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COWLING PAST AND
PRESENT. BY ALFRED TEAL.
Reprinted from
the "WEST YORKSHIRE PIONEER ", November
1902.
Supplied By: Mrs Anne Akeroyd
I am not going to take my readers back,
even in imagination, to the time when Cowling was one
vast forest, or the time when our sturdy forefathers
first took the axe in hand and began to cultivate the
soil. As Englishmen, or to become more homely, as
Yorkshire men, we believe there is no place like home.
Still, the familiarity with its hills and dales, its
rocky heights, and woody ravines, appears to most of us
commonplace. Why? Because we never try to find any thing
new in them. We are surrounded in summer with an almost
illimitable variety of flowers, herbs, and ferns whose
names are almost unknown to us hundreds of varieties of
insects, birds, and animal life of whose names and
habits we know little, yet whose study would be worthy
of our spare moments. The watercourses abound in
fossils, such as the Lepidodendron, Ligillaria,
Calamite, etc, which reveal to us the fact this
neighbourhood was once a tropical clime. Also the rocks,
shell fossils, encrinites, foraminifera, etc, teach us
that it was once an ocean bed. The " HITCHING STONE" and
Crags remind us that glaciers once did their silent work
in this locality. But leaving geology, let me first take
my reader upon the breezy moor, by way of " Dean Moss
"over " Andrew Hill " to what we term as the "New Hut "a
good substantial stone building which was opened this
last summer. It has been built by public subscriptions,
and fitted with stoves and cooking utensils, and through
the season it has been a public health resort for the
people of Cowling. We are far away from the madding
crowd ; nothing breaks the stillness except the call of
grouse, a passing moortit, the bleating sheep, or the
distant wail of a peewit. In days gone by we should have
been standing on the shores of a lake, or reservoir,
known as the " Old-Dam "and standing on the heather
covered bank, one longs to see the opening where it
burst through, made up again, and a few boats on the
spot for sailing, which would make the " New Hut "
almost as popular a pleasuring place as the sea side, as
well as a rendezvous for skaters during the frosty
season.
Behind us we have a peculiar range of hills, known as "
Timothy Scaurs " and as we wander about amongst the
hillocks we wonder how they came there.
This was once a busy centre of industry, along with
another place just across the moor known as Round Holes,
or in broad Yorkshire " Ra'and Hoils ". These were both
lime works fifty years ago, and the lime was exported
across the moors to Ponden Scartop. and other villages
bordering on the moor on the other side. If we crossed
the moor we should find remains of a causeway which was
once extended over the moor ; over this causeway the
lime was conveyed.
Perhaps twenty or thirty ponies were used for this
purpose ( or gals as they were known in those days ).
The gals carried the lime in bags across their saddles,
the leading gal having bells fastened to it, and the
others following single file ; and those who are to
young to remember them are left to imagine the
procession as they crossed the moor daily to the musical
tinkle of the bells, and the crack of the drivers whip.
Near to the Round Holes at this period the Laneshaw coal
pits were in operation. Though the coal was far from our
ideal class of coal, yet it supplied the village with
its apology for coal. Before we leave the moors let us
visit that monster stone, " Hitching Stone " standing in
solitude on the bleak moor as a boundary mark, and one
which cannot be easily moved. Here used to be celebrated
the Hitching Stone Feast on the 12th of august when the
grouse shooting commenced. Racing and various sports
took place, but uneven ground made racing difficult,
though it helped to put action into the competitors.
Now let us visit Gill Bottom. As we stand on the bridge,
and look up at the ruined mill and the ivy covered
houses, all is silent except the murmur of the brook and
the rush of the spring from the closed mine . Once it
watered the farm houses scattered along the hillside,
but the mines drew it away, and left the cottages with a
meagre supply.
Last summer they had all their water to fetch from a
distance for months, but this year the supply has been
greater than the demand. Standing on the bridge, we ask
yourself the question Has this quiet valley ever been
disturbed by the humdrum of life? Yes and I will try to
take you back in imagination to the time when this was
one of Cowling's busy centres.
Just opposite the row of cottages to our right (which
are now unoccupied) stood a mill or “weaving shop “as
they were called in those days. This place was filled
with handlooms and bobbin engines, and business was
transacted after the quaint methods of the day. The
rules of a weaving shop were different to rules in our
factories to day.
Each weaver had to pay rent for his stand for a loom,
which was called “shop rent " and if a weaver was off
work for a week he had to weave the next week sufficient
to pay his rent before he could start for himself. He
also had to find his own candles when "lighting up time”
came. I might just add here that since power looms were
introduced into the neighbourhood weavers had to buy
their own candles, weft forks, brushes etc. It was quite
common to see a weaver at two looms, with black warps
in, and an "eights" candle swung over him was the only
light he had. This reminds me of a notice given out from
the pulpit of one of chapels " A preaching service will
be held at Moss - Bar, on a certain night, and it is
requested that the congregation bring their weaving
candles with them." Even since gas was introduced into
our neighbourhood the weaver had to pay half the gas
bill.
But to return to Gill Bottom. Opposite the bridge we
notice the heaps of shale and gravel which have been
excavated from the bowels of the earth. Once upon a time
an enterprising party, after prospecting, came to the
conclusion that this quiet valley was not without its
wealth. So miners were engaged and machinery got to the
place and with pick and shovel the miners in process of
time struck the lead ore, and the miniature Klondike did
its daily round and common task. Just above the bridge
stands in ruins another mill, which was burnt down a
little over 30 years ago. This place once employed many
hands and did a prosperous business. But let us go
twenty yards further up the valley, and we shall see the
ruins of a rope walk. The crumbling walls are covered
with brambles and other creepers. It is situated in one
of the most picturesque places in Cowling. In early
spring the hill side is literally covered with
primroses. This place furnished our village with ropes
and twine of various kinds. Not only from this village
but from many a village and town, orders were sent into
this sequestered valley. No doubt the visitor will have
noticed the waterfall just below here. There used to be
a water wheel, which, by means of a long rope ran the
works of this “Band Mill ". I think I have said
sufficient to show that this quiet valley with no human
habitation today, was once a busy part of Cowling.
We will now leave Gill Bottom and following the road it
leads us to Cowling Hill another almost deserted place
but once the village proper, situated on the old road to
Colne. It possessed its village green (which is now en
closed ). Here in bygone days were held the sports and
pastimes. It was the centre of sport. Often men from the
country around have assembled here to indulge in the
popular winter "bone hunt". They kindled a fire upon the
village green and got a large bone and placed it in the
fire.
When sufficiently burnt they took it out and tied a
string to it, and trailed it over the snow around the
whole countryside, and finally buried it in the snow.
The competing dogs were then let loose, and followed the
scent of the burnt bone and the dog which discovered it
first won the prize !
Let us now come back again to Freegate and Ickornshaw,
where decay and ruin meet the eye at every turn.
Freegate has its tumbled down mill and similar cottages,
yet it has had its day. Here Cowling used to celebrate
its feasts. It was the centre of attraction at a feast
time when everybody was full of life and mirth. Long
rows of stalls attracted the juvenile portion where they
spent often their only pence during the year on small
novelties which had to last them until another festive
occasion. Here was seen the " toppler " displaying his
antics and the box organ grinding out its popular airs.
The races which were always run on the main road were
one of the principal features. When these events came
off a man stood in a prominent place and rang a big bell
for a considerable time until the people all flocked
around him, and then he gave out in lound tones the
rhyme which had been handed down to him from his
ancestors : -
"Three, an' a' race Fra Hoggit loin top An' this place."
The race run twice off and on, between Freegate and the
place named.
Now let us look at Ickornshaw Mill and our minds go back
to the time when it was in the possession of that good
and noble man Abram Binns, who was the founder of
Methodism in Cowling. Not only did he found it but he
supported it at his own expense for 17 years until the
day of his death. Ickornshaw Mill was carried on by
Abram Binns as a cotton spinning factory and as we view
it today we wonder what its future will be and wish we
could bring back to it its once popular trade of cotton
spinning. Spinning was also carried on at Royd Mills.
Middleton in the days of hand looms, possessed two
weaving shops and Winkholme Providence Place and Flood
Root each had similar establishments whose history would
furnish us with many an interesting incident. To finish
our ramble let us take a stroll down the " Bottoms " .
We come past the old stables now in ruins where once the
fine bred hunters were kept, and the dog kennels by old
Carr Head now a relic of the past and as we gaze at the
Carr Head with its towering trees and lovely
surroundings we can almost imagine the old hall again
full of activity and hear the crack of a gun as the
pheasants rise above the trees, or see the bright
coloured riders as they clear the fences in wild pursuit
of their quarry. But now a stillness reigns over the
place and as we pass the old stables on a night we think
of the ghosts and goblins, and start at the screech of
an owl.
Many things in Cowling which helped to make it
picturesque have disappeared the waving cornfields which
once added beauty to our hills desire no longer to be
seen the three windmills which helped to break the
monotony of the landscape as they lazily turned on a
summers day are gone and long smoky chimneys are the
most prominent monuments of today.
In those by-gone days one might hear the click click of
the hand loom, and the buzz of the spinning wheel, in
almost every home, singing to the music of the loom, as
they picked the shuttle to and fro and we can picture
the weaver as he rests a little from his toil, smoking
his pipe in peace outside his cottage door, enjoying a
freedom which is almost unknown in these days of push
and hurry. The business of today is the "get up" of a
thing the shoddy passed off as good substantial cloth
prints you can scarce detect from the real woven
colours, mercerised for silk and a thousand articles all
show which are scarcely worth anything when it comes to
service.
But only the real thing stands the test of time; the
quality of handloom cotton woven by our forefathers
stands in the estimation of the people of today as "the
best”. I have now shown as best I could, what Cowling
was like fifty or sixty years ago.
Let me now call your attention to the difference between
our forefathers and us. Enter one of our village homes
today, and you find the carpeted floor the fancy
sideboard, easy chairs and luxuriant furniture, a living
room and a room for special occasions, a sewing machine
papered walls, and ( no homestead is thought complete
without it ) a piano. But contrast this with the homes
of our grand fathers. A handloom in place of a sewing
machine sanded floors in place of carpets a stool
instead of an easy chair. The special room was the one
filled with peats, the walls were all white washed both
living place and bedrooms without any under drawing and
in many cases a man sitting by his fireside could see
the blue sky above him through holes in the chamber
floor and the roof. On many a winter's morning the
people had to be very careful when getting out of bed
lest they should step into one of the snowdrifts in the
bedroom made during the night. Some of the homesteads
possessed four or five handlooms the principal
furniture.
The warp sizing was often done on a Saturday night, and
put on the stretch to dry and at some of the houses
combing was done by hand. We have had a glimpse at the
homes now let us contrast the fashions of today with
those of the past. Walking along our streets when
everybody is dressed in their Sunday best a stranger
would find it hard to distinguish an employee from his
employer or a schoolmistress from a mill operative. How
different to the days when starch and linen did not
trouble anybody, when a cloth suit classed a man as a
gentleman; when a brown velvet jacket and vest fustian
trousers, and a white hat were too good for everyday
wear and were only worn on a Sunday with a pair of iron
sided clogs. And this kind of suit for Sunday had to
used with great care. Big leather aprons, known as
"leather jumps" were used to protect them from becoming
shabby.
An every day suit was of fustiangreasy and patched,
through long years of wear. Among the lads new suits
were almost unknown. They were often made from their big
brothers or their fathers "cast offs", and sometimes
they were so patched that it was hard to tell which was
the patch and which the suit. During two or three months
in summer time the children never used to wear either
stockings or clogs. ( They must have had better summers
in those days ! ) The girls used to wear " cheka brats "
to go to Sunday school in, with a handkerchief tied over
their head. When they got these on they were considered
smart. and some of the young women used to wear their "checka
brats" even after they were married. When the weather
became so cold that stockings for the children were a
necessity, reducing became necessary, and the stockings
of up grown persons were made to fit their children. The
stockings were cut up the middle and sewn to make the
size required.
The abject poverty of our neighbourhood in those days
made it impossible for anyone to indulge in luxuries.
The main reason of their being so poor was that they
were not compelled to work, for a man was his own
master, and many of them used to idle away the beginning
of the week and never start work in good earnest until
just before the pay day. Then at the last "push" they
would sometimes work all night. If a man had been
compelled to work ten hours a day as we are he could
undoubtedly have lived in comfort.
Had our forefathers been living today they would have
believed in the saying of a middle tonight "that they
wod'nt mind gooin' ta't mill if they hedn't ta get up
i'th neet ta gooa". There was however, one qualification
of our forefathers which we do not possess - the
Cowlingites are not the sturdy, healthy, vigorous set of
people they once were when plain simple diet was the
only diet when indigestion and biliousness were unknown;
when one doctor was not as hard worked as are half a
dozen today for the same area. In those days dry bread
was above an ordinary meal; with treacle or dripping up
on it, it was considered a luxury and often "haver
bread”, with a thin slice of white bread upon it was
eaten as we eat cheese an"haver bread". Butter was
scarcely ever tasted, and old milk or skim milk was used
precisely as we use new milk. The luxury they could best
afford to indulge in was eggs which were 36 for the
shilling. As we muse upon the strong healthy men of the
past many of whom never knew what a day's sickness was
until they broke down from sheer old age we envy them.
Many of them walked to Draughton, Beamsley and Addingham
and back again on a Sabbath day in order to tell the old
old story. All honour to such men. In this respect our
village today lacks the grit of our ancestors.
The people of Cowling are now an educated people
compared with those of the past. The broad dialect of
the village is fast dying out. I will give an example of
one of the former schools of learning. It was kept in
Ickornshaw by a woman, who had the misfortune to lose
her right arm and in consequence had commenced a school.
Her name was Betty French and she used to set copies in
pencil in a large hand to be traced over in ink by her
pupils. She moved about amongst her scholars with her
pet cat always perched upon her shoulder drilling them
in the art of writing and learning them to spell. I have
heard it said that she did not know anything about
figures. Imperfect as the places of learning were in
those days, it was not everybody who got the opportunity
of attending these rudimentary schools. Many of the boys
started work at five, six and seven years of age, and so
were robbed of any education at all, and as a natural
consequence many of the people were ignorant and had no
knowledge of things which transpired beyond the bounds
of their horizon. In times of war a man would think
nothing of walking to Colne for a newspaper and then
securing the services of one of the few villagers who
could read they would make their way to a certain house
and thereto an audience of perhaps a dozen men the news
of the war was read.
As showing the ignorance of some of the villagers a
story is told of the parson calling to see one of his
parishioners, and being surprised at the ignorance she
displayed on biblical matters. " But surely, my good
woman, " said the pastor, "you know the ten
commandments? " " Nay " she said"aw' nobbut knaw fower,
and they're north, south east and west ". But today with
our Board school which has done such a noble work for
nearly thirty years, we are better educated and more
comfortable in every way. Cowling however still remains
an isolated village outside the network of railways, and
likely to remain so until a generation of agitators
springs up in our midst. In this respect we lack the
grit and energy of our forefathers, who were men who had
to think and plan for them selves while we sit down and
expect providence to send a railway. During the past few
years the village has been anything but prosperous, and
I believe nothing can bring it back to its once
flourishing condition but a railway. What is required in
the neighbourhood is new trades. There were far more in
the old days than now - spinning, lime burning, band
making bobbin turning, coal and lead mining, all these
are industries we have lost completely. I imagine some
people saying " What's the good of talking about the
past ? " or to quote from a beautiful poem "The mill
will never turn with the water that is past." 'Tis true,
we cannot live upon the past, but has not the past made
us what we are ? If our forefathers were unlearned and
uncultivated, they have paved the way for us, and many
of them have left us a bright example to follow, for " A
tree is known by its fruit, and a village by the grit of
its inhabitants ".
Reprinted from the "WEST YORKSHIRE PIONEER ", November
1902. |
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