July 2009

Your letters

A remarkable lady

Mrs P Frankland, Dunnington, York

Stories of a suffragette

I was extremely interested in the article ‘Hiding out in Harrogate’ (May), as I knew Leonora Cohen quite well. In my late teens when I was at college in Leeds, I used to visit her from time to time and loved to listen to stories of her life.

When she was a little girl she had tuberculosis and the doctors told her parents she would not live beyond about seven years. She was over one hundred years old when she died.

On my confirmation, Leonora gave me an ivory backed prayer book, which she wrote in and signed.

To return to the suffragettes, besides her famous story about the Tower of London which you mention, another one she liked to tell was when she was put in prison in Armley Gaol for her activities as a suffragette.

Many years later when she was a JP she went to visit the gaol with some other dignitaries. The staff at the gaol showed her the inmates register and her name was on it from when she was inside. This quite amused her.

Mrs A Stephenson, Goathland, Whitby

Bradford’s exotic names

Regarding Mr Scurrah’s letter in ‘Can you help?’ (May), if he had walked a little further he would have reached another place with a strange name – Jerusalem Farm. This was a regular walk my girlfriend and I took in the 1930s. Another favourite was through Six Days Only, perhaps also a reference to the Bible.

Dennis Goode, Knaresborough

Bradford’s exotic names pt 2

Mr Scurrah (May) queried the origins of various place names in the Bradford area, including Bay of Biscay at Chellow Heights.
Soon after the enclosure of the moors and commons of Heaton in 1781, a row of cottages were built alongside the turnpike road to Haworth and Colne. As the work of converting the rough acid moorland into fertile farmland had been particularly arduous, the cottages were originally known as ‘Hard Venture’ but within a few years the more logical name of ‘Bay of Biscay’ had asserted itself.

Why logical? The cottages are about 850 ft (260 m) above sea level overlooking Airedale, and when wild, wintry winds
are blowing, the phrase ‘as rough as the Bay of Biscay’ is the one which springs to mind.

Stanley King, Heaton, Bradford

A good sport

I was fascinated to read ‘A royal cricketer’ by Simon Newton. It reminded me of a ‘prayer’ I found pinned to the wall in an old friend’s study many years ago. I understand that this ‘prayer’ was written by K S Ranjitsinhji himself:

“Oh Powers that be, make me to observe and keep the rules of the game.
Help me not to cry for the moon.
Help me neither to offer nor to welcome cheap praise.
Give me always to be a good comrade.
Help me to win, if I may win, but – and this, Oh Powers, especially – if I may not win, help me to be a good loser.”

Mrs Judi Pennington, Farnley, Nr Otley

Founder not forgotten

The article by Andy Bottomley ‘Remembering at Low Row’ (May) certainly aroused memories with a reference to Philip Lord Wharton.

In 1945 I was living in Watchhouse Lane, Doncaster with my Grandparents, and the nearest church for Sunday School was St Leonard and St Jude. As part of our homework we had to learn a Psalm off by heart, we had a choice from a list of seven. After several weeks we then had to recite our chosen Psalm to a panel at Sunday School. The rewards came later when we were presented with a Bible, which I still have now, from the Will of Philip, Lord Wharton who died 4 February 1696.

Eric Marsh, Evesham, Worcestershire

A special place

As an occasional reader of Dalesman, I thought I would write about my favourite spot in Yorkshire called Laskill Grange just inside the North York Moors, Bilsdale.

I was invited to help out with lambing at Laskill Country House. It was from there on the bridge where the River Seph flows, that it took my breath away with trees overhanging from a nearby bank. The birds sang joyfully into the evening light, and I wished I could have stayed forever. I witnessed a lamb being born and learnt a great deal about sheep farming and the countryside – it made me want to learn more.

Owen Barber, Nether Edge, Sheffield

Fighting for moonraker

I am eighty-seven and receive the Dalesman every month. I was born and raised in a small village in Wiltshire and am proud to be a Wiltshire man. However, I have strong links with Yorkshire as my wife is from Hornsea and my sister lives in Wakefield. On our visits to Yorkshire I was very impressed by the friendliness and generosity of the people.

There is one issue I should raise, that of ‘Moonraker’ (re ‘The Broughton poaching affair’ in February and Mrs A Murray’s letter in April). We have always believed that the term was attributed to us for hundreds of years, and the term ‘Wiltshire Moonraker’ has always been a part of our culture.

I know that Yorkshire has the edge on us as regards size, and the variety of beautiful landscapes and cities etc, but please do not take away our Moonraker title.

I must congratulate you upon your 70th anniversary issue – I thoroughly enjoyed reading the stories and articles.

Geoff Chamber, Andover, Hampshire

Re-discovering Baysdale

After reading Jonathan Herbert’s ‘The changing face of the Dales’ (April) regarding his birthday issue, I must tell you of my birthday copies.

I, like him, was browsing through a bookshop but this shop is far away from Hawes, in fact the other side of the world.
A charity shop in Nuriootpa in South Australia was where I first came across Dalesman. This was a couple of years ago and I saw a bundle of magazines. On it was a sticker with $1 for the lot. I got six Dalesman – what a bargain. The lady who sold them to me said they are going to a happy home. The oldest magazine in the bundle was dated 1982.

Reading the July 1982 issue, the walk over Kildale Moor took me back over sixty years. Countless times I’ve walked from Kildale railway station over the moor top to Baysdale. My grandparents lived at the keeper’s lodge near Baysdale Abbey.
Arriving there one day during the war I asked my grandmother where they sheltered when the air raids started. She must have smiled when she pointed to the corrugated iron roof over the ferret shed.

Ken Johnson Greenock, South Australia

Young farmers’ fun

It must have been around Easter time in the early 1950s when petrol was still rationed. There was to be a Young Farmers’ Ball up the Dales, thirty miles away. An event not to be missed, attracting young people from miles around.

Not having a car between us, my father said we could borrow the light truck used daily for milk deliveries. I was used to driving it, but there was a slight hitch as it was only licensed for farm business. My father contacted a farmer who lived near the venue, who said we could park the truck in his yard. So, three milk churns were fastened on the back and we set off to Skipon Town Hall, three girls in the front and three boys on the back with the cans.

The atmosphere at the Ball was great, everyone was so friendly – as Dales people are. A wonderful time was had by all, and we danced, with a break for supper, until 2am, by which time we were tired.

One of the boys fetched the truck and we were soon on our way. By the time I arrived home it was nearly morning, and the cows were almost ready for milking.

It was a great night and one which many Young Farmers will remember with pleasure.

Tricia Green, St Neots, Cambridgeshire

The many names of a dale

In Jonathan Herbert’s article ‘The changing face of the Dales’ (April 09), he asks why Amerdale became Littondale. I thought that Amerdale was the name given to Littondale on the Kilnsey side of the Skirfare river, while Vendale was the name of the Kettlewell side. Vendale certainly was where Charles Kingsley’s “Water Babies” was located, and Arncliffe was where he stayed whilst writing the book. The village at the head of the dale was well known for the Falcon Arms and Marmaduke Miller.

However, if you look in the book The Yorkshire Dales – a view from the Millennium, it refers to Amerdale as an older name for Littondale, named after the village of Litton, and Vendale as the fictional name used by Charles Kingsley.

Sydney P Larter, Canada

If the cap fits

Reading Ian McMillan’s article in the May edition on flat caps remined me of my grandad, a retired miner from Rotherham.
He was admitted to hospital and informed my father he could not read because the nurses would not allow him to wear his cap. He told my father he needed to wear his cap to stop his glasses from falling off.

Anita Stokes, by email

We welcome readers' letters, which should be sent to:
Dalesman, The Water Mill, Broughton Hall, Skipton, North Yorkshire BD23 3AG
Or email: paul@dalesman.co.uk

The editor reserves the right to edit letters for length and clarity.