Tales of the Urban Explorer: Griffe Mill

On my never-ending quest to photograph the most dilapidated buildings in the North-West of England, I came across this article about a mill that was closed down in 1928.

Now that’s 90 years ago, and still within the time period when Mills were the backbone of the working class workplace, so why the closure?


The author explains that due to its remote location it may not have been feasible to keep it running.

Stanbury is a very rural village close to the more famous town of Howarth where the Bronte sisters wrote their novels such as Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, but I would question why build a Mill in this location when there is no accessibility for your goods?

@bingbabe was attending a 1940’s street party that weekend in Haworth and so I bookmarked ‘Griffe Mill’ for a solo visit.


Surely the place was unguarded and ruinous? The research I gathered suggested so and I didn’t anticipate burly security guards or any such problems.

This mill is alleged to be haunted by a young girl named Susannah Arabella Shackleton. The young girl perished near the mill either in the late 1890s or early 1900s.

This old photograph was taken from the other side of the mill, with the chimney stack on the other side. The hill on the far side with the trees was the direction that I approached from.

The FOUR long buildings on the nearside are now completely gone. This could have been housing for the unfortunate workers of that time.



In retrospect, the easiest way to gain access to Griffe Mill is from The Old Silent Inn in Stanbury. There is a public footpath sign that ‘appears’ to head toward the ruin. Did I go this way? Of course not!


I parked close to the School in Stanbury and could not find a way to my target, though I could see it quite clearly in the valley below.

Not to be thwarted I vaulted over a gate and strode purposefully through a farmers field down the hill only to face a row of barbed wire at the bottom.

Now you get kind of get used to obstacles after doing many explores, and this was not going to stop me. Anyone watching may have thought me quite mad and the local farmer luckily did not spot me traipsing through his fields.



Bypassing the wire, some sloppy sodden ground and a horde of particularly ferocious sheep brought me to the Mill’s chimney or what was left of it.



Griffe Mill reminded me of some lost architecture in the deepest Amazon. It was so overgrown with foliage I was having a hard time spotting anything.




There was not a soul about and I didn’t get any bad vibes. Is this an indication of my increasing tolerance to fear of exploring old places?



Graffiti was in short supply though I did notice a small amount. The Mill looked to have had THREE floors at one point but age and decay had taken any opportunities away to explore the upper floors.


They simply did not exist and were gone, probably long ago.



I did see some evidence of machinery from days gone by. A couple of pieces were lying around in the inner grounds.






This wooden door was still attached, after 90 years!


To photograph this long pipe I had to get myself in a position which was a little awkward. There were many stinging nettles waiting for one false move.



After walking around the outer circumference of Griffe Mill, I noticed a public footpath on the eastern edges. Likely this could lead to The Old Silent Inn at a guess.



To call Griffe Mill, Urbex would probably be stretching it all little.

Yes, there are some remnants of the past hanging from the inner walls and strewn about the inner courtyard but I was struggling to find any character and the place was rather devoid of atmosphere despite the alleged spirit that haunts it.


However, I’m thankful to have had the opportunity to visit a place that looks lost in time yet is quite close to a village and visible from the roadside.

Having parked my vehicle close to the school, I didn’t really want to take the long route back via the Inn and so semi-retracted my steps back up the farmer’s field, this time avoiding the barbed wire.


Like before, I was not challenged by any angry farmers but this time the route was a steep ascent resulting in a rather sweaty and hot @slobberchops who emerged on to the roadside.



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