THE SIGNAL FOR THE START

was given. There was a tremendous cannonading, which would be heard for some distance. Then there were movements by the cavalry soldiers, who, in their charges, trampled down hedges, corn and, in truth, everything that came in their way. This did really seem to me a ruthless and unjustifiable proceeding. The manuvres concluded with volley-firing by the respective companies of the various regiments. General McDonald gave the Keighley Volunteers great praise for their efficiency in volley-firing. The sham fight lasted over three hours, and was witnessed with apparent interest by the King of Belgium and his staff. At the conclusion, each regiment went in its own direction. The Keighley contingent returned to the Surrey barracks, arriving about 10 o'clock at night. We found a grand banquet awaiting us, and this, I need scarcely say, was very welcome after a truly hard day's work. The repast was succeeded by an entertainment, at which there were vocal and instrumental music, and readings and recitations, by several of the Keighley representatives and the Surrey officers. Captain Irving gave readings in the c.o.c.kney dialect, which immensely amused the Yorkshiremen. The Haworth Drill-sergeant recited "c.o.c.khill Moor Snake," and Bill o' th' Hoylus End gave "Jack o' th' Syke Hill" and "Come, nivver dee i' thi sh.e.l.l, owd lad,"-the latter of which our townsman, Squire Leach, publicly recited on his marriage day, and a few verses of which I am tempted to introduce here:-

"Come, nivver dee i' thi sh.e.l.l, owd lad,"

Are words but rudely said, Tho' they may cheer some stricken heart, Or raise some wretched head; For they are words ah love, They're music to mi ear; They muster up fresh energy To chase each doubt an' fear.

Nivver dee i' thi sh.e.l.l, owd lad, Tho' some may laugh an' scorn; Ther' wor nivver a neet afore ta neet But what ther come a morn.

An' if blind fortune's used thee bad, Sho's happen noan so meean; To morn'll come, an' then for some T' sun'll shine ageean.

Nivver dee i' thi sh.e.l.l, owd lad, But let thi motto be- "Onward!" an' "Excelsior!"

An' try for t' top o' t' tree; An' if thy enemies still pursue (Which ten ta one they will), Show 'em, owd lad, thou'rt doing weel, An' climbin' up the hill.

Very pleasant hours were those spent with the Surrey Volunteers that night in spite of our tired and wearied condition. Next day we returned to Keighley, only to find that after our week's absence the town had not altered very much!

A VOLUNTEER DRAMATIC SOCIETY

We had found the Surrey Volunteers possessed a very good dramatic cla.s.s and a pretty little theatre in the barracks. This led to the formation of a similar organisation at Keighley, and among the members of the society were Sergeant Atty, Private Thomas Ackroyd, Corporal Colley, Sergeant William Brown, Private John Walton, Sergeant Roddy, and Corporal Wright (_alias_ Bill o' th' Hoylus End). We got a stage erected in the Drill Hall, and purchased a drop-scene (in the centre of which was worked in silk a representation of the coat of arms of the Cavendish family), and all the necessary accessories. This was all done "on strap." For our first performance we gave the comedy "Time tries all," and there was a large and influential gathering, including Mr Birkbeck, banker, of Settle, and party. Mr Birkbeck afterwards invited the society to repeat the performance at his residence. The proceeds of our first entertainment were 14, and performances on two other nights brought the sum up to 40.

It was not long before we had raised 80 and this was sufficient to discharge all expenses incurred in erecting and fitting up the stage, purchasing costumes, &c. The society continued to prosper. Military plays were generally chosen for representation, such as "The Roll of the drum"

and "The Deserter." At last, certain difficulties arose which sealed the doom of the society, and the organisation soon dropped into decay. The stage, &c., were allowed to remain, and the hall was let to travelling theatricals and other companies. The dramatic society and the reviews which the Volunteers occasionally attended at London, York, Doncaster and Liverpool all tended to make my connection with the Volunteer corps very pleasant and enjoyable; and I can truly say that in those days it was regarded a great privilege to be a Volunteer. My membership of the Keighley corps extended over fourteen years, and would not then have been severed but for my removal to Bradford. Perhaps I may wind up my Volunteering history with a few verses which I penned on the death of Captain Irving of the Surrey Volunteers:-

Gone is poor Irving, the brave Volunteer- The soldier, the man, is now on his bier; He was with you all round, as well as the ranks, Full of wit, and good humour, and frolicsome pranks.

He could mimic the c.o.c.kney at home or abroad, He could shoulder a rifle or handle a sword; His word of command would put you all right; He could talk to a stranger from morning to night.

But, alas! he is gone, and we now mourn his loss, For he's gi'en up his sword at the foot of the Cross.

And if there's an army wherever he's gone, We know that brave Irving is second to none.

CHAPTER XV

IN SEARCH OF EMPLOYMENT

During my service in the Volunteer corps, I had my ups and downs in connection with securing that employment which is necessary for one's maintenance. I gave up my work at Mr Edwin Hattersley's, warp-dresser, North Brook Mills, and took it into my head that I should like to be a policeman-a real policeman _a la _my friend, Mr James Leach. I learned that Colonel Cobb, the Chief Constable of the West Riding Constabulary, was on a visit to Mr Murgatroyd, a magistrate, at Bingley, and accordingly went over to the Throstle-nest of old England for the purpose of an interview with the Colonel. I was introduced into the Colonel's presence, and stated my errand. Colonel Cobb plied me with questions as to my former career, and when I told him I had been in the Army he wanted to know if I had any references; he particularly wanted to know whether I had risen from the ranks. I told him that I had a good "character" from the colonel of my late regiment, and also that I had worked my way up from a private's position to that of a provo-sergeant. Whereupon the old gentleman said he thought I was a very likely fellow for a policeman, and promised that if I called upon him in a few months I should in all probability be taken on. In the intervening period of waiting my mind underwent a change. I thought it would be safest to have "two strings to my bow;" so, having a hankering after a position as guard on the railway (intending, of course, to commence as a porter) I wrote to the Midland Railway Company at Derby, asking if they had a situation for me at Keighley. I got a reply inquiring for references. Then I went to my cousin, Mr James Wright, the manager for Messrs b.u.t.terfield Bros., Prospect Mill. While willing to give me a "character," my cousin strongly advised me to accept neither situation, as he felt that it would not suit me. I should, he said, want to be more at liberty than I should be in either of the positions I intended taking up. He expressed his willingness to find me employment in the mill. I went home and "discussed the out-look." The upshot was that I decided to let the police force and the railway do without me, and I commenced to work with my brothers, who, in a building in Heber-street, did warpdressing for Messrs b.u.t.terfield. I stuck to the work for a short time, and then, with the temptation of more wages, I went back to my old position at Messrs Lund's, North Beck Mills.

I remember when I was about to leave the Heber-street establishment I was much taunted by two of the foremen, who would have it that I was going to Lund's mill because Mr James Lund was about to give the employees a trip to, and a treat at, his residence, Malsis Hall. On the face of it, it did appear as though their playful accusation was correct, as the great function was to come off in a week's time.

TRIP TO MALSIS HALL

Great were the preparations that were made for the affair, which was on nearly everybody's tongue. The spinning and weaving trade was at that time in a very brisk condition, and peace and plenty appeared to reign triumphant. At last, the great day arrived:-

The day wor fine, the sun did shine, No signs o' rain to fall When t' North Beck hands, i' jovial bands, Did visit Malsis Hall.

Up by the hill o' North Beck Mill, Both owd an' young did meet; To march, I trow, i' two-by-two I' procession down the street.

An' Marriner's band, wi' music grand, Struck up wi' all ther might; Then one an' all, both great an' small, Marched on wi' great delight.

Arrived at Keighley Station, the large party took possession of a special train which was in waiting, and were safely conveyed to Crosshills.

This jovial band, when they did land, Got off the train so hearty, For they all went wi' that intent- To have a grand tea-party!

Then to the place, each smiling face, Moved on in grand succession.

The lookers-on did say, "Well done!

It is a grand procession."

The "grand procession" pa.s.sed into the park, and up to Malsis Hall. A hymn was l.u.s.tily sung, and then the people were free to ramble about the grounds to their hearts' content. Gaily-coloured flags and bunting were displayed in profusion, and with the additional charm of the "pleasing sounds of music creeping into their ears" the quondam mill-workers could well imagine themselves permitted to spend a brief interval in a very paradise. But when the time for the "real" part of the feast was come, lo and behold! there was a great disaster-

All but one sort o' bread ran short, but it wor no fault o' t' maister.

O! Caterer; thy bread an' bun An' judgement they were scanty; O! what a shame, an' what a name For not providing plenty.

O! Billy Brown thou might have known To eyt each one wor able, The country air did mak' some swear- They could ommost eyt a table!

Despite this slight "hitch," we all "made the best of it," and succeeded in enjoying ourselves until the evening, when the closure was unceremoniously applied to the proceedings by a heavy thunderstorm:-

The atmosphere's no longer clear, The clouds are black an' stormy; Then all the comp'ny away did run Like one deserting army.

Like some fast steed, wi' all its speed, All seemed as they wor flying; To escape the rain, an' catch the train Both old an' young wor trying.

The people got into the train all right, and travelled safely to Keighley:-

All satisfied wi' their short ride'

But sorry for the rain.

THE PEOPLE'S "TRIBUNE"

The above verses are included in a piece I wrote in celebration of the trip. It was about this period I began to spend a good deal of time in writing doggerel and rhyme for publication in the local press. Many of my "efforts" took the form of satires upon defaulting gentlemen-men who, I thought, should be held up to public ridicule and censure. I placed myself at the service of the people, and was always ready to show up their wrongs under my motto, "Right against Might." For my pains in that direction I was often boycotted, and occasionally brought before the magistrates. In the latter case, an indirect charge was invariably brought against me in order that certain individuals might take "revenge out of me." But I flatter myself that I had as often a friend behind me to save me from "durance vile." On one occasion I was hauled up for refusing to quit the old Crown Inn, Church Green. I had occasion to go to the place where, it seemed, there had been a row a few minutes previously; indeed, I met several men in the pa.s.sage who had taken part in the row and were being turned out. I made my way forward and took a seat in the tap-room. Before I had been seated many minutes a policeman came in and charged me with refusing to quit the public-house when ordered to do so. I endeavoured to convince "Robert" that I had not taken part in the row, and that I had never been asked to quit; but I soon found what a hopeless task I had set myself in trying to "convince a policeman against his will." On the following Friday I was hauled up before the magistrates. I defended myself as best I could, but was told by the presiding magistrate that I was nothing but an "impudent scoundrel." However, the charge against me-preferred by a policeman, and supported by no other witness-was considered proved by the Bench, who mulcted me in a fine of 10s and costs. Greatly incensed at the verdict, but more especially at the manner in which the chairman of the Bench had "sat upon" me, I resolved to take a course of action at the expense of the gentleman mentioned. So the same afternoon, still smarting under a sense of having been unfairly dealt with, I set to work with my pen, and wrote a satire on the magistrate who took the most prominent part in dealing with my case. By the dinner hour on the following day (Sat.u.r.day) I was in the market-place selling copies of the satire. People bought with avidity, and before Sat.u.r.day went out I had disposed of a thousand copies at a penny each; which returns enabled me to pay the fine and then make profit out of my prosecution.

THE HENPECKED CLUB AND THE KEIGHLEY SHOW

My next effusion was partly in verse and partly in prose, and was ent.i.tled, "The Rules and Regulations of the Henpecked Club." This club was connected with the Agricultural Society's Show, and made its existence felt on the Show Day only. At the time of which I write, the Keighley Agricultural Show was about one of the finest shows in the country. The townspeople, then, took some pride in their show. The public thoroughfare from Church Green along Skipton-road to the Showfield was decorated in a gorgeous fashion. Flags, streamers, and bunting, with scores of appropriate mottoes and devices, were numerously in evidence, and trees were planted on each side of the road and decked with all sorts of fairy lamps. Yes; those were the good old days of the Keighley Show; thousands of people flocked from all parts of a not very limited area to attend the annual event. But the princ.i.p.al thoroughfares of the town were not the only places which received attention at the hands of the decorators, for the residents of such places as the Pinfold went in for their own particular local celebration of the Show Day. On one occasion I saw a stuffed donkey with a dummy rider on its back, swinging on a rope opposite the Bay Horse Inn. The donkey, which was the source of intense delight to the younger section of the populace, was the property of one Harry Barwick, a tanner by trade. Not far from here-in old Bridge-street, now known as Mill-street-was to be seen a large picture, containing the portraits, rudely executed by myself as artist to the club, of some forty members of the Henpecked Club. The spectacle was of the most laughable description. There was also displayed a gigantic cradle, large enough to hold the biggest person in the world in case of emergency. The cradle was supposed to be used on the occasion of a member of the club being found guilty of ill-treating his wife. The cradle was made by a practical wag, known as Billy Bradley, who attended to it every Show Day. When there was a clean sheet of actual offenders, Bradley contented himself with "rocking" men who volunteered just for the fun of the thing. Finish was imparted to the performance by a fiddler, named Smith Keighley, playing "Rock'd in the cradle of the deep" during the operation. Many were the visitors who came to see the stirrings in this corner of the town. I remember the late Mr John Sugden, of Eastwood House, coming up in his carriage to see the fun and frolic, which were practically the sole objects of the Henpecked Club. On one occasion there was exhibited a picture, almost as large as a stage scene, representing a trial in the Henpecked Club,-a wife charging her spouse, before the President, with neglect of family duty. The counts of the charge were supposed to be-refusing to wash-up, black-lead, clean his wife's boots, put the clothes-line out, and last, but not least, refusing to take his wife her breakfast upstairs. I recollect one remarkable and unrehea.r.s.ed incident which happened in connection with the club on one Show Day. A man of the name of Shackleton had joined the club, and his wife was so disgusted that she was almost "wild." Before the scores of people who had a.s.sembled she protested "Ahr Jack isn't henpecked, an' ah weant hev him henpecked."

It was, she said, just the opposite-she who had been henpecked. Just as Mrs S. was concluding her harangue a waggonette drove up, and all the members of the club got into it in readiness for a drive round the town "for the benefit of the Order," as one of them amusingly put it. This Shackleton was among those who entered the conveyance, but no sooner had he taken his seat than his wife went up to him and seized him firmly by the hair of the head, exclaiming, "Come aat, er Ah'll let 'em see whether tha's henpecked er no." She stuck to her spouse with such a tight fondness that he was soon obliged to come out of the waggonette.

Shackleton took the incident quite good humouredly, and seemed to enjoy the mirth-provoking situation with as much zest as the crowd of people who were standing by. And this was a sample of the carryings-on in the days of the old Keighley Show. But, alas! there came a day of trouble to the people. In the period preceding one year's show an epidemic of small-pox broke out in the town and the show had to be abandoned.

Unfortunately that proved the deathblow of the old Agricultural Society.