The last request which Mr Leach made to me was to write an epitaph to be engraved on the south side of the tombstone over his grave. I have penned the following lines:—
O! Passer-by, pray cast an eye
Upon this ponderous dome,
Where lieth one of nature’s sons
Inside the vaulted tomb.
For weel, I wot, it took a lot
To weigh him from his birth,
But nature thought she’d send him back
To join his Mother Earth
So now he’s quiet, both day and night,
No one can hear his speech;
And waiting to be reckoned up,—
Alas! poor Mr. Leach.
CHAPTER XXII
EXILED FROM KEIGHLEY
With an apology for digressing for the last two weeks from my own Recollections, I now hasten to continue my story. Going back to 1872, it was in that year I passed my second term of residence in Bradford. This time I was, to some extent, an exile—driven from home. It was brought about in this way. I was keeping a grocer’s shop in Westgate at the time, and one day, while I was away at my employment for Messrs Lund in Heber-street, a traveller for a Leeds firm of drysalters called at the shop, and forced upon my wife, who was in charge, several pounds’ worth of goods. Of course, when I got home I kicked up a “shine,” and distinctly said I should not accept the goods, which I sent back to Leeds. My returning the goods, however, did not mend my case, and I was summoned to Leeds to “show cause,” &c. But I treated the court with contempt by not attending, and an execution was issued against me forthwith. I have a keen remembrance of the visit which Mr John Scott, the bailiff at the Keighley County Court, paid to my house. Mr Scott said he had got Sheriff’s orders to sell me up or arrest me. I told him that I had a great fear of going to gaol, and asked him if he would go and ask his brother, Mr W. M. Scott, the high bailiff, to allow me until 9 o’clock on the following morning in which to make an effort to raise the money. The “bum” had scarcely got out of sight ere I was in consultation with John Parker, the landlord of the Bay Horse Inn. John rather pitied me. He agreed to lend me his horse, and I borrowed a van from Mr Joseph Wright, cabinet maker, determined to give my would-be captors the “leg bail.” Early next morning I was, so to speak, doing a moonlight “flit”—the van, containing my furniture, in charge of two men, was on the road to Bradford. Mrs Wright I left with friends at Keighley, and myself, accomplished the journey by rail. I spent some time at the top of Manchester road, Bradford, looking for a suitable house, and had almost resolved to give up the search in that quarter when I made the acquaintance of an old lady, who said she had a nice house—which vacant house isn’t a nice one?—to let at 9s 6d per week. This was a large figure, but, under the trying circumstances, I agreed to rent the house. An hour or so afterwards the van arrived, and having got my goods and chattels into the house, I dismissed the two men, enjoining them to strict secrecy as to my whereabouts. Having got the house into something like ship shape order, I set about devising a nom de plume and eventually fixed upon “James Wrightson,” which seemed to fit best, seeing that I was James Wright’s son.
IN BRADFORD—AS PATTERN DRESSER
Next day I managed to secure employment as pattern dresser with Messrs Ward and Bottomley, manufacturers. My stay there, however, was only short, owing to a disagreement with my foreman on a political subject. I then called upon Mr Wade, manufacturer, for whom I had worked at Morton. Mr F. S. Pearson, now of Keighley, was the manager of the warp sizing department in the fancy trade. Mr Pearson set me on, and I continued in Mr Wade’s employ for about twelve months, having a very profitable situation.