Kitabı oku: «Th' History o' Haworth Railway»
On hearing this, the Haworth foalk
Began to think it wor no joak,
An’ wisht’ at greedy kaa ma’ choak,
’At swallowed th’ plan o’th railway.
PREFACE TO THE TENTH EDITION
The Author of this well-known, amusing, and celebrated pamphlet was born on the 22nd March, 1836, at a place midway between Keighley and Haworth, called Hoylus End in a simple cottage near the Whins Delf, at the terminus of the quaint old hamlet known as Hermit Hole, in the Parish of Bingley. He began early in life to write songs and uncouth rhymes, and even as a boy He wrote satires so caustic that they are remembered even to the present day.
However, the Haworth Railway cropped up, and this found him ample food for his pen; and as this is the Tenth Edition of the work it is clear that it is still in popular favour.
CHAPTER I
Before I commence mi short history o’ Haworth Railway, it might be as weel to say a word or two abaat Haworth itseln. It’s a city at’s little nawn, if onny, in th’ history o’ Ingland, tho thare’s no daat but it’s as oud as Methuslam, if net ouder, yet wi’ being built so far aat o’ th’ latitude o’ civilised nashuns, nobody’s scarcely nawn owt abaat it wal lately. Th’ faanders of it is sed to be people fra th’ Eastern countries, for they tuk fearful after em in Haworth i’th line o’soothsayers, magishuns, an’ istralegers; but whether they cum fra th’ East or th’ West, thay luk oud fasun’d enuff. Nah th’ city is situated in a vary romantic part o’ Yorkshur, an’ within two or three miles o’th boundary mark for th’ next county. Sum foak sez it wur th’ last place ’at wur made, but it’s a mistak, for it looks oud fashun’d enuff to be th’ first ’at wur made. Gurt travellers sez it resembles th’ cities o’ Rome an’ Edinburgh, for thare’s a deal a up-hills afore yo can get tut top on’t; but i’ landing yo’d be struck wi wonder an’ amazement – wat wi th’ tall biggens, monnements, dooms, hampitheaters, and so on, for instance Church, or rather th’ Cathedrall, is a famous biggen, an’ stands majestekely o’th top o’ th’ hill. It hez been sed at it wur Olever Cramwell that wur struck wi’ th’ appearance o’th’ Church an th’ city, alltagether, wal he a mack a consented to have it th’ hed-quarters for th’ army an’ navy.
Th’ faander o’th’ Church is sed to be one Wang be Wang, one o’th’ Empros o’ China as com ower in a balloon an browt wi’ him all his relations but his grandmuther. Th’ natives at that toime wur a mack a wild; but i’ mixing up wi’ th’ balloonites thay soin becum civilized and bigd th’ Church at’s studden fra that toime to nah, wi’th’ exepshun o’ one end, destroyed at sum toime, sum sez it wur be war. Some sez West End an th’ Saath End wur destroyed, but its a mack a settled on by th’ wiseuns it wur witchcraft; but be it as it may, Haworth an th’ foak a’ together is as toff as paps, an hez stud aat weel, an no daht but it wod a flerished before Lundun, Parris, or Jerusalem, for centries back, if they hed a Railway, but after nearly all Grate Britten an’ France had been furnished wi’ a railway, th’ people i’ Haworth began to feel uneazy an’ felt inclined no longer to wauk several miles to get to a stashun if they wur baan off like. An’ besides, they thout it were high time to begin an’ mak sum progress i’ th’ world, like their naburs i’ th’ valley. So they ajetated fer a line daan th’ valley as far as Keighla, an’ after abaat a hundred meettings they gat an Akt past for it i’ Parliament. So at last a Cummittee wur formed, an’ they met one neet o’ purpose ta decide wen it wod be th’ moast convenient for ’em ta dig th’ first sod ta commemorate an’ start th’ gurt event. An’ a bonny rumpus thur wur, yo’ mind, for yo’ ma’ think ha it wur conducted when thay wur threapin’ wi’ one another like a lot a oud wimen at a parish pump, wen it sud be. One sed it mud tak place at rush-buren, another sed next muck-spreadin’ toime, a third sed it mud be dug et gert wind day it memmery o’ oud Jack K- Well, noan et proposishuns wud do fur the lot, and there wur such opposishun wal it omust hung on a thre’ad whether th’ railway went on or net, wal at last an oud farmer, one o’th’ committee men, wi’ a voice as hoarse as a farm yard dog, bawls aat, “I propoase Pancake Tuesday.” So after a little more noise it wur propoased an’ seconded et Grand Trunk Railway between th’ respective taans of Keighla an’ Haworth sud be commemorated wi’ diggin’ th’ furst sod ’o Pancake Tuesday i’th’ year o’ our Lord 1864; an’ bi th’ show o’ hands i’th’ usual way it wur carried bi one, and that wur Ginger Jabus, an’ th’ tother cud a liked to a bowt him ower, but Jabus wornt to be bowt that time, for he hed his heart an’ sowl i’th’ muvment, an he went abaat singing —
Come all ye lads o’ high renown
’At wishes well your native town,
Rowl up an’ put your money down
And let us hev a Railway.
Wi’ Keighla foak we are behind,
An’s hed to wauk agin wur mind;
But soin th’ crookt-legg’d ens thay will find
We’ll keep em wi’ a Railway.
Well, hasumever, public notice wur made nawn, bi th’ bellman crying it all ower th’ tawn, which he did to such a pitch wal he’d summat to do to keep his hat fra flying off, but he managed to do it at last to a nicety, for th’ news spread like sparks aat of a bakehouse chimla; an’ wen th’ day come they flockt in fra all parts, sum o’th crookt-legg’d ens fra Keighla com, Lockertown and th’ Owertown foak com, and oud bachelors fra Stanbury and all parts at continent o’ Haworth; foak craaded in on all sides, even th’ oud men an’ wimen fra Wicken Crag an’ th’ Flappeters, an’ strappin’ foak they are yo mind, sum as fat as pigs, wi’ heeads as red as carrits, an’ nimble as a india-rubber bouncer taw; an’ wat wur th’ best on’t it happened to be a fine day; or if it hed been made accordin’ to orders it cudent a been finer. Shops wur all closed, an’ everybody, oud an’ young hed a haliday aat o’th’ doors, for they were all flade o’ missin’ th’ Grand Proceshun, which formed itseln at th’ top o’ Wuthren, when it wur messured it turned aat to be two miles six inches long – it moved as follows: —
ORDER O’TH’ PROCESHUN
Th’ Spring heead Band wi’ thair hat bruads turned up so as they mud se thair way clear,
Lord o’th’ Manor i’ full uniform a fut back bearin’ th’ Coat of Arms for Haworth a gert wild cratur wi’ two tails on, one o’ th’ authur end
Th’ Members o’th’ Corporashun one abreast, singin’ “a nuttin’ we will go, brave boys.”
Big Drums an’ Triangles
A Mahogany Wheelbarro’ an’ a silver spade on a cart trail’d bi six donkeys, an’ garded bi ten lazy policemen all sober
A pair o’ crakt bag-pipes
Th’ Contractor in a sedan carried bi two waggoners i’ white smocks
All th’ young maidens fra fowerteen to thirty-nine, six abreast drest i’ sky blue, an’ singin’ throo combs
Twenty oud wimen nittin’ stockings
Twenty navvies i’ thair shirt sleeves wheelin’ barrows wi work tools in
Taan skavengers wi’ shouldered besums decorated wi’ ribbons
Bellman an’ Pinder arm i’arm drest i’ full uniform, an’ th’ latter na an then bawlin’ aat waats baan to tak place
All scholars in th’ female line lakin’ at duck under water kit, an’ th’ males lakin’ a frog-loup, an jumpin’ o’ one another’s backs
Taan chimla sweeps mounted o’ donkeys wi’ thair face white
All th’ furiners fra th’ continent o’ Haworth, and crookt legg’d en fra Keighla followed up
Bulk o’th’ inhabitants waukin’ one abreast, wi’ hats off an’ singin’ as follows: —
Gather fra Stanbury lads wi’ yor carrot heds,
CHAPTER II
Double, double, toil an’ trouble.
Nah then lads for wark, nowt but wark’ll do, an’ theas ’at can’t wark mun plan. This wur th’ cry all up an daan Haworth next morning, an’ for weeks all wor vary bizzy. One man made a wheelbarra it’h chamber, but it wor soa big wal it cudn’t be gotten aat withaat takkin th’ haase side daan. Anuther invented a koulin’ machine to koul th’ muck up both sides to save wheelbarras an’ work toils for th’ navvies. Some started a practicin’ for porters a th’ railway, wi’ oppenin’ an’ shuttin’ th’ oven doors wi’ a bang, shaatin’ aat a’th’ same time ‘All aat for Haworth.’ One man wur trying th’ dodge on, an’ th’ cat wur i’th’ ovan, an’ poor thing expectin’ ’at it wur i’th’ wrong place jumpt aat just at th’ time ’at he wur wistling to start, an’ wur catcht bi th’ tail an’ th’ poor thing lost it, for it wur cut off as clean as a wistle. A crookt legg’d pedl’r come fra Keighla one day wi’ winter edges, an’ thay tuk him for a sapper an’ miner ’at hed com to mezhur for th’ railway, an’ mind yo they did mak sammat on him, thay thout ’at th’ winter edges wur th’ apparatus to mezhur by. But hasumever th’ reightens cum at after, an’ a sore disaster thay hed yo mind, for thay laid plan o’th’ railway daan at green swarth an’ a oud kaa belangin’ to Blue Beard swallow’d th’ job, thay tried to save ’em but all i’ vain; a sor do wur this for both folk an’ th’ railway, for it put em a year or two back an’ foak wur ragin’ mad abaat th’ kaa, an’ if it hedn’t a been a wizen’d oud thing thay’d a swallow’d it alive – th’ nasty, greedy oud kaa.
Thay hed a meeting th’ tother neet,
Fair o’th’ top o’ wuthering street,
To see what things thay’d got complete,
Concerning Haworth railway.
Wen Penny Wabbac tuk the chair,
He lukt to be i’ grate despair,
He sez, good foak, are yo’ aware,
Wat’s happened to the railway?
Wi’ persperashun on his bra,
He sez, good foaks, I’ll tell yo’ nah;
Oud Blue Beard’s nasty wizen’d kaa
Hez swallow’d plan o’th’ railway.
Wi’ theas remarks poor Wabbac sat,
Wen Jonny Broth doft off his hat,
His een they blazed like some wild cat
Wi’ vengence for the railway.
He sed, mi blud begins to boil,
To think ’at we sud work and toil,
And even th’ cattle cannot thoyle
To let us hev a railway.
On hearing this the Haworth foak
Began to think it wur no joak,
An wisht ’at greedy kaa ma choak
’At swallow’d plan o’ th’ railway.
But hasumiver thay gat ower this, an’ wur net long at after afore they hed more disasters, such as tunnils shutterin’, and chapels sinkin’, and law suits, an’ so an, wal Haworthers thout bet hart at both th’ foak an’ th’ grund wur soft daan at Keighla, an’ thretten’d to coam sum o’th’ crookt legg’d ens thair heads if they insinuated; an’ th’ Volunteers thretten’d to tak thair part if thair wur owt to do; an’ farther ner that, they vowed ’at they wur ready to go to war wi’ onny nashun that sud insult awther them or th’ railway under the present difficulties.
For sighs an’ tears an’ doubts an’ fears
Prevails with greatest folly,
For th’ sinagog hez cockt its clog,
An’ th’ parson’s melancholy.
Tunnils sink an’ navvies drink,
An’ chapels are upsetting;
For railway shares nobody cares,
An’ iverybody’s fretting.
The iron horse they curse of course,
An’ fane wud it abondon,
An’ loyer’ fees thair pockets ease,
A thousand pounds i’ Londen.
Misfortunes speed as rank as weed,
An’ puts on such a damper,
Wal th’ foaks declare i’ great despair,
It’s up wi’ th’ iron tramper.
The Volunteers prick up thair ears,
An’ mack a famos rattle;
They want to run to Wimbledon,
Or onny field o’ battle.
Thair black cravats an’ toppen’d hats
Are causin’ grate attraction;
’Gainst Bonepart they want to start,
I’ regular fightin’ action.
The raw recuits hev got thair suits,
Thay brag to one another,
To th’ first campaign thay’l tak th’ train
Without the slightest bother.
But hasumiver, it’s gotten to th’ last stage na, an’ foak is very impashent for it to come up, an’ thay are preparin’ to give it a grand recepshun; one oud woman hes a peggy tub full o’ meal an’ saar swillings for th’ ingen, an’ thay are preparin for th’ passengers fra Keighla.
Thayr standin’ i’ groups an’ livin’ i’ hopes,
An’ more disappointments thay dread,
Wi’ thayr ears touchin’ th’ graand, thay’ve harkened for th’ saand,
Wal thay’ve omust gone wrong i’ thair head.
Sez Dick o’ Grate Beckers, just keep up yor peckers,
Yo’ hevn’t much longer to wait,
For blue milk an’ porridge, yo’ll get better forridge,
Wen th’ railway gets fairly agait.
For it’s labour i’ vain to harken for th’ train
Wen all’s goin’ on varry steady;
So pray yo be calm, its takkin no harm,
Thay’ll bring it as soin as it’s ready.
For th’ rails are all laid, an’ thair’s nowt to be made,
Nobbut th’ navvies to clear off all th’ muck;
Then all ’ll be going, for the Cowinhead mooin
Is baan to be browt on a truck.
So Sham o’ Blue Bills, wi’ thi pints and thi gills,
It’s baan to be better for thee,
To Keighla an’ back tha ma go in a crack,
Wen tha’s baan on a bit of a spree.
An’ John o’ Pot Anns, tha mun alter thi plans,
For tha niver can get ’em i’ force;
For I’m happy to tell at astead o’th’ canal
They’re baan to try th’ big iron horse.
Thare’s oud Jim o’ Tyas is baan to be wise,
An’ th’ foak sez at he’s takkin a hig;
He’ll see it first tried afore he will ride,
He’s daan abaat th’ paper mill brig.
He sez he’ll be sure, it dropt in before,
An’ it might do again for a pinch;
For he sez they’ll be kapt if some on ems trapt,
So he’s blest if he’ll trust it an inch.
Thare’s oud Mally Brook hez been daan to look,
An’ shoo’s sore disappointed thay say;
Shoo’s omost gone crakt for shoo says it weant act,
For they nobbut can run it one way.
Shoo sez at high class at’s laid daan all th’ brass,
Just na they’re beginning to craw;
To mak up for th’ trouble they’re baan to charge double,
For bad spekulashun it law.
So to settle em daan, Sir Christopher Braan
Hez tould ’em it wur his intent,
If thay’d nobbut be quiet till things wur all reight,
He’d give them a trip to Chow Bent.
Yes, and besides a trip to Chow Bent, they gat several more trips promised bi th’ diffrent distingwisht citizens o’ Haworth. One man promised to give ’em a trip to Bullock’s Smithy, anuther to Tinsley Bongs, wal thay wur gettin’ quite up o’ thersels an’ th’ railway. Or else thay’d been for many a year an’ cudn’t sleep a wink at neet for dreamin’ abaat th’ railway ingens, boilers, an’ so on, an’ mony a time thay’ve waken’d i’ ther sleep shakkin’ th’ bed post, thinkin’ thay wur settin’ th’ ingen on or stoppin’ it. But thay’d gotten reight an’ thout thay wur baan to hev no more trouble; but alas, it wur a mistak, for th’ mornin’ of th’ 14th o’ November an oud skyologer went aat a weather-gazin’ an’ planet-rulin, an’ woful news an’ bad omens he browt back wi him, for he sed at th’
Stars wur shoiting in an’ aat,
An’ gravel ratches wur abaat,
An’ th’ folk, he sed thay little knew
Wat mischief it began to brew.
An’ news he spread abaat the taan
Wat lots o’ rain wud tumble daan
An’ like his anshent sires he spoke
The shockin news withaat a joak.
For soin the rain i’ torrent fell,
And o what awful news to tell,
It lookt as claads wur baan to shutter,
For every dyke, an’ ditch, an’ gutter,
A regeler deluge did resemble.
Which made the Haworth folk to tremble.
Sum tried to stop its course wi’ stones,
An’ sum dropt on their marrow bones,
An’ hoped that if the world wur draaned,
The railway wud be saafe an’ saand.
But prayers like theas hed no avail,
For th’ waters deluged all the vale;
An’ th’ latest news ’at I heerd
Th’ railway’s nearly disappear’d;
But if it’s fun withaat a flaw,
Wha, folks, I’m like to let you know.
CHAPTER III
“Work, Boys, and be Contented.”
Ha, it’s all varry weel for th’ poit to sing that, but if he hed a railway at stake he wud happen alter his tune, an’ espeshully if he wur an eye witness nah, for th’ storm wur ragin’ at th’ heyest, an’ th’ folks wur waiting wi’ pashent expectashun to know whether it wur baan to be at an end or nut, for th’ flooid wur cumin’ daan thicker an faster, an’ thare look’d to be monny hundred mile o’ watter in th’ valley. Hawsumever thay muster’d all th’ energy thay could, for thay wur determined to know th’ worst, so thay went to see if thay could find th’ oud weather-gazer, at hed proffesied th’ flooid; an’ after a good deal o’ runnin’ abaat, thay fan him peepin’ throo summat at shap of a tunnil, sum sed he wur lookin’ at mooin, others sed he wur lookin’ into futurity, hawsumever thay axt him to cum daan an’ look at th’ railway, an’ tell ’em whether th’ flooid wur baan to tak it away or not, but th’ saucy oud haand refused at first, for he sed at he wur flaid at sum on em wodn’t be able to stand th’ shock if he tell’d em th’ warst, so the oud lad sed,
If my advice yo want, poor things,
An’ cannot do withaat it,
Go arm yorseln to th’ teeth, he sed,
An’ doant be long abaat it;
Both rakes an’ powls an’ props an’ ropes
Yo cannot get ta sooin,
An’ take the Cowinheaders’ plan
When thay discovered th’ mooin.
Doant gape abaat, but when arm’d
Tak each a different rowt,
An’ let yor cry be ivery man,
Th’ poor railway’s up the spout.
It wurnt long afore thay gat arm’d – sum wi’ clothes props, muk forks, ropes an’ so on, an’ thare wur sum competition yo mind, for thay wur all tryin wich cud mak best movement so as thay cud immortalise thair names it th’ history of Haworth, for thare wur wun Joe Hobb, a handloom weaver, browt his slay boards, and as he wur goin’ daan th’ hill he did mak sum manœvures yo mind, for talk abaat fugal men i’ th’ army wen thay throw thair guns up into th’ air an’ catches em agean, thay wur nowt ta Joe, for he span his slay boards up an’ daan just like a shuttlecock. But wal this wur goin’ on th’ storm began to abate, and th’ water seemed to get less, but still thay kept at it. Wal at last a chap at thay called Dave Twirler shaated aat at he saw summat, and thay look’t way at he pointed, and thare behold it wur won o’th’ ribs o’th’ railway stickin’ up, here a dead silence tuk place which lasted for abaat three haars, for nobody durst oppen thair maath, flaid at th’ wind wud mak th’ current stronger, an’ sum o’th’ wimmen held thair tungs to that pain and misery wal thair stockings fell down ower thair clog tops; but hasumever th’ silence wur brokken by a Haworth Parish chap ’at they call Bob Gimlet, he happen’d to be thare an’ he said, na lads, look daan th’ valley, for I think I see th’ skeleton at ony rate, an’ Bob wur reight, for it wur as plain to be seen as an elephant in a shop winder.
An’ this wur a fact, it wur th’ railway thay saw,
An’ at th’ first o’th’ spectre thay all stood in awe,
For it wur smashed all i’ pieces ashamed to be seen
As tho it hed passed throo a sausidge masheen,
Wi’ horror sum fainted while others took fits,
An’ theas ’at cud stand it wir piking up th’ bits.
But after a while when thay all becum calm,
Thay gathered together like bees in a swarm,
Resolved to pick up all th’ fragments an’ th’ wood,
An’ splice ’em together as weel as thay cud,
Hasumever thay started a putting it streight,
An’ wi spelking and braying thay soin made it reight.
Six months nah elapsed, an’ th’ gert job wur done,
An’ th’ next thing to argue wur wen it sud run;
So thay sent Joe a Stirks araand wi his bell,
An’ gave him strict orders at he wur to tell
At th’ inspector hed been an’ examined it throo,
An’ cum to th’ conclusion at th’ railway wud do.
So to wark wi’ a vengeance, the bellman set to
To warn up a meeting at th’ Black Bull,
It wod a dun yo all good to hear Joey shaat,
For thay heard him distinctly for miles all abaat,
For i’ less ner ten minits, thay flockt so fast,
While Jonny Broth’s horses thay cudnt get past.
So thay framed on wi’ th’ meeting an’ th’ chairman spak first,
An’ tell’d ’em at th’ railway wur finish’d at last,
An’ declared at th’ inspector hed passed when he cum
Both viaducts an’ bridges as saand as a plum;
As for sinkin’ agean thay wud do nowt o’th’ sort,
For thay sailed throo th’ arches i’ Marriner Boat.
So he hoped i’ this meeting thay all wud agree,
An’ settle when th’ oppening o’th’ railway sud be,
He thout for his part tho he nobbut wur one,
At first day o’ April wur t’ fittest to run,
Wen a voice sed, sit daan or I’ll pelt thee wi spoils,
Duz ta think at wur baan to be April foils?
Then up on to th’ platform jump’d Red Dicky Brook,
Along wi his uncle, Black Tom at Dyke Nook,
Determined to sattle an’ bring things araand,
As th’ railway wur finished, both proper an’ saand;
So thay pitched on a day, it wur April the fourth,
To oppen th’ grand railway fra Lundon to Haworth.
It wur carried as usual, bi th’ showin’ o’ hands,
Amidst great rejoicin’ an playin’ o’ bands,
Both oud men an’ wimen had a smile on thair face,
For all wur dead certain it wur baan to tak’ place,
So thay fled to thair homes like bees to a hive,
Impashent an’ ankshus for th’ day to arrive.
Hasumever th’ day at wur menshun’d before,
An’ folk wur all flockin’ fro maantan an’ th’ moor,
An’ little thay thout wen thay set off that morn,
Another disaster wud laff ’em to scorn,
For Joe Stick wur sent out to tell ’em to stop
For poor Haworth Railway hed gotten i’ pop.
Na this wur a damper an’ th’ biggest i’th’ lot,
An th’ folks thay declared it wur Keighla plot,
But one Jack o’ Ludges sed he’d stop ’em thair prate,
He’a learn ’em i’ Keighla to insinuate,
Thay’st hev no excurshuns for nowt but thair lip,
And Shipla an’ Bradford shud hev the first trip.
He sed he’d been quiet, but he’d na interfere,
He’d wauk up to Derby an tell ’em up thear,
Ha thay hed been skitted sin first they begun,
An’ na wen th’ wur finished thay wurn’t to run;
But ha he went on I never did hear,
But one thing I’m certain he must a been thear.
For th’ tenth day of April bills wur put aat,
That th’ railway wud oppen whithaat any daat,
An’ a famous excurshun fra Bradford wod run,
An call at all th’ stashuns wi th’ excepshun o’ won,
For nowt aat o’ Keighla to Haworth sud ride,
For that day all tha’ luggage wur left o’ won side.
Scarce Keighla crookt legg’d ens hed heard o’ the news
An’ wur just baan to give ’em the greatest abuse,
Wen a order cum aat fra sum unknawn scource,
That Keighla crookt legg’d ens cud go up of course,
