A Yorkshire Almanac Comprising 366 Historical Extracts, Red-letter Days and Customs, and Astronomical and Meteorological Data
Clifford Allbutt’s beloved Dewsbury Beck draining into the Calder from beneath Longcauseway nowadays (Google Maps 2023).
Humphry Davy Rolleston. 1929. The Right Honourable Sir Thomas Clifford Allbutt. London: Macmillan. Get it:
.He recalled his childish recollections of the village of Dewsbury with a beautiful little beck running through it past the vicarage gardens, where there were some stepping-stones to the parish clerk’s dairy-farm on the other side, and so ran on to join the river Calder, where there was a pretty little strand of silver sand and shells. He then went on: “When I came back again some time later for my school holidays, the first thing I did was to run down to the little strand where we used to play, and I was very sad to see the dirty slime on the silver sand and dyes and soaps and all other foul things swimming down what was our pure rural river Calder. And from that time, by leaps and bounds, Dewsbury has grown, as this church has grown, from small beginnings into a great and populous and wealthy town – and I had almost said city. It is not for me to say what my father’s part in that growth was, but he had the presence of God’s spirit within him, and he was one of the practical saints.”
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:
All Saints, Dewsbury in Allbutt’s early-ish years, with the footbridge over Dewsbury Beck to Bridge End:
All and any saints are now subject to the car:
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Long after, when preaching the evening sermon in Dewsbury Parish Church on November 7, 1920, he recalled his childish recollections of the village of Dewsbury with a beautiful little beck running through it past the vicarage gardens, where there were some stepping-stones to the parish clerk’s dairy-farm on the other side, and so ran on to join the river Calder, where there was a pretty little strand of silver sand and shells. He then went on: “When I came back again some time later for my school holidays, the first thing I did was to run down to the little strand where we used to play, and I was very sad to see the dirty slime on the silver sand and dyes and soaps and all other foul things swimming down what was our pure rural river Calder. And from that time, by leaps and bounds, Dewsbury has grown, as this church has grown, from small beginnings into a great and populous and wealthy town – and I had almost said city. It is not for me to say what my father’s part in that growth was, but he had the presence of God’s spirit within him, and he was one of the practical saints.”
207 words.
The Headingley Gallimaufrians: a choir of the weird and wonderful.
Music from and about Yorkshire by Leeds's Singing Organ-Grinder.