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A Yorkshire Almanac Comprising 366 Historical Extracts, Red-letter Days and Customs, and Astronomical and Meteorological Data

21 September 1874: Amidst urban railway tourists, the young of Nidderdale and Wharfedale celebrate Craven Lass’s victory in the Pateley Bridge Races

Thomas Blackah. 1874. Pateley Reeaces 1874. T’ Nidderdill Olminac, an’ Ivverybody’s Kalinder, fer 1875. Pateley Bridge: Thomas Thorpe. Get it:

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Excerpt

Yung pronsy flirts, i’ drabbl’d skirts,
Like painted peeacoks stritches;
While gert shignons, like milkin’ cans,
On ther top-garrits perches.
Fat Sal fra t’ Knott, scarse gat t’a t’spot,
Afoare she’y lost her bussal,
Witch sad mishap, quite spoil’d her shap,
An’ meeade her itch an’ hussal.

Lile pugnoase’d Nell, fra Kettlewell,
Com in her Dolly Vardin,
All frill’d an’ starcht, she’y proodly march’d
Wi’ squintin Joe fra’ Bardin.
Tha’re cuffs an’ falls, tunics an’ shawls,
An’ fancy pollaneeses,
All sham displays, ower tatter’d stays,
An’ hard worn rag’d shimeeses.

Tha’re mushrum fops, fra’ fields an’ shops,
Fine sigeretts wer sookin,
An’ lots o’ yooths, wi’ beardless mooths,
All kinds o’ pipes wer smookin.
An’ wen at last, the spoorts wer past,
All heeameward turn’d ther feeaces;
Ta ne’er relent, ‘at e’er the’ spent
A da’ wi’ PATELEY REEACES.

To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.

Abbreviations:

  • ER: East Riding
  • GM: Greater Manchester
  • NR: North Riding
  • NY: North Yorkshire
  • SY: South Yorkshire
  • WR: West Riding
  • WY: West Yorkshire

Comment

Comment

Although a brief search didn’t throw up the date for 1874, other mentions in the period suggest that the Pateley races were held on the penultimate Monday of September – the 21st in 1874 – and in corroboration the first (rugby) football match in Nidderdale was held on this day at Pateley Bridge between Harrogate and Pateley and district. Re the 1877 feast:

The weather was fine, and though threatening clouds hung about during the morning, the country people turned out in strong force. There was a large contingent of pleasure seekers from Harrogate and other towns within easy reach of Pateley Bridge, which is approached by a single line from Harrogate, and the trains were crowded to excess. Hence the one narrow street which gives the appellation of Town to Pateley Bridge was thronged long before the sports were to commence, but the people who flocked in from the surrounding villages found plenty of amusement. Bands of music paraded the town, and an itinerant nigger band excited the greatest admiration of their rural audience. The races, which were the chief item in the afternoon’s programme, were held in a field on the side of the river Nidd, and close to the town, and there was a very large company present. The entries for the various events were larger than on any previous occasion. Each event was run in heats, and though the proceedings can hardly be dignified by the name of sport, yet the contests produced much amusement. There were several gentlemen who might by way of compliment be called bookmakers present, but their offers were of the most illiberal description. The betting is, of course, not quotable, though there was a good deal of wagering for small money on the various races.
(York Herald 1877/09/25)

In 1863 a connecting train from Leeds to Pateley Bridge via Harrogate cost 5s. return 1st class or 2s. in covered carriages.

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Original

PATELEY REEACES.
1874.

Attenshun all, baith grate an’ small,
An’ dooant screw up yer feeaces;
While I rehearse, i’ simple verse,
A’ coont o’ Pateley Reeaces.
Fra all ower t’ mooers, they com be’y scoaires,
Girt skelpin lads an’ lasses;
An’ cats an’ dogs, an’ coos an’ hogs,
An’ horses, mules, an’ asses.

Oade foaks wer thar, fra near an’ far,
At cuddant farely hopple;
An’ laffin brats, as wild as cats,
Ower heeads an’ heels did topple.
The Darley lads, arrived i’ squads,
Wi’ smiles all ower ther feeaces,
An’ Hartwith yooths, wi’ screw’d up mooths,
In wonder watch’d the reeaces.

Fra Menwith Hill, and Folly Gill,
Thornfat, an’ Deacre Paster,
Fra Thruscross Green, an’ t’ Heets wer seen,
Croods cumin, thick an’ faster.
‘Tween Bardin Brig, an’ Threshfield Rig,
Oade Wharfedeale gat a thinnin;
An’ Gerston plods, laid hevvy odds,
On Creaven Lass fer winnin.

Sitch lots wer seen, o’ Hebdin Green,
Ready sean on i’ t’ mornin,
While Aptrick chaps, i’ carts an’ traps,
Wer off ta Pateley spernin.
All Greenho’ Hill, past Coadstanes kill,
Com taltherin an’ singin,
Harcasle coves, like sheep i’ droves,
Oade Pahmer Simp wer bringin.

Baith short an’ tall, past Gowthit Hall,
T’ up dealers kept on steerin,
Fer ne’er befoare, roond Middlesmoor
Had thar been sitch a cleerin.
All kinds an’ soarts, o’ games an’ sports,
Had Pateley chaps provided,
An weel did t’ few, ther bizness dew
‘At ower ’em all persidid.

‘T’wad tak a swell, a munth ta tell,
All t’ins an’ t’ hoots o’ t’ reeaces,
Hoo far the’ ran, witch horses wan,
An’ witch wer back’d fer plaices.
Oade Billy Broon, lost hofe-a-croon
Wi’ Taty-Hawker backin,
Fer Green Crag flew, ower t’ hurdles trew,
An’ wan t’ match like a stockin.

An’ Creavan Lass, won lots o’ brass,
Besides delitein t’ Brockils,
An’ Eva danc’d, an’ rear’d an’ pranc’d;
As giff she stood o’ Cockals.
But t’ donkey reeace, wer star o’ t’ plaice,
Fer oade an’ yung observers,
‘Twad meeade a nun, fra t’ convent run
An’ near agane bi nervous.

Tom Hemp fra t’ Stean, cried hoot “weel dean,”
An’ t’wife began o’ chaffin;
Wal Kirby Jack, stak up his back,
An’ nearly brast wi’ laffin.
Sly Wilsill Bin, fra een ta chin,
Wer plaister’d up wi’ toffy,
An’ lang-leg’d Jane, he browt fra t’ Plain,
Full bent on winnin t’ coffee.

Yung pronsy flirts, i’ drabbl’d skirts,
Like painted peeacoks stritches;
While gert shignons, like milkin’ cans,
On ther top-garrits perches.
Fat Sal fra t’ Knott, scarse gat t’a t’spot,
Afoare she’y lost her bussal,
Witch sad mishap, quite spoil’d her shap,
An’ meeade her itch an’ hussal.

Lile pugnoase’d Nell, fra Kettlewell,
Com in her Dolly Vardin,
All frill’d an’ starcht, she’y proodly march’d
Wi’ squintin Joe fra’ Bardin.
Tha’re cuffs an’ falls, tunics an’ shawls,
An’ fancy pollaneeses,
All sham displays, ower tatter’d stays,
An’ hard worn rag’d shimeeses.

Tha’re mushrum fops, fra’ fields an’ shops,
Fine sigeretts wer sookin,
An’ lots o’ yooths, wi’ beardless mooths,
All kinds o’ pipes wer smookin.
An’ wen at last, the spoorts wer past,
All heeameward turn’d ther feeaces;
Ta ne’er relent, ‘at e’er the’ spent
A da’ wi’ PATELEY REEACES.

666 words.

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