2013

A packhorse driver sings his disdain for the efforts of the Turnpike Trust to make him pay the toll!

Play the song below or click here to download it

The Jagger’s Refrain – you can find the words here:

From Halifax to Oldham I tread the old trackways,
I lead my train o’er Cop Hill
and down the cobbled lanes
Past Tyas’ Slawit Manor
and on to Marsden town,
Past stocks and church and hostleries,
my bell horse in the van

The packmen of the Pennines, we bring you pretty things
As well as salt and corn and coal to warm you till the spring.

From Marsden we climb up Pule Hill,
the ways are rough and steep;
The panniers catch on the rocks,
the cloughs are dark and deep.
There’s no way for the wagons or
coaches through these hills,
No way to bring machinery
to set up carding mills –

The packmen of the Pennines, we bring you pretty things
As well as salt and corn and coal to warm you till the spring.

And cross Close Moss to Uppermill
we trek through rain and snow.
The biting wind cuts through my cloak,
my feet freeze with the blow.
But now the highway’s laid below
by Knaresborough’s Blind Jack
He’s crossed the mires with cunning guile
by bundling whin and brack.

The packmen of the Pennines, we bring you pretty things
As well as salt and corn and coal to warm you till the spring.

Jack’s roads are fine, his roads are wide
and coaches will sustain,
But not for me the turnpike road,
for a jagger with his train.
The toll-board at the bar-house
spells it out loud and clear,
It’s thruppence for each pony!
We think it very dear.

The packmen of the Pennines, we bring you pretty things
As well as salt and corn and coal to warm you till the spring.

I cannot spare a florin
That’s all I make each day,
And for the ease of coachmen
I’m not inclined to pay.
They’re welcome to collect their tolls
And though they find it galling,
We’ll keep our old ways cross the hills-
You’ll hear our bells come calling:

The packmen of the Pennines, we bring you pretty things
As well as salt and corn and coal to warm you till the spring.

 
Begin your walk at the hospital car park. Follow the yellow brick road of childhood to the kissing gate of hormonal teenagers, then fork left and take the gentle incline through Twenty Something Lane.

Around 3 years down you’ll see a stile on the right. (Sometimes the hedgerow is a little overgrown here but there’s another stile a little further down for those enjoying the wild flowers on the lane.)

Once over the stile you’re into the Pasture of the Big Wide World. Stop and soak up the view here as there’s a lot to take in. There is a clear track through the grass but mind the odd thistle and mud patch along the way. Once over the second stile take the bench and think hard before moving on.

You have 2 options here, you can take the 30 year scenic coastal route past wild orchids and rare birds or you can take the more treacherous 20 year route through the Forest of Capitalist Doom. Either way, each passes the Boulder of Middle Age but there’s a steep ascent through the woodland and you’ll need suitable attire here to fend off the pesky nettles!

Each route is clearly signposted and leads to the Waterfall of Retirement. Here you can picnic, paddle in the river and reflect on life’s journey. The hospital car park is off to your left – a few short years away.

Emma Melling, July 2012

Travellers through Time – 30^th November 2012

Milestones are literal as well as metaphorical


I sat on the TransPennine train leaving Leeds –
Passing boarded-up houses, smart empty apartments,
Old mills sprouting shrubs from the tops of their chimneys –
Speeding to York cross agrarian landscapes;
The Wharfe bursting free from her corsetting banks,
Turning flat fields to silver in the bright winter sun.

Flashing through Linton, my thoughts collocating
Recalled other travellers from far distant days
Riders who travelled on foot or by horseback,
Footprints on muddy tracks, marking the ways

The first King Edward setting out sorrowfully
From Lincoln to London, following the coffin
Of Eleanor of Castile, his much beloved Queen,
Taking the long route around through Northampton –
The Great northwards Road, the King’s very own Highway
Full flooded to quagmire from the spill of the Nene.

The farm-labourers and servants, tramping the turnpikes
To Michaelmas hiring fairs, holding mattock or mop,
To be sealed for a shilling, for another year’s labour,
Their lives zig-zagging from homestead to homestead,
Passing by milestones as they moved on again –
Events marked by milestones on footpaths through time.

I thought about students whose own lives will zigzag,
Through waysides untrodden in their ancestors’ time,
And events and turning points, their own personal milestones
Will be recklessly tagged on facebook’s timeline.

 Eleanor Cross

 King Edward I had elaborate stone crosses erected in memory of his wife Eleanor of Castile, marking the twelve overnight   resting-places along the route taken in 1290 when her body was transported to London. Only three remain in place today, at Geddington, Hardingstone and Waltham Cross; Charing Cross is a replacement.

Jan Scrine
30 November 2012