History Through A Pint Glass : 1. Steamy Huddersfield

It's time to introduce the second of my special summer series which will run alongside "Excavations Up My Back Passage" for the next couple of months. This one combines two great loves of mine : local history and beer and it seeks to examine historical events from the perspective of the bar stool. "History Through A Pint Glass" will allow readers to enter the public bar, the snug, or the tap room; enjoy a pint of real ale; and get an insight into some of the more interesting episodes in British history.

We start by going back 150 years to the time of railway mania as we visit what Sir John Betjeman once called "the most splendid station facade in England" - as we visit the King's Head and the Head of Steam at Huddersfield Station.

Let us start in the King's Head which is the bar located in the right hand pavilion of the main station building. Settle down with a pint of one of the many real ales on offer and consider what it must have been like to live in a thriving, confident industrial town which was in danger of being by-passed by the high-speed broadband of its day - the rapidly expanding railway network. It is 1841, only 16 years since the Stockton and Darlington Railway opened, and the rapidly expanding railway network has already linked Leeds to Manchester. The first trans-Pennine line has gone a few miles to the north of Huddersfield via the Calder Valley, leaving the town isolated, and dependent on horses and carts in the age of steam and power. The people of Huddersfield started planning and petitioning for the railway to come to the town and within a few years it had attracted not one, but two railway companies : the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Company and the Huddersfield and Manchester Railway and Canal Company.  Huddersfield might have been left with two mediocre stations, but good sense prevailed and the two companies decided to share the same building and one, magnificent, majestic, station was built. Each company had its own booking hall situated in the two pavilions at the edges of the main building. It is these two pavilions which are now the two bars of Huddersfield Station and as you buy your second pint (try the Magic Rock Brewery Curious if it is still available) you can examine in detail what was the booking hall of the Huddersfield and Manchester Railway and Canal Company. 

As you drain your glass and prepare for your taxing walk from one side of the station to the other, you might want to read the report in the Leeds Mercury (4th August 1849) of the first day of operation of the new line through Huddersfield :

"On Wednesday, the 1st inst., the Huddersfield and Manchester section of the London and North Western Railway was opened for passenger traffic. During the day the trains were nearly all behind time in consequence of the large influx of parties anxious to obtain a ride on the first day of the opening, and the great number of passengers that passed over the line to and from the agricultural show at Leeds. The last train to Manchester in the evening was due at Huddersfield at 8.32, but did not arrive until 10.15. A slight accident happened at the Marsden end of the Standedge tunnel, but luckily without  further damage than the delay it occasioned to the down train from Manchester due at Huddersfield at 9.55."

By now you should have reached the second of our two bars, the Head of Steam, which is located in what once was the booking hall of the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Company. When the station was at the height of its grandeur in the High Victorian age, the hospitality was provided by the Station Hotel which was situated in the centre of the building in what is now the main booking hall. The two bars in the pavilions are comparatively recent inhabitants of the fine old building, but you can buy yourself a pint of one of the many real ales available at the Head of Steam and pay homage to both the architect and the builder of this fine listed structure. The architect was J P Pritchett, a York based architect who was responsible for the design of many famous buildings in the County. The builder was the famous Huddersfield builder Joseph Kaye who was responsible for so many of the glories of Victorian Huddersfield.

What better way to finish our investigations into the railway history of Huddersfield that to buy yourself a final pint and perhaps take it through to the dining room for a spot of lunch. History through four pint glasses and a decently cooked steak.

Couples, Clumps And Clouds

We were away for the weekend. On Saturday we went to a wedding celebration which was combined with a 40th wedding anniversary party. I took the wedding photographs 40 years ago and I took them again this time. When Guy and Anastasia celebrate their 40th anniversary I hope I will be invited once again to take the photographs. I shall do my best to stick around on this mortal coil just in case.

On Sunday we went for a lovely walk in the Vale of the White Horse. We climbed Wittenham Clumps and walked around the site of the ancient hill fort. The trees tried to scrape rain from the laden clouds, but couldn't quite manage it. And now it is back to rain-soaked Yorkshire where the mill chimneys have none of the same problems.

Sepia Saturday 134 : Being Left With A Memory

Our Sepia Saturday prompt this week features a very elegant  and, I would imagine, an equally elegant baby. The pram featured in my photograph is not quite as elegant, but the baby is - I have to say that because it is none other than the Good Lady Wife. That is Isobel and, in the background, her mother Edith. The picture was taken just down the road from where we live now, indeed, our local pub, is just visible near the top of the road.  

I had a few old family photographs featuring prams to choose from, but I decided on this one in order to give it a good Spring clean. I was able to get rid of most of the stains, creases and blotches with a little help from Photoshop: although the process can be a little time-consuming, there is something rather therapeutic about it. Once you remove all the imperfections you are left with a memory, and that is what Sepia Saturday is all about.

Wheel your pram over to the Sepia Saturday Blog in order to see all the other contributors to Sepia Saturday 134.

Excavations 2 : Jean Monnet And An Old Mac

A Summer series highlighting some of the discoveries made whilst de-cluttering the back passages of my house.

Following my post the other day, it was my friend Jennyfreckles who asked the key question : "is the diary a Keep or a Throw?". The answer, of course, is that it is a Maybe. As I have mentioned before we are part of a special generation, the first generation of digital curators. We have the possibility of not only saving and storing contemporary objects, but also saving some of the vanishing objects of the past from obliteration and ensuring that they leave behind a timeless digital memory. Before explaining my decision in relation to the diary, let me move on to the object that was immediately below the diary : an eleven minute VHS Video entitled "Jean Monnet, Father of Europe (1888-1979)"

I remember acquiring this tape when I used to do work for the European Commission twenty or so years ago. It was one of the many give-aways produced by the Information Directorate of the Commission. There were rooms in the Berlaymont Building in Brussels stuffed with such things and I would often help myself to a few when I was there in order to give to objectionable cousins as Christmas presents. I no longer possess a VHS video player and therefore the tape is of little use to me and I have checked on-line and discovered that a couple of copies of the film still survive in academic libraries in Europe and America. I therefore feel completely justified in dropping the tape into the "Throw" box (cue sound effect of tape falling into rubbish bin). A similar search based on the Halifax and Calder Valley Diary 1971 reveals that the only on-line mention of such a volume links back to my post of a couple of days ago. If I throw it, it will be lost forever and a research opportunity for all future generations will follow it into land-fill. What I should do is to digitise it, but I fear that such a course of action might delay my de-cluttering timetable. The diary, therefore rests in the "Maybe" box.

I have no such problems with the photograph I found lodged between the diary and the video, I have scanned it and I hereby make it available (copyright free) to the rest of the world. Not that the copyright is mine to renounce as it is that strangest of animals in my collection - a picture which features me. Where it was taken I have no idea but I would guess it was about 25 years ago. That is my friend Chrissy on the left, I think that is my friend Jane next to her (note to Janie if you are reading this, could you confirm this identification), the Good Lady Wife, and myself. I have carefully examined the rather strange raincoat I seem to be wearing and I must confess to only have a vague recollection of ever having owned such a garment. I wonder what happened to it? Hang on a minute : what is that lodged behind the exercise ball in my infamous back passage?

Left Hand Down A Bit

Another of the photographs from my recent holiday. We were just leaving Gibraltar Harbour and, as far as I could make out, the entire ship was been steered from the bridge by a guy with a Sony Playstation controller. Whatever he used, it worked well and there were no Costa Concordia moments during the entire cruise.

Excavations 1 : A Pint Of Pennine Bitter With Champion Jack Dupree

A Summer series highlighting some of the discoveries made whilst de-cluttering the back passages of my house.

My progress into the fabled back passage is currently blocked by a large inflatable exercise ball which I was persuaded to buy a couple of years ago. I had been informed that all I needed to do was to sit on this contraption whilst I watched Coronation Street and the micro-balancing involved would cause me to lose three pounds in weight per week. I never got the chance to prove the theory as on the first day I fell off the bloody thing and seriously damaged my shoulder and I instantly consigned the ball to the dusty extremities of my storage room. Not having the courage to extricate the blockage at this early stage I managed to reach around it in order to produce my first find - a Halifax and Calder Valley Diary dating from some forty years ago.

I am not sure how I acquired this rather plush diary - it had clearly been produced for Councillors on Halifax Town Council and it contains long lists of Council meeting dates, Committee Chairmen and the like. But acquire it I did, and it is full of jottings and appointments in my own handwriting.

Before I get too much criticism for defrauding the Local Authority by misusing Council property, I should point out that such mock-leather bound goodies were paid for by local businesses who advertised in them. And looking back from four decades in the future, it is not the scribbled appointments that are the most intriguing, but some of the adverts for businesses that have long since faded and died. Samuel Websters' Fountain Head Brewery is now a housing development and the northern thirst must forever go unslaked. Would I have been drinking a pint of Pennine Bitter after attending a lecture on January 20th on "What is Economic Rent?" or listening to Champion Jack Dupree sing on Friday the 22nd? In case you are wondering why I was listening to that great New Orleans blues player in 1971, I must point out that, at the time, he was living in a council house at the bottom of Ovenden Way in Halifax. He would often claim that he came to Halifax by accident when his luggage and possessions were sent to Halifax, Yorkshire by mistake instead of Halifax NS where he was supposed to be doing a gig. Whatever the reason, he remained with us for about ten years and provided a generation of Yorkshire people with a unique insight into the music of the deep south.

Another advert from that 1971 diary advises us to "consult Pratt Burnerd for all problems of workholding and chucking". Now I strongly suspect that both "workholding" and "chucking" are something to do with machines or engineering or something oily and noisy like that (I say this in order to stop my brother writing in to point such things out and yet again highlight my ignorance of all things practical, wholesome and constructive). 

The diary dates from my time at University and I see on the 3rd of February I was introducing a seminar on the subject "what is the working class?" Whatever I may have said it was, it still existed in the Calder Valley. It made chucks and lathes, it wove rugs and covers, it brewed beer and it made toffees. 40 years later there is little industry left. There are call centres and offices where the machines used to be and there are supermarkets and retail parks where the mills once reigned supreme.

But I need to avoid becoming maudlin or I will never progress in my excavations. Time for a pint of Pennine Bitter and some Champion Jack Dupree.

Excavations Up My Back Passage - An Introduction

I developed a pronounced desire to de-clutter whilst I was away on holiday, to such an extent that one of my first actions on returning home was to order a large skip. Perhaps it is a response to living in a small ship's cabin surrounded by only those objects I could fit into a suitcase, perhaps I have lost patience with a house that is almost bursting at the seams with the detritus of modern living. Whatever the reason, I am anxious to start a new phase in my life: a leaner, cleaner, meaner phase. Where better to start than with the small passage that runs down the side of the house where the roof plunges down towards ground level like Icarus with melted wings. This back passage can only be navigated by adopting a strange, Quasimodo-like gait, and therefore has become a dumping ground for all those things one no longer uses or needs but can't bring oneself to throw away. However, there is a tide in the affairs of man which taken at the flood leads on to a de-cluttered house. That tide is now. 

Before going away on holiday I set my digital TV recorder to record an episode of the archaeological programme Time Team (for those who don't know it, each episode features a group of enthusiastic experts digging up an old Roman villa or Anglo-Saxon long-house, or such like). Unfortunately I must have pressed the wrong button for I have now discovered the hard  disk contains 47 hour long episodes (they are constantly repeating various series on a variety of digital channels). Not liking waste, I am determined to sit through all 47 hours of excavations rather than just press the delete button, and this has engendered an enthusiasm for all things archaeological. The discipline of carefully removing layer after layer and painstakingly recording finds, however seemingly insignificant, has become part of my very nature, and it is a discipline I intent to make full use of over the coming weeks.

We are therefore proud to announce that the summer season here at News From Nowhere will feature a new twice-weekly series which has been provisionally titled "Excavations Up My Back Passage". The first episode will appear tomorrow : I bet you can hardly wait.

Digital Victualling

We are back although it will take a day or two until I can settle back into any kind of routine. The holiday was a splendid smörgåsbord of food, drink, relaxation, sun, sea and more drink. One thing missing from the feast was a decent Internet link and therefore I had to try and get used to life off-line and this wasn't easy at all : "I have seen the past and it sucks", as someone might have said. I am therefore in the process of digital victualling. I am proud to say that I have just Googled "digital victualling" only to discover not one single hit: I can therefore claim to have invented the phrase, which I will define as follows:

DIGITAL VICTUALLING : The process of restocking and resupplying digital information flows following a period of prolonged off-line activity in order to provide sustenance to the digital traveler.

Whilst I rediscover what has been happening in the world and what all my blogging friends have been up to I will feature one or two of the pictures I took whilst I was away, Today's was taken in Gibraltar and shows, appropriately enough, the wonderfully ancient street sign for Victualling Office Lane.

Goings And Comings And Goings

GOINGS

The last couple of weeks seem to have been taken up with little else than preparing Alexander for his two month trip to Africa. He is one of a party of four Medical Students going to work at a rural hospital on the island of Ukerewe in the middle of Lake Victoria in Tanzania. Earlier this week we eventually saw Alexander - along with girlfriend and fellow Medic, Heather - off on the start of their journey. He leaves behind him a massive gap in our hearts and lives - along with a pile of dirty washing, and enough cardboard boxes of books and other possessions to fill half our house. Last night we had a phone call from him to say that he has arrived on the island safety. 

COMINGS

Yesterday I got another opportunity to meet a fellow blogger when Mike Brubaker - the author of the superb blog temposenzatempo - called in for tea. Mike and his wife, who live in North Carolina, were on a holiday in England and, I am glad to say, made a detour during their trip to call in and see me. Like all meetings with fellow- bloggers, it was a delightful occasion : a meeting of two close friends who had never met before in person, but friends who had already shared so many ideas, interests and experiences together. And, I must say, the theory outlined in my last blog post that I have yet to meet a fellow blogger who isn't as delightful and fascinating as I imaged him or her to be, still holds true.

GOINGS

As you will no doubt know, the European economy is going through a difficult patch at the moment with economic and political crises lining up to challenge almost every European country. I have therefore agreed to set aside my retirement and undertake a fact-finding mission throughout the Mediterranean lands. My busy schedule will take in visits to Spain, Greece, Italy and Croatia and I will be hoping to discuss the on-going crisis with ordinary citizens in a selection of bars and tavernas throughout the various lands. I have managed to hire a cabin on board a tramp steamer (illustrated) which will transport me from meeting to meeting. Not only will this be a burdensome affair, it will also mean that I will be absent from my normal blogging activities for the next month. I will report the findings of my mission on my return.

We don't set off until next week but I will make this my last News from Nowhere post until I return. Hopefully this will give me time before I go to visit all of my favourite blogs, as I have neglected these over recent weeks what with all these comings and goings. See you all soon.

A Grand Gathering In Robert's Park

Like many of you reading this, I have dedicated quite a bit of time over recent years to blogging. It is a pastime which has given me a great amount of pleasure and satisfaction, but it is also a pastime I have difficulty explaining to many non-blogging friends. However, put me in a room with another blogger and I am instantly at home, instantly sharing ideas and memories with an old friend, instantly at ease. I have a theory which states that bloggers - or at least the kind of bloggers I hang around with (which by definition includes you) - are all of a certain personality type and when they meet for real they are guaranteed to get along. Earlier this year Isobel and I went to Lanzarote and there met fellow blogger Marilyn Brindley (Little Nell) and her husband. Not only did we seal a firm friendship, they also extended to us such wonderful hospitality which made our stay on their island a memorable one. 

A couple of weeks ago I got the chance to offer my own bloggers' hospitality when one of my very favourite bloggers - Christine H of The Daily Postcard - was visiting England along with her husband. They stayed with us over a weekend and I tried to put together a programme of visits which included a number of local West Yorkshire sites. Given their interest in architecture and town planning, a visit to Saltaire was an essential ingredient for the weekend, and so I thought I would ask another of my favourite bloggers - Saltaire resident Jennyfreckles of Salt and Light - to show us around. Although Jenny and I have undertaken joint blog projects before, we had never actually met and therefore this would be a fine opportunity to test out my theory.

The theory proved right. Anyone who observed the three of us sat together in the Half Moon Cafe in Saltaire would, I am sure, have bet a fortune on the fact that we were old friends who had known each other for years. And in many ways they would be right, we knew each others ideas, interests and thoughts and we shared a long and fascinating list of mutual friends who none of us had ever actually met. This is the strange, fascinating, unifying, and stimulating world of blogging, a world we all share, a world we all derive great pleasure from.

We decided to celebrate the meeting by publishing the same photograph on our three blogs. It shows the three of us - along with a bronze Llama!, It might appear that there is a big empty cricket field behind us, but look again, look closely. It is full of the virtual images of all our mutual blog friends from every country of every continent throughout the world. You were all with us that day - and I have to say that I have still not met a blogger who I didn't get along with like an old friend.

Sepia Saturday 128 : Uncle Harry

Our Sepia Saturday prompt this week features some sheet music - "I Can't Get Enough Of Your Love" by Sophie Tucker to be precise. We didn't have many musicians in the family so when I think of sheet music I think of Uncle Harry. He was a semi-professional pub and club pianist and he had a fine collection of sheet music. As a child, I would lift the lid of his piano stool and leaf through the colourful folios. I suspect he would have had something by Sophie Tucker in his collection, her songs were always popular in the Working Men's Clubs of the North in the fifties and sixties. The prompt really demands some sepia lyrics to go with the sepia photograph of Harry. So here are a couple of extracts from Noël Coward's wonderful song, Uncle Harry.

UNCLE HARRY
We all of us have relations,
Our crosses in life we bear,
A gloomy group of uncles, cousins and aunts.
We meet them in railway stations,
In Harrods, or Chester Square,
And always on the Channel boat to France.
We have to be polite to them,
They sometimes send us pheasants.
We always have to write to them
To thank for Christmas presents.
These family obligations
Admittedly are a bore
But I possess one uncle that I positively adore.

Poor Uncle Harry
Wanted to be a missionary
So he took a ship and sailed away.
This visionary,
Hotly pursued by dear Aunt Mary,
Found a South Sea Isle on which to stay.
The natives greeted them kindly and invited them to dine
On yams and clams and human hams and vintage coconut wine,
The taste of which was filthy, but the after-effects divine.

Poor Uncle Harry
Got a bit gay and longed to tarry.
This, Aunt Mary couldn't quite allow.
She lectured him severely on a number of church affairs
But when she'd gone to bed he made a getaway down the stairs,
For he longed to find the answer to a few of the maiden's prayers.
Uncle Harry's not a missionary now.

Poor Uncle Harry
After a chat with dear Aunt Mary
Thought the time had come to make a row.
He lined up all the older girls in one of the local sheds
And while he was reviling them, and tearing himself to shreds
They took their Mother Hubbards off and tied them around their heads.
Uncle Harry's not a missionary now.
He's awfully happy
But he's certainly not a missionary now!

With the tune still ringing in your ears, why not wander over to the Sepia Saturday Blog and take a look at the other music on offer.