Tuesday 27th September 1811

Dear Diary,
Forgive my neglect.
I received some dreadful news whilst at dinner with my family on Sunday up at the Grange.
The meal was cooked by the new house-keeper Mrs Tull.
It was pleasant but I must confess it was not up to the standard of Mrs Crutchlow's roast dinners.
The conversation was for the most part inane and polite until I mentioned my intention, after dinner, of mounting The Knob.
"Enjoy it whilst you can, dear brother," smiled Cain from behind his glass of port.
"I do not understand," I replied, "what are you implying?"
"Well...," his smugness was infuriating, " I am afraid all public access is shortly to be prohibited..." He paused and sipped his port and then continued;
"... once the mining starts."
"The mining?" I spluttered.
"Indeed, the whole hill is a veritable gold mine." He was enjoying my surprise.
"They are to mine gold on The Knob?" I could not believe it.
Cain laughed.
"Not 'they' brother, 'I' and it is not gold, you buffoon! It is coal!"
Can there be anything worse than losing one's Knob?
Oh Diary, what is to be done?