Category: History

Last Train to Dewsbury

Chevet Branch Line

When did the last St Pancras* to Dewsbury train pass under this bridge?

It’s at the southern corner of Newmillerdam Country Park, as you follow the old railway out of the park, along the Chevet Branch Line nature reserve, heading south east towards Notton and Royston.

Find My Past, British Newspaper Archive

The first scheduled train on the line must have passed beneath it at about 6.30 a.m. on Thursday, 1 March, 1906.

Midland Railway, 1906
Find My Past, British Newspaper Archive

Despite the crowd and officials greeting the train at Dewsbury Station, I get the impression that the Midland Railway was keen to emphasise the goods side of things rather than passenger traffic, preparing to deal with ‘all descriptions of merchandise, live stock and mineral traffic’ at their new stations at Crigglestone and ‘Middlestown-for-Horbury’, further up the Calder Valley to the west of Newmillerdam.

According to the website Lost Railways of West Yorkshire, the line closed on Monday 18 December 1950.

*Oh! Mr Porter

I’d originally suggested that Euston would be the starting point of the line to Dewsbury via Newmillerdam so thank you to John Farline on the Wakefield Historical Appreciation Site on Facebook, who put me right:

The Midland Railway ran north from St. Pancras, not Euston. Your date for the line’s closure is likely to be the date when the passenger service was withdrawn. The line continued with goods services through to 1968 when Criggleston and Middlestown (goods only) stations were closed. I certainly remember seeing goods trains going onto and coming off the branch line in the 1950s.”

Robert Bell
My grandad Robert Bell who for just one week worked as a porter at Sheffield Midland Station.

I should have realised that the line must have started at St Pancras because that’s the route that goes via Sheffield Midland Station.

My grandad briefly worked as a porter, before going for a job with the then horse-drawn trams at the big tram company stables across the road. He’d worked with horses as a groom and he told me that, as a country lad, he found walking all day on the hard surfaces too demanding.

When we ran the Ossett Grammar School cross country in the 1960s (well, ran until out of sight of the school, then sauntered around exploring) I remember occasionally seeing coal trucks on the line from the bridge near Thornhill Hall farm.

Google Maps, Street view.

‘DEWSBURY’ is one of the stations with its name carved into one of the cornerstones of this entrance lodge at Euston Station, now The Euston Tap, a ‘dedicated cider bar with cask ales and draught beers, in a Victorian gatehouse with beer garden.’

Euston was the headquarters of the London and North Western Railway, so their route to Dewsbury would be via Birmingham, changing at Crewe for Dewsbury, a route celebrated in the Marie Lloyd music hall song Oh! Mr Porter:

Oh! Mr Porter, what shall I do?
I want to go to Birmingham
And they’ve taken me on to Crewe,
Take me back to London quickly as you can.
Oh Mr Porter, what a silly girl I am!”

George and Thomas Le Brunn, 1892

Link

Lost Railways of West Yorkshire, Royston to Dewsbury Savile Town Goods, 1906 – 1950, Midland Railway

King Henry VII Chapel

fan vault
The fan vault

In June 1977 the Silver Jubilee Days on the Queen’s Official Birthday marked the 25th anniversary of the accession of Queen Elizabeth II on 6 February 1952. Architect and designer Margaret Casson organised a small exhibit ‘The Graven Image’ at the Victoria and Albert Museum and invited me to take part.

Henry VII Chapel
Henry VII

In the April of that year I headed to London and decided to give myself a bit of a challenge and I drew the interior of the Chapel of Henry VII in Westminster Abbey.

Royal standard
Royal standard

I found a corner stall and settled down for a long session drawing with dip pen and Pelikan ink (the original drawing is in Pelikan Special Brown).

Chapel
Henry VII Chapel

I hadn’t realised the significance of the rather elaborate end-of-the-row stall that I’d set myself up in.

Guides would come in and point to the ceiling, and their group would look up, suitably impressed; then the tomb of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York (the couple who effectively brought the Middle Ages to a close by uniting the Houses of York and Lancaster) and finally, to bring things up to date, the guide would point to Prince Charles’ seat in the corner . . . the stall where I was sitting, scribbling away. I got some curious looks.

I’m struggling to remember the other items in the ‘Graven Image’ show which was in a corner of the entrance hall to the V&A but as I brought in my framed sketchbook spread, a stone carver staggered in with a large block with a beautifully carved inscription, a suitably graven image.

In Search of Uncle Joe

Joseph Truelove 1860
British Newspaper archive, Find My Past

On the front page of the Sheffield Daily Telegraph, Monday 26 November 1860, between a notice about a Full Dress Assembly at the Bath Saloon and an invitation from the new landlord of the Newcastle Arms comes this notice from my great, great, great uncle Joseph Truelove that from that date forward he’s not going to be responsible for his wife Mary’s debts.

Joseph had a colourful life. He had married Mary Tinker twelve years earlier on Christmas Eve 1848 at Sheffield Parish Church. By 1860 they were both in their early thirties and evidently the marriage wasn’t going smoothly. Unfortunately things were going to get worse.

I don’t have a photograph of Joseph and Mary but here’s his elder brother, William, born 1825, my great, great grandfather.

1895 Joseph’s brother William, born 1825, (centre), with my great grandad George Swift on his left and his wife, my great grandma, William’s daughter Sarah Ann standing behind him. On William’s right Joseph’s nephew, another Joseph Truelove with his wife Mary Jane standing behind him.

A ‘Curious Charge of Assault’

By 1868 Joseph was away in America and Mary was, according to the Sheffield Daily Telegraph, living with George Baxter, a beerhouse keeper in Attercliffe. Bringing a charge of assault against him, Mary claimed that Baxter had assaulted her and had threatened to shoot her. A servant girl from the beerhouse and a woman who Mary called as a witness denied that George had ever used violence towards Mary.

As Mary had called the unnamed woman as a witness, presumably to back up her claims, I can’t help wondering if someone had persuaded the woman to change her story.

Attempted Murder

By Wednesday 26 October 1870 we know that Mary was back with Joseph in Allen Street near the centre of Sheffield. They were both ‘the worse for liquor’ and after a quarrel she attempted to murder him, stabbing him in the neck with a pair of decorator’s scissors. Pleading guilty, she was sentenced to penal servitude for life.

A condition of her release on 19 January 1881 was that she should remain in Lincolnshire but she immediately started to make her way back to Sheffield.

George had remarried, again to a woman called Mary. I’d love to know what happened next.

Joseph died in 1883, the same year that his new wife Mary gave birth to a daughter.

I’m hoping that some day I might come across a photograph of Joseph’s first wife, Mary Tinker, amongst her prison records.

Falconry at Brodsworth

Falconry display

Today Brodsworth Hall was the appropriate setting for a Victorian falconry (and hawking, there is a difference) display by Raphael Historic Falconry. Also featuring the equally impressive Cosmic the black Labrador, currently being trained as a falconry dog (falcons and hawks don’t have a sense of smell).

African eagle owl

Link

Raphael Historic Falconry

High Street, Horbury

Chimney

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

The Rambler

Writing in The Wakefield Free Press, ‘The Rambler’ recalls a visit to Coxley Valley, Sunday 22 July, 1888.

Strolling in Coxley Valley
Haymaking, Coxley Valley

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

Proposed scheme; there’s no evidence that there was ever a steam launch operating on Coxley Dam.

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

The Charlesworth family photographed in Coxley Valley
Photographer's stamp

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’

visitors to Coxley Valley
Danger! Red Dwarfs at work in Coxley Valley!
The Rambler, artist's impression
‘Sad at heart’ (artist’s impression: I haven’t yet discovered the true identity of ‘The Rambler’).

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.

Terrible Red Dwarf
‘Rambler’ is quoting from a satirical book, ‘The Terrible Red Dwarf’ by M. Guy Pearce, popular with the Temperance Movement.

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.

Projected scheme by George F. T. Charlesworth for Coxley Valley pleasure gardens. Only the right-hand bay of the building below Sun Wood was ever constructed.

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

Wicken Tree Hall and the ‘Rose Garden Pleasure Grounds’, Coxley Valley, from the Ordnance Survey 6 inch map 1888-1913, National Library of Scotland.

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

Figures on the island at Walton Hall

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.

Dr Hobson and friend at the farm, Walton Hall, c.1860.

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 and Waterton
Hobson keeping Waterton talking while his photographer takes a photograph

Hobson himself says that this back view of Waterton was the nearest that he came to capturing Waterton on camera.

Waterton at Flamborough

My drawing of Waterton at Bempton for an article I wrote for ‘Yorkshire Life’ in 1976.

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)
Waterton at Flamborough
Frontispiece of ‘Remarkable Men’, published by the Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, undated.

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.

A day out in Coxley Valley

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.

Relaxing at Coxley Dam

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 . . .