October 2009

Your letters

Ouse debate

I was most interested to read the letter from J K Gardiner in the August issue about the River Ouse. I was born in Great Ouseburn at the Three Horseshoes Inn which is now a private house, and I attended the village school. I grew up knowing that in the grounds of the Union Workhouse there was a stone marking the source of the Ouse Beck.

In the November 1991 issue of Dalesman, there is an excellent article by W R Mitchell describing his visit to Great Ouseburn and seeing the source stone, and the inscription indicating Ouse Head – Mr Alan Ellis showed him the stone. Where the Ouse Gill Beck came into view, it then flowed on until it joined the River Ure, and when the two meet the whole river is known as the Ouse. Mr Ellis also mentioned a signpost on the riverbank on the arms of which was carved ‘Ure’ and ‘Ouse’.

During the early 1940s when out walking one evening, my father and I came upon this wooden marker post and my father was surprised to see it. He expected it would have been removed, as were other signposts, due to the threat of wartime invasion. I remember seeing ‘Ure’ on the arm pointing upstream towards Aldwark Toll Bridge and ‘Ouse’ on the arm pointing downstream towards York. Linton-on-Ouse aerodrome was on the opposite side, in the North Riding, a bit further down stream from where the marker post was – we were in the West Riding.

In June 2000 an old school pal took some friends to Great Ouseburn and was going to show them the source stone, but was disappointed that they couldn’t find it, although the last time she saw it she’d told me it was crumbling. She recalled the stone as tall, painted white with a red band around the top. On page thirty-eight of the November 1991 Dalesman there is a photograph of the stone, but it doesn’t look white, and a man standing beside it looks to be less than half its height.

Mrs Annie Lyon, Prescot, Merseyside

Editor’s note: Many thanks to all those who wrote in on this subject – sorry we haven’t the space to show them all.

Visit to Nappa Hall

I write to thank you for the excellent July issue, filled with colour and interest in all aspects of Dales life. I was especially interested in My Best Day Out which described a B&B visit to Nappa Hall in Wensleydale, a fortified manor house of the fifteenth century.

At the time of my last visit there, in the mid 1990s, it was a farmhouse and the owner kindly let me do an on-site painting. I used acrylic ink applied by a cocktail stick – rather than a pen or brush – to reproduce the memories of a happy day. I am now in a nursing home where my painting hangs on the wall in my room, where I can happily revisit Nappa Hall at any time I wish.

Brian Breton, Leeds

The Roberts family

Regarding David Swallow’s ‘Can You Help?’ letter in April’s Dalesman.
I attended Woodhouse Grove School in Apperley Bridge, a stone’s throw from Calverley, from 1930 to 1937, and was a keen member of the scouts during that period. In later years as a rover scout, I frequently met D T Roberts, one of the sons of Donald, who was the Scout Commissioner for the area.

In 1937 on leaving school, I joined the Territorial Army and spent eight years as a soldier. In 1943 I was awarded a commission, and my wish was to join the First Battalion Green Howards, which I did when the battalion was in Angio, Italy. It did not take long before gossip caused Major D T Roberts to send for me to report to him. This produced a very pleasant friendship indeed.

Unfortunately it was not long before D T Roberts was killed, I believe by sniper fire. I was very touched when his batman sought me out and gave me D T’s beret, which I was very proud to wear.

When I was demobbed in 1946, I went to Calverley to see Mrs Roberts to talk about D T but, unfortunately perhaps, I did not go again as I had felt uncomfortable, probably wrongly, that Mrs Roberts resented the fact that I was there and not one of her sons.

R M Briggs, Bridlington

Mucky Boots

Albert and Rosie were getting old. Rosie’s shoulders were stooped, and Albert was unsteady on his feet.

They were spending a day out from Bradford with their nephew who was a cattle farmer in the Dales, as they had done many times before. Part of the routine was that Albert was taken up the field to have a look at the cattle. For this he borrowed a pair of wellingtons that were too big for him.

Albert and his nephew inspected the cows in the field, patted the calves in the shed, and then went round to the bull pen. The big, brown and white Ayrshire was looking over the door tossing his head and making low, moaning threatening noises. You could hear him stamping his feet.

Albert was quite glad to return to the house. It was getting dark and he knew that there would be a perfectly toasted teacake waiting for him.

He stumbled over the threshold and fell flat on his face. All Rosie could say was, “Albert, how many times have I told you not to bring mucky boots into the house!”

Roger Smith, Derby

Memories of Malham

Reading an article about peregrine falcons at Malham Cove brought back memories of a sun-drenched week at Malham Tarn House Study Centre, as it was then in 1953.

I arrived in a wagon from Hellifield with a party from Ecclesfield Grammar School. The boys in the party stayed in a cottage near the house. We were to study the flora and fauna of the area in the care of Miss Wise our bouncy, enthusiastic, biology teacher.

Everyday was sunny as we followed different activities, one day tarn dipping (pond dipping only bigger), and on another I went to Malham Cove to look at a rare orchid in the clints and grikes – it was about half an inch across. I think I’d expected a foot or so.

We had a walk up Fountains Fell on a scorching day, watching the mating ritual of great crested grebe on the tarn, and we had sandwiches for lunch, taking in the glorious scenery. These were the halcyon days (yes, we saw a kingfisher).

I could understand how Charles Kingsley, who they say stayed at the house, got his inspiration for The Water-babies, from the black soot-like mark on Malham Cove and the water at the bottom. The film ‘Another Man’s Poison’ was filmed around the house and tarn. It wasn’t poison to me, it was an antidote to all ills.

Breakfast and evening meals were taken in the house; generous three course meals in the evening. After our meal, we had talks and compared different results of our day’s activities. After that, we had the rest of the evening to ourselves. I remember walks around the tarn with a girl from Skipton Girls High School who was there at the same time as us. Her name was Enid Bright and I couldn’t get her out of my head for weeks.

At the end of the week I realised that Miss Wise and the staff at the centre had peeled the scales from my eyes for ever.
I knew I wouldn’t be going the following year as National Service loomed. However, I later spent time in the wonderful Wiltshire countryside and back again to God’s own country at RAF Leeming. I’m lucky that my two daughters’ families have taken to the hills of Derbyshire, Lake District, Alps, Himalayas and Yorkshire.

M D Addy, Hoyland near Barnsley

Brass Neck

Many years ago I had a need for some fancy brass hinges, reasonably substantial, for a door I had to hang. I found some suitable ones at the local ironmongers in Garforth, in the days when we still had proper ironmongers. On announcing that I wanted three, the lady of the shop said they were only sold in pairs. Undaunted,
I said I would need – and I got – a pair and a half.

Stuart Simpson, Lincoln

Biking is in the blood

June’s issue of Dalesman gave me more pleasure than usual as I read the article about Dougie Lampkin.

I was born and brought up in Silsden and eventually became a teacher at Aire View School. I remember so well young Arthur, Dougie’s grandfather, and his sister Janet coming to school on their first day. I knew the family were keen on motorbikes, which was unusual in the village.

I am pleased to hear how successful Dougie is in his career. I would like to send him and his family my good wishes.

Enid M Kelly (née Pollard), Newcastle

Early tourism films

Further to the article about Burning Bartle (August) a short film, ‘North to the Dales’, made by British Transport Films in 1962 highlights amongst other things, this annual event in West Witton. As to Bartle himself, the commentator explains that he was a monk – presumably Catholic – trying to flee persecution at the time of the Reformation. Unfortunately, where this information came from is not made clear.

British Transport Films was founded in 1949 as a unit belonging to the then newly-nationalised British Transport Commission, of which the largest constituent was British Railways. It mostly made short travelogue-type films suitable for screening as extra features in cinemas, etc. as a form of advertising for rail travel, and also items promoting the work of the nationalised transport industries in general. Technically highly proficient, the unit could be said to have led the way for the post-war British documentary. I believe it was disbanded in the early 1980s.

John Duijsters, Bradford

Mystery song lyrics

I think I can help T B Clark of Harrogate (September) in the enquiry about two old songs containing the lines “One day when we were young…” and “What ere befall I still recall….”

I well remember both these songs from my childhood and can provide positive identification for the first one. It was sung by Jeannette McDonald and Nelson Eddie in one of several films they made in the early 1940s and I think the film was called ‘May-time’ or ‘Sweethearts’.

The second song is from the same period but I’m afraid I can’t pin it down exactly.

Patricia Harewood, Harewood House

Editor’s note: Many thanks to all those who responded… your letters have been sent on to T B Clark. “What Ere Befall” is from ‘The Maid of the Mountains’, an operetta by Harold Fraser-Simpson, lyrics by Harry Graham. “One Day When We Were Young” is from the operetta ‘Gypsy Baron’. Original German composition by Johann Straus II, adapted by Dimitri Tiomkin for the film ‘The Great Waltz’. There are variations of both songs.

Penning a bit of history

With reference to a review in June’s issue and a consequent letter in the August issue, I was honoured to be a contributor to the book Class of 58 by Robin Crawshaw. I now feel quite amazed that an article of mine and my contemporaries has been published and is actually on sale to the public.

It all began as an exercise to log our life histories without any thought of further fame or fortune. Many thanks for giving it a review and hopefully the book may prove of interest to a wide range of people, whether in education, history or business.

I must stress that a lot of hard work went into the book, especially by Robin Crawshaw, who edited all the contributions.
The final nail in the coffin is that Mirfield Grammar School, lately known as Castle Hall School, is now to close due to educational reorganisation; so at least our book will be a small contribution to its history and success.

David Stephenson, Huddersfield

Only in Yorkshire

Referring to the letter ‘A local legend’ (August), I was very amused at the content, especially the conversation between the two Yorkshire ladies. The conversation, as I recall, went:
“Ow’s your John?”
“Why he’s deead!”
“Eee I am sorry.”
“Aye, well I ’ave just bin to see ’im laid out an’ ’e did look well.
“What ’appened?”
“Well last Sunda’ I wa’ cookin’ dinner an’ I sent ’im out to pick some carrots from t’ veg patch. ’E were a long time so I went to see what were up. He were just there in t’ gardin deead.”
“Eee, what a shock, what did thee do?”
“Well, I just ’ad to oppen a tin o’ peas.”

Robert Young, Northallerton

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.