Carved and engraved lettering in the Church of St Michael and All Angels, Brodsworth.
Letterforms, Brodsworth Church
Category: History
High Street, Horbury
Chimney of Victoria Hair Salon, High Street, Horbury. They still have the brick fireplace with a stone lintel on the ground floor. Drawn over a latte and a toasted panettonne with honey at the Caffe Capri.
Red Dwarfs of Coxley Valley
Writing in The Wakefield Free Press, ‘The Rambler’ recalls a visit to Coxley Valley, Sunday 22 July, 1888.
I arrived at this much talked of “beautiful and charming resort” with senses refreshed by the newly-made hay and the various wild flowers that send forth their perfume from the woods up the slope. A turn of the road soon brought me in sight of “Belmont Shanty” as it is called, and as I read a bill on the boards my spirits began to revive. Here is a copy of it:
“This way to Belmont Gardens.”
Pleasure Boats
Following the directions thus pointed I failed to find any, but continuing down the western slope, I reached the bottom, when lo, I beheld a small lake, and on it several pleasure boats plying their living freight, as busy as if Sunday was of no moment to them.
The Photographer
In disgust at the sight, I went on my way until I came in close quarters with a photographic establishment, the proprietor of which, finding six days’ work not sufficient, continues to labour on the seventh.
‘Terrible Red Dwarfs’
I certainly expect when his plate of the concert of last Sunday becomes fully developed, I shall be immortalised in the same, with a book in hand and sad at heart.
Yes, sad at heart, pained in mind, and trembling for the awful doom that awaited those “terrible red dwarfs” seen in Coxley Valley last Sunday.
And were there really some in the Valley? Yes, and of all the dwarfs that ever did live these certainly did the most harm.
This was all the more wonderful because they were so ridiculously small, measuring only a few inches in length. Then I noticed that the caves in which they lived were dark, low arched, but strongly guarded. Then there were two ivory gates shut them in fast, and outside there were two other gates that were made to fasten quite closely.
There was no other in all the land that was so secured; and yet, in spite of all this, there was not another dwarf that it was so difficult to shut up.
Their conversation from beginning to end was discussing that all-important event to come off shortly between Horbury Bridge St. John’s and Thornhill cricket teams for the Challenge Cup.
The Band Stand
Finding no cessation of their obscene language, I left the dwarfs’ quarters and wended my way to the band stand, when, by the strains of sweet music played from the heart and soul by the bandsmen, my frame of mind came back again to its former self, and for the the rest of the afternoon I delighted myself in listening to the various selections and enjoying the beautiful scenery up the slope, and the warbling song of birds.
The band, which consisted of about 21 performers, played remarkably well, under the conductorship of Mr Wm. Atkinson, the bandmaster, andd the following programme was gone through :- The “Gloria,” from Mozart’s 12th Mass; chorus, “Maritana,” by Wallace; “Hallelujah Chorus”; rect. &c., “Comfort ye my people,” “And the glory of the Lord,” “The hours of beauty,” concluding with the National Anthem.
Wicken Tree Hall
During the performance a collection was made in aid of the band funds, and, it now being turned four o’clock and threatening water clouds hanging overhead, I drew myself together, went on to the old well-established Wigantree* Hall (kept by an old lady over 80 years of age, and her daughter), refreshed myself with a cup of good tea, and after becoming the recipient of a bit of grand-motherly advice from the old lady, I made my way back home again, and on the journey determined to let your readers know about the Sunday visit to Coxley Valley of the poor, old “Rambler.”
*Wicken Tree Hall, probably a transcription error from ‘Rambler’s’ handwritten article.
Extract form The Wakefield Free Press, Saturday 28 July, 1888
Link
Coxley Valley I’m reprinting my A6 booklet later this month
Charles Waterton at Home
I’ve been reformatting my Waterton’s Park booklet and this detail of three figures is the final illustration. Could this be a photograph of the camera-shy Waterton? Taken around 1860, it may show his Charles Waterton’s son Edmund on the left, one of Waterton’s sisters in law, (so a Miss Edmondstone) and Waterton himself.
But looking at it again, it does look more like Waterton’s friend Dr Hobson, who had a series of photographs taken of Walton Park at the time. There’s the cane, as in the Hobson photograph, the top hat and light-coloured trousers and there’s even a hint of those Victorian whiskers around his face.
Hobson himself says that this back view of Waterton was the nearest that he came to capturing Waterton on camera.
Waterton at Flamborough
In May 1834 Charles Waterton had himself lowered by rope down the cliffs at Flamborough by two local egg-gatherers:
‘The sea was roaring at the base of this stupendous wall of rocks; thousands and tens of thousands of wild fowl were in an instant on the wing: the kittiwakes and jackdaws rose in circling flight; while most of the guillemots, razorbills, and puffins, left the ledges of the rocks, in a straight and downward line, with a peculiarly quick motion of the pinions, till they plunged into the ocean.’
Charles Waterton, ‘Essays on Natural History’ (1835-1857)
My version of this scene was based on this Victorian engraving, artist uncredited except for the initials in the bottom left hand corner, which could be those of the engraver.
Sunday Visit to Coxley Valley
by the Rambler, The Free Press, Saturday, July 28, 1888
I came across this evocative essay while searching for articles about a mass trespass in Coxley Valley (complete with Brass Band: they did things in style in 1888!):
I am one of those quaint individuals – and there are a few in Horbury yet – who seldom ever leave my picturesque residence on a quiet Sabbath to visit that popular resort, Coxley Valley. Sunday last was an exception to the rule, for just as I and my wife had finished our frugal meal at dinner time, I filled up my pipe, bent upon having a quiet hour, when all on a sudden my intention in this respect was frustrated by the sound of a beating drum and a tremendous burst of music reaching my ears from twenty brass instruments.
For the moment I was thunderstruck, but, recovering my senses, I rushed out of the room into the roadway, only to find a lot more gazeful individuals running out of their humble cottages bare-headed.
Naturally I became as inquisitive as the majority of bystanders to know the cause of such a commotion on the sacred Sabbath. True, I was not long in gaining the required information, and what do you think it was? Why the Brighouse Temperance Brass Band had come out that afternoon to remind us that they were going to give a sacred musical concert in Coxley Valley, not for the benefit of our noble and valuable institution at Wakefield (the Clayton Hospital), but in aid of their band fund.
With this “gentle reminder,” a very large number dressed in their favourite Sunday “togs” wended their way to the favourite spot; many went, too, because it is their custom in the summer months so to do.
I, of course, thought of a letter and its contents I had in my possession, which came from the neighbourhood of Westgate [the ‘Free Press’ office in Wakefield], and conscious of the fact that I had a duty to perform, like the rest of the curious ones, I, too, resolved to spend the afternoon at Coxley Valley.
After a pleasant half hour’s walk, with eyes wide open, and ears not closed to several compliments paid that some Horbury “Ramblers” would be there, I arrived at this much talked of “beautiful and charming resort” with senses refreshed by the newly-made hay and the various wild flowers that send forth their perfume from the woods up the slope.
A turn of the road soon brought me in sight of “Belmont Shanty” as it is called, and as I read a bill on the boards my spirits began to revive. Here is a copy of it:
“This way to Belmont Gardens.”
To be continued . . .
Return to Waterton’s Park
I painted this watercolour of Walton Hall, the Water Gate and the Iron Bridge in July 2004 as an illustration for the cover of a menu for the restaurant in the Waterton Park Hotel.
I’m currently transferring my Waterton’s Park booklet from the original Microsoft Publisher version to a new Adobe InDesign version on my iMac.
The content will be the same but I’m taking the opportunity to make a few tweaks to the design. I’m sticking to one versatile typeface, Adobe Caslon Pro. It’s got a slightly more spiky and crisper look that Dolly Pro which was my previous favourite typeface for booklets. I like Caslon’s semi-bold italic for the headings in place of the Viners Hand that I used in the original.
I felt that the quiver of blowpipe arrows would sit better in the bottom righthand corner, where it’s right next to the appropriate paragraph, so Waterton capturing the cayman gets pride of place at the top of the page.
Around Old Ossett
I’d normally settle down to a session on InDesign on a rainy day but it’s a heatwave keeping us grounded today. In the transfer from my old defunct PC to my iMac, I’m taking advantage of it being easier in InDesign to take images across the gutter.
I’m pleased with how the vectorised place name cartoons have reproduced, slightly simplified into blocks of solid colour, like little woodcuts.
Link
Around Old Ossett at Willow Island Editions, £2.95, post free in the U.K.
William Baines Centenary Recital
Robin Walker tells me that we’ve now got a date for a recital to mark the 100th anniversary of the death of Yorkshire composer William Baines. After the recital I’ll be leading a walk to some of the Bainesian corners of Horbury.
Thanks to Horbury Civic Society and Horbury Methodist Church for their support.
Osla’s Camp
Ossett is a Viking place name, which might mean ‘Osla’s seat’ or ‘ridge camp’.
I’m transferring my 1998 booklet Around Old Ossett from the Microsoft Publisher version on my now defunct PC to Adobe InDesign on my iMac and taking the opportunity to spruce up my cartoons of local place names in Adobe Illustrator.
In my original booklets I wanted the blackest of blacks possible so I went for bit map format where each pixel is either black or white – never grey but this gives a slightly pixelated image. In Illustrator I can use the ‘Image Trace’ function set to ‘Black and White Logo’ to get a smoother effect.
