“I’ve been soa distracted, an’ handled soa bad,
Wol I thowt monny a time I sud ommost goa mad;
An’t’ doctor hes tell’d me ther wor noa other way
Nobbut going ta Blackpool or else Morecambe Bay;
An’ charged me ta mind, if I sat dahn to dine,
Ta lig inta t’ porter, an’t’ brandy, an’t’ wine.
“Soa nah, my accusers, what hev you ta say?
You can reckon that up in yer awn simple way;
But if ther’s a falsehood in what I hev sed nah,
I wish mi new hat wod turn into a cah;
So this is my answer, an’ this mi defence.”
“Well done!” sed owd Jennet, “he’s spokken some sense.”
Soa his speech nah he ended, but it touched ’em i’t’ wick,
Fer we all could see plainly it wor nowt but a trick;
And Jennet declared—tho’ she might be too rude—
If he’d come up to t’ dinner he sud hev some home-brewed,
Fer i’ spite o’ ther scandal sho wor praad on him yet,
An’ if he drank wine an’ porter who’d owt ta do wi’ ’t.
WITH THE LATE CHARLES BRADLAUGH, M.P.
It was on Shrove-Tuesday in the year 1862 (I think this is the number of the year; unfortunately I did not keep a diary, and I have nothing but my memory to go by) that I accompanied the late Mr Charles Bradlaugh, M.P., on a Secularist lecturing excursion to Sutton and Silsden. At Sutton Mr Bradlaugh was well received by the Radicals of the village, who invited him into a room, where they entertained him to some refreshment. Mr Bradlaugh “pitched” in front of the Bay Horse Inn, speaking from a chair which I had borrowed from the landlady of the inn. The subject of Mr Bradlaugh’s lecture was “More pork and less prayer: more bacon and fewer priests;” and I must confess that he dug his javelin with some vigour into the parsons. The audience was for the most part composed of old men and old women, who seemed delighted with the lecture, especially with the thrusts at the “religious gentlemen.” One of the old women exclaimed that they could do with some more bacon if they could get it, and fewer parsons. There were, said she, quite plenty of parsons, there being two of them in that district. At the close of the lecture I went round with my cap, and collected a few shillings. Mr Bradlaugh then went down to Silsden, and in the evening lectured on the same subject in the Oddfellows’ Hall, which was crowded at a penny admission fee. Leaving Silsden, we walked to Keighley—the railway not having yet been laid up the valley. On the way I had many interesting bits of conversation with the man who later in life was to create such a stir in the world—the man who was first errand boy, then coal dealer, Sunday school teacher, free-thought lecturer, soldier, solicitor’s clerk, and, finally, Member of Parliament. The conversation ran mostly upon soldiering, Mr Bradlaugh telling me that he had served for three years in the Dragoon Guards, chiefly in Ireland. General Garibaldi also occupied a good part of our talk. Mr Bradlaugh expressed great interest in the Italian patriot, and said he intended to join the foreign legion which was being formed in London to assist Garibaldi’s army and help him in his struggles. He strongly pressed me to take a trip to sunny Italy for the same object, and recited some verses which he had composed on Garibaldi. Mr Bradlaugh dwelt very little indeed upon religious matters, only saying that if he were “religious” he should be a Roman Catholic. Thus the time on our journey from Silsden to Keighley sped very pleasantly. It was almost midnight when we got into the town. While at Keighley, Mr Bradlaugh stayed with Mr John Rhodes, who conducted a small temperance hotel in the corner of the Market-place.
THE HEROIC WATCHMAN OF CALVERSYKE HILL
A good deal was made in the town out of an incident in which the watchman at Calversyke Mills played a “heroic” part. It was this way. William Binns, who lived at Calversyke Hill, just below the Reservoir Tavern, occupied one of the top storey rooms in his house as a work-room for wooden models, &c. One night he was cleaning up, and he burned the shavings and rubbish in the fire place. There happened to be a strong wind, and the sparks were wafted out of the chimney and over towards the mills. The watchman noticed the sparks flying about, and “in the execution of his duty,” informed the authorities of the matter, and Binns was hauled before the magistrates, and fined 5s and costs. I may say that in those days few persons summoned before the magistrates escaped a fine or its equivalent. In this case the action of the watchman was generally regarded as ridiculous. Now, Binns was an old friend of mine, we having been on the stage together, and at his earnest solicitation I wrote a satire with the title, “The ‘Heroic’ Watchman of Calversyke Hill,” from which I take the following verses:—
He swore by his maker the flames rose so high,
That within a few yards, sir, it reached to the sky;
And so greatly it lighted up mountains and dales,
He could see into Ireland, Scotland and Wales!
And so easily the commons did swallow his pill,
That they fined the poor artist at Calversyke Hill.
Now, there are some foolish people who are led to suppose
It was by some shavings this fire first arose.
“But yet,” says the ‘hero,’ “I greatly suspect
This fire was caused by the grossest neglect.
But I’m glad it’s put out, let it be as it will,”
Says the “heroic” watchman of Calversyke Hill.
So, many brave thanks to this “heroic” knave,
For thousands of lives no doubt he did save;
And but for this “hero” the disaster had spread
And smothered the nation while sleeping in bed;
But to save all His people it was the Lord’s will,
Through the “heroic” watchman of Calversyke Hill!
CHAPTER XVIIITHE GREAT TICKET-OF-LEAVE STRIKE
This great dispute in the iron trade of Keighley, about the year 1871, was known as the “ticket-of-leave” strike. The “Iron Lords” of Keighley amalgamated and practised a system of boycotting upon their workpeople. If a workman left one firm and took up with another, the latter would enquire of the man’s late employers what were the reasons of his leaving, &c. The reply took the form of a “Ticket,” sent under cover, of course, and practically decided the fate of the workman. Containing as this ticket usually did particulars as to the class to which the workman in question belonged; as to the wages he was worth, &c., the scale of ironworkers’ wages in the town got to an unbearably low ebb. The masters held the full sway for a while; then the workpeople broke out in open revolt against the pernicious system of their masters, and thus commenced the great “ticket-of-leave” strike. Early in the dispute I was applied to by the strike authorities to write and expose the unfair dealings of the “Iron Lords” of Keighley, and on the first day of the strike I composed several verses to go to the tune of the National Anthem. This was sung at the first great meeting of the strikers held in the Temperance Hall. The verses were as follow:—