d give it a go,” Bert explains. “We knew the basic principles through osmosis,” Lydia adds.
Presently, as the pair ponder “flat stone” vs. “gnarly slate” in their day-to-day, commencing their earned chapter in the family syndicate has been not merely a rite of passage, but an act of responsibility. Hence, despite the “good craic” of “working with your best mates every day”, pressure arises like the mass of hardy rock. Still, in ensuring longevity of their ancestral heritage, the pair retain closeness to a legacy built on commitment, skill, and quality time outdoors, offering, to them, an abundance as gratifying as the stacking of sedimentary material.
As the baton has passed, whilst humble techniques go unchanged, it reaches the 21st century weighted with the achievements of the Noble bloodline. But whereby accolades have previously earned recognition from the Dry-Stone Walling Association and across the globe alike, the Nobles’ now 32K Instagram following arguably trounces the siblings’ ‘Master Craftsmen’ accreditation. Immortalising the craft on social platforms; penning an archive with captions like “Shovel on tour”, the pair raise awareness not only to their charismatic excursions, but to the longstanding and charmingly human culture of their community.
Furthermore, where the ambassadors note their keenness to recruit the next generation in this space, it arises that, as was true for Bert, some things cannot be taught in school. “There’s no apprenticeship scheme. You’re always in the most beautiful places in the country. It’s getting the message out that this is a job you can do,” he expresses. With Lydia affirming “some people get PhDs and decide ‘no, I need to get outside’”. Ergo, on the reverse of gatekeeping is shared knowledge, encouraging those that are beckoned, to answer the call of the wild. “If we want walling to survive, we have to give this information away,” the brother concludes.
Evidently, the common joy in open-air activity remains timeless amidst the technical age, begging the question as to which enduring garments have enabled these hours of recreation – and hard graft – over years outside in the rugged. Unifying others enthralled by nature’s pull – those supposed to have formed a “thicker skin” – outdoor label, Columbia, has remained central to such uniforms of utility since its inception a century ago.
Founded on the same grounded principles as Noble Stonework, despite its beginning in the USA’s Pacific Northwest, working also with the nonmarine: namely cotton, nylon, and sherpa, the label’s brand director, Gert Boyle, similarly claimed the family venture from her father back in 1924. Adopting a “Tough Mother” approach to design in the face of robust equipment, her phrasing “It’s perfect. Now make it better” has defined the brand’s commitment to the longevity of pragmatic clothing ever since. Twinned with respect for the elements, chartering possibilities to hike, paddle and camp with sartorial shields and durable layering, the brand crafts with a persuasion of preservation and quality. In the Noble’s philosophy: “buy good, buy it once”.
Where commitment can outlast even the quincentenary standing of a dry-stone wall, Columbia’s spur to equip terrestrial enjoyment fulfils what has proved a universal need. The label, like the Noble ancestry, has harnessed and nurtured its heritage from the earth up. Thus, leaning into the vitality of the land, both parties are blessed with clarity. Which is why, for the Noble siblings, above a day in the field or a cup of tea on completion, carrying the legacy of their loved ones will always define the kinship’s one true north.