The James North Clock, Hyde, Cheshire

James Drive, close to where James North's clock now stands:

'The clock opposite was taken from James North factory,

originally named Slack Mills.

The James North factory was the largest producer of

industrial protective equipment in the world. They patented

the PVC glove in 1947.

The factory buildings were demolished in November 1998.

The original clock dials, hands, bevels and dial motion-work

have been restored and fitted into the new clocktower

enclosure, which was erected in 2006.'

On 7 May 2005, MEN (Manchester Evening News) makes a comment on James North's business: 'The family concern - which began as a chamois leather dressing firm in Colne in 1868 - moved to Hyde in 1876. It started life in a disused stable in Robert Street but soon expansion into the glove making industry prompted an amalgamation with the Colne concern and they moved to bigger premises in Godley Mills.

Such was their good name they were commissioned to make gauntlet gloves for Sir Ernest Shackleton's great Antarctic expedition.'

Aggressive Looking Magpie, Hyde, Greater Manchester

 

I come face to face with an aggressive looking magpie in Hyde. He's cute too, but he doesn't seem to like being stared at. Probably camera shy. OK, this isn't France, but it's the best I can do at the moment.

Samuel Scott Sudlow (1865–1951), Artist, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

I last mentioned Samuel Scott Sudlow in April 2015, although it wasn't until a few days ago that Stewart Sudlow, Samuel's grandson, contacted me with these photos of paintings by his grandfather. I have copied the contents of the original post below, thank Stewart for sending me these, and look forward to receiving more, which shall be added to this post. These are Stewart's recollections of his grandfather:

"As a young boy together with sister and younger brother, every Sunday our parents took us to Belmore where my grandparents lived for Sunday dinner, sometimes when we arrived my grandfather would be in the front garden doing some weeding in a collar and tie and waistcoat, you can’t take England out of an Englishman. There was sign by the front door, saying Delamere, which in later years I learned that it referred to Delamere forest. My brother had it on his house in Tasmania.

My grandmother would be in kitchen, and more often than not we would find my grandfather in his studio at the end of the shed. There would be my grandfather seated in a lounge chair in front of his easel painting. He was also a carpenter and joiner by trade. He made all of their furniture. Now and again he also played the piano.

I recall racks against the wall where he stored his finished paintings. I do remember a painting of a dog probably a neighbour dog. I was 12 when my grandfather died I don’t Know what happened to most of the paintings, but I know my grandmother got rid of all his oils,  watercolours and brushes. I think she was annoyed that he spent more time in his studio than in the house. That’s about all I can remember of my grandfather."

'Across the Park Early Morning 1950.'

 

'Cloud Effect, Cronulla NSW.' My original post on Sudlow:

In Poets, Poems, and Rhymes of East Cheshire (1908) Thomas Middleton devotes a few pages to the forgotten Samuel Scott Sudlow (1865–1951), who was born in Delamere Forest near Frodsham in the west of Cheshire, and moved to Hyde (probably with his parents) in 1881. His father was simply named Samuel Sudlow (1838–1914), who is the first named person on the grave here, followed by his mother Fanny (c. 1840–1920).

As the sentence states above in Hyde Cemetery, 'ALSO SAMUEL S[COTT], THEIR SON, DIED IN AUSTRALIA, SEP. 17^TH. 1951, AGED 86 YEARS.' Middleton says that Sudlow hadn't published much, although he prints his 'To the Blue Bell' in full and says that it will 'take a high place in local verse'. At the time that Middleton published his book Samuel Scott Sudlow was about 43 and had yet to leave Hyde for Australia, although he appears to have published nothing at all there. But he was obviously a little more successful in another field.

Samuel Scott Sudlow was a joiner by trade, although Middleton speaks more of Sudlow's artistic education and of his local fame as a portrait and landscape artist. He says '[h]is work is highly spoken of by those competent to judge, and he is one of the few local men who have been successful as a portrait painter'.

And interestingly, a little Googling tells me that 'S Scott Sudlow' was several times one of the finalists for painting prizes in Australia, including one called Self Portrait.

The Grave of the Poet James Leigh, Gee Cross, Hyde

Detail from a photo taken by James Leigh's friend Frederick Higham.

So the Potter grave isn't the only one of literary interest here. This is the grave of James Leigh in the graveyard at Hyde Chapel, Gee Cross, Hyde.

'IN EVER-LOVING MEMORY OF

JAMES LEIGH

OF HYDE, AUTHOR OF "GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE",

AND OTHER POEMS, WHO CROSSED THE BAR

NOV^R 21^ST 1918. AGED 64 YEARS.

ALSO ALICE ANN WIFE OF THE

ABOVE, WHO DIED JUNE 4^TH 1938, AGED 83 YEARS.'

'"THE DARKEST NIGHT DOTH OFT PRECEDE
THE BLESSED DAWNING OF A GLORIOUS DAY.
THROUGH DEATH'S DARK VALE, THE RIGHTEOUS SOUL DOTH LEAD
TO REALMS OF LIGHT AND LIFE AND IMMORTALITY."

JAMES LEIGH.'

Gleams of Sunshine (from which the above lines are taken) is preceded by several introductions, one of which is by Thomas Middleton, of which this is a small part:

'James Leigh was born in 1854, at Walker Fold, Hyde, in an old picturesque homestead which his father had occupied as a farmer for over fifty years. He came of a family which farmed land on Werneth Low, and in Ewen Fields, Hyde, for upwards of two centuries. At the early age of eight years he went to work half-time as a piecer at "Randal Hibbert's Factory," Godley, and when he had attained the age of ten years he left school entirely. With the exception of an interval of six years, during which he worked as a mason, he continued to act as a cotton operative working at Slack Mills, Hyde, until the year 1896, when he finally left the mill and commenced a grocery business in Ridling Lane, Hyde.

From the above brief sketch it will be seen that James Leigh's life has been of the practical rather than the romantic order ; it has been spent in a district that is more famous for the number of its mill chimneys than for the possession of those attributes that are supposed to give poetical inspiration. Environment was certainly against him, and considering the early age at which he was compelled to leave school, and the necessarily small amount of education he received, it cannot be said that the task of writing verse was rendered easy in his case. It is indeed surprising to find him figuring in the role of a Lancashire rhymster as far back as the year 1868. He was still a piecer in the mill, and only fourteen years of age when his first poem appeared in the columns of the "Ashton Reporter." Since that time, however, he has continued to publish verse, and is well-known as a contributor to the local press, and to other largely read Lancashire journals. His pieces form a lengthy list, and a selection of a few titles may suitably be given. It should be added that Leigh has frequently devoted his powers to the production of election verse, which although exhibiting rare veins of humour is the wrong sort of matter to enhance his poetic fame. Politics are best avoided by bards of all ranks and classes, and Leigh's electoral effusions are left out of the collected edition of his works. Of his more serious writings a few titles are appended ; it will be noticed that some of them make reference to well- known events of local importance, "Hyde Town Hall Clock and Bells," "Kingston For Ever," "On the death of the Rev. R. K. Bateson," "New Year's Eve," "Spring/' "Jamie o' Dicks," "Christmas Time," "Cowd Winter," " The Village Parson," "Werneth Low," "The Seasons," "Pleasant Walks with Old Companions," "Rambles Round Mottram," etc.

A link to the whole book is here.

Robert Higham in Hyde, Greater Manchester

'In

Ever-Loving

Memory of

Robert Higham, J.P.

of Windsor Bank, Hyde,

Editor and joint proprietor

of the

North Cheshire Herald,

for upwards of 40 years,

who died Feb^r. 17^th 1905,

aged 66 years.'

 

Strange how I missed this in Hyde Cemetery the first time round. Many local writers were published in the North Cheshire Herald, which for a large number of them was a literary launching pad leading to individual publications. George Booth's side of the monument is here.

Samuel Scott Sudlow, Hyde, Greater Manchester

In Poets, Poems, and Rhymes of East Cheshire (1908) Thomas Middleton devotes a few pages to the forgotten Samuel Scott Sudlow (1865–1951), who was born in Delamere Forest near Frodsham in the west of Cheshire, and moved to Hyde (probably with his parents) in 1881. His father was simply named Samuel Sudlow (1838–1914), who is the first named person on the grave here, followed by his mother Fanny (c. 1840–1920).

As the sentence states above in Hyde Cemetery, 'ALSO SAMUEL S[COTT], THEIR SON, DIED IN AUSTRALIA, SEP. 17^TH. 1951, AGED 86 YEARS.' Middleton says that Sudlow hadn't published much, although he prints his 'To the Blue Bell' in full and says that it will 'take a high place in local verse'. At the time that Middleton published his book Samuel Scott Sudlow was about 43 and had yet to leave Hyde for Australia, although he appears to have published nothing at all there. But he was obviously a little more successful in another field.

Samuel Scott Sudlow was a joiner by trade, although Middleton speaks more of Sudlow's artistic education and of his local fame as a portrait and landscape artist. He says '[h]is work is highly spoken of by those competent to judge, and he is one of the few local men who have been successful as a portrait painter'.

And interestingly, a little Googling tells me that 'S Scott Sudlow' was several times one of the finalists for painting prizes in Australia, including one called Self Portrait, but – frustratingly – I can't find any of his paintings online.

William Bedford (1811–61) in Hyde and the USA

William Bedford was an obscure working-class poet and political writer of English birth who killed himself eleven or twelve years after emigrating to America with his wife Sarah Nancy (née Wood) (1812–1892) and five children: two more were born in the USA. The truly bizarre thing about his death is that he left some writing – although not a suicide letter giving the reasons for deliberately taking a lethal dose of laudanum but notes – perhaps written over three hours, and describing exactly how the drug was affecting him from immediately after taking it until what must have been a few moments before his death. He makes no mention of his wife, but refers to his friends and children, specifically expressing his concern for the two youngest: James Rosser (1846–1942) and Thomas W. (1853–1921).

I'll return to the letter – which I'll quote in some detail – but for the moment I'll say what we know of Bedford, the large part of which comes from Thomas Middleton's Poets, Poems, and Rhymes of East Cheshire (Hyde: John Higham, 1908).

William Henry Bedford was the son of Matthew Bedford (1791–?), who was born in Clayton West, Yorkshire, and Sarah (née Rosser) (1789–1872), who was born in Stockport, Cheshire. Middleton says that their were thirteen other children in the family, and that Matthew had come to Hyde and worked at John Howard's mill. William attended the Wesleyan Sunday School and 'received the bulk of his education from there'. He was first a piecer and then a spinner at the same mill where his father worked.

From an early age William was interested in the poor conditions of the working classes. The above plaque at the entrance to the market in Hyde marks the site of The Norfolk Arms, where a disaster took place on 1 April 1829. Seven hundred cotton workers – among them William and Matthew Bedford – assembled here to discuss their employers' plans to reduce their wages during the depression in the cotton trade. The floor collapsed, causing people to fall into the cellar. Twenty-nine people were killed and many more injured, although William and Matthew escaped. The family first moved to Stockport and later Ashton-under-Lyne.

William Bedford wrote poems and – under the name 'Sam Shuttletip' – also wrote political papers on the government, the working class and communism. His own family originally appear to have been successful, and it is unknown why he took his life. Below are the parts that Middleton publishes of the remarkable letter that Bedford wrote as he was dying during a walk near the Hudson River:

'August 10, 1861.

I have just swallowed the laudanum in a small quantity of brandy; do not feel much effect from it yet, except a bitterness in my mouth and throat, and a little trembling in my hands. [...] 15 minutes since I took the laudanum; the effects feel exhilarating, like those of intoxicating drinks. No pain, and the scenery of the Hudson River [...] grand and glorious, my heart aches, and my eyes weep for my friends and children, especially for my boys James and Thomas, but I hope they will not grieve much at my lot, and that they will try to be good boys. [...] Quarter of an hour later, I feel a bitterness and dryness in my throat, and a tendency to lay down and go to sleep, but I shall resist it as long as I can. [...] quarter later. [...] I am trying to read a paper called the "Phunny Fellow," but my ideas begin to get confused, as they have done many a time before, when I have fallen asleep reading. [...] Two hours since I took the dose, I feel more confused in mind every minute, [...] but it don't feel unpleasant.– It must be a quarter of an hour later, and I had just fallen to sleep, and have waked again, [...] I have tried walking about, but it is no use,– cannot keep awake, and feel a trembling all over. [...] Cannot calculate the time, think it must be three hours since I took it. Feel a little inclined to vomit, but hope I shall not do so, have walked about a little, and the sickness is nearly gone away, but my limbs tremble considerably–I have lain down awhile–don't know how long–and have dreamed as usual about the dear friends at home; very sleepy indeed, and my mouth and throat dry–end.'

Edmund Potter in Dinting, Glossop, Derbyshire

'EDMUND POTTER

DL, FRS, MP, JP

1802–1883

MILLOWNER, PHILANTHROPIST

FOUNDED DINTING VALE

PRINTWORKS IN 1824 AND

LIVED NEAR

THIS SITE AT

DINTING LODGE

1842–1861'

This plaque was unveiled on 6 September 2014 and Dinting Lodge no longer exists. Edmund Potter was born in Ardwick, Manchester, and was the paternal grandfather of the children's writer, illustrator and conservationist Beatrix Potter (1866–1943).

Edmund Potter published several short works, including Calico Printing as an Art Manufacture: A lecture (1952), A Few Pages on Taxation (1959), and Trades' Unions and Their Tendencies (1861).

Below is a link to an earlier post I made on Edmund Potter's grave in Gee Cross, Hyde, Cheshire:

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Beatrix Potter's relatives in Gee Cross

Ralph Bernard Robinson in Glossop, Derbyshire

'RALPH BERNARD ROBINSON.

DIED DECEMBER 2ND 1900,

AGED 72 YEARS.

ALSO MARGARET, HIS WIFE,

DIED DECEMBER 16TH 1905,

AGED 72 YEARS.

ALSO WALTER G. ROBINSON,

THEIR SON, DIED MAY 3RD 1896

IN HIS 4TH YEAR.'

The grave of R. B. Robinson is in the Roman Catholic section of Glossop Cemetery, and is another example of a writer mentioned by Thomas Middleton in Poets, Poems, and Rhymes of East Cheshire (1908).  Middleton regrets how little read the 'Mottram poet and historian' Robinson's short book Longdendale: Historical and Descriptive Sketches of the Two Parishes of Mottram and Glossop (1863) was, and adds that he was born in Mottram in 1829, first winning fame as a poet.

Robinson's early book Woodbines (1851) contains, reckons Middleton, 'some pretty pieces', but he seems most interested in the long and ambitious 'Melandra', which speaks of Melandra Castle and Mouselow Castle, and is 'full of interest, containing as it does much of the local Arthurian romance'.

Middleton knew Robinson towards the end of his life, when he was 'a tall old man, with dreamy eyes, and hair white as snow. [...] Mr. Robinson was brim full of anecdote. [...] Then we chatted on the scheme for the excavation of Melandra Castle, which was becoming popular about that time, and in this fashion the evening passed along. I met him often after that; he came to see me several times at Hyde, and it was with regret that I heard of his death.'

Robinson moved from Mottram to Glossop, at first working as a schoolmaster and then as a librarian at Glossop Town Hall.

John Critchley Prince and Joseph Johnston in Hyde, Cheshire

In Thomas Middleton's remarkably informative Poets, Poems, and Rhymes (1908), he gives clear directions to the grave of minor poet Joseph Johnston (1810–68) in St George's churchyard, Hyde. Unfortunately, the grave now seems to have disappeared under a children's playground. Johnston (although teetotal) was a good friend of John Critchley Prince, so I'm taking advantage of that fact to post more shots of Prince's grave, but cleaned up this time:

Now, we are able to see a much clearer picture of the grave.

'ERECTED

BY A FEW ADMIRERS

TO THE MEMORY OF

JOHN CRITCHLEY PRINCE

AUTHOR OF

HOURS WITH THE MUSES

BORN 21ST JUNE 1808

DIED 5TH MAY 1866'

Inside the large circle is a laurel wreath and the initials 'J C P'.

My John Critchley Prince posts:
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
John Critchley Prince in Harpurhey, Manchester
John Critchley Prince in Hyde
John Critchley Prince and Joseph Johnston in Hyde
The Life of John Critchley Prince (1880), by R. A. Douglas Lithgow

Hyde Colliery Explosion, 18th January 1889

'THE HYDE COLLIERY EXPLOSION
18th January 1889

This plaque is located near to the site where a
horrific gas explosion in the Hyde Lane Coal Pit
killed 23 men and seriously injured 5 more victims.

The inquest recorded that the explosion took place
at some distance from a shaft, which was known
as the "Two Foot Level", shortly after 9.00 a.m.

The verdict reported that the incident was
accidental and was caused by the use of
naked lights by the miners.

Unveiled by Councillor Joe Kitchen,
Cabinet Deputy of Lifelong Learning,
on February 21st 2001'

Related post below:

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Joseph Sidebotham and Haughton, Denton

George Booth in Hyde, Greater Manchester

In Hyde Cemetery, Stockport Road:

'In Memoriam'
GEORGE BOOTH,
OF MARKET St. HYDE,
FOUNDER OF THE
North Cheshire Herald,
WHO DIED MAR. 3rd. 1863,
AGED 46 YEARS.
ALSO MARY HIS
BELOVED WIFE
WHO DIED MAR. 26th 1850
AGED 34 YEARS.'

ADDENDUM: Robert Higham's side of the monument is here.

John Critchley Prince in Hyde, Greater Manchester

The grave of John Critchley Prince in St George's churchyard, Church Street, Hyde. The inscription is no longer easy to read.

'ERECTED BY A FEW ADMIRERS TO THE MEMORY OF JOHN CRITCHLEY PRINCE AUTHOR OF HOURS WITH THE MUSES BORN 21ST JUNE 1808 DIED 5TH MAY 1866.'  

(ADDENDUM: There are four links at the bottom of this page: click on the third one for a view of the grave after the clean-up.)

  The poet John Critchley Prince was born in poverty in Wigan, his father being a reed maker and a heavy drinker. Prince became an apprentice in his father's trade at the age of eleven.

He died in his 'lowly house' in Brook Street, Hyde and his funeral was attended by, among others, Edwin Waugh, Benjamin Brierley, Samuel Laycock and Elijah Ridings.

Below is the full chapter on Prince from Thomas Middleton's Annals of Hyde and District: Containing Historical Reminiscences of Denton, Haughton, Dukinfield, Mottram, Longdendale, Bredbury, Marple, and the Neighbouring Townships (1899):

'JOHN CRITCHLEY PRINCE

Author of Hours with the Muses

JOHN CRITCHLEY PRINCE, the Bard of Hyde, was one of a band of gifted singers and prominent literary man—self taught be it said—whose names are household words in the great industrial hive about Cottonopolis. In his day Prince was a great force in the active life of the manufacturing north, and probably no writer ever exercised a greater power over the people, or pleaded more eloquently for the emancipation of the sons of toil. Just as Burns was the bard and wonder of the farmer–folk of Ayr, so was Prince the wonder, the product, and the pride of the factory workers of Lancashire. His lays cheered them through long years of weary labour, filled them with fresh hopes and aspirations, and now when the writer has gone to rest, their melody still lingers and many weary hearts are gladdened by its sound.

Critchley Prince was born on June 21st, 1808, at Wigan, in Lancashire. He was brought up amid the greatest poverty, and was never sent to school. His education was obtained solely from his mother and from the teachers of a Sunday School. The Princes eventually settled in Hyde, where the poet married in 1826, when under 19 years of age. His income at the time was very small, and when a young family appeared, it took the united efforts of both parents to procure even a bare subsistence. Misled by glowing accounts of the prospects of artisans in France, Prince at length left his family to seek his fortune abroad. Disappointment, however, met him on the Continent; the greatest distress prevailed, and unable to obtain work, he found himself a beggar in a strange country, possessing no knowledge of the language.

In the middle of the winter of 1831 Prince left Mühlhausen  to return to Hyde. He followed the romantic wanderings of the Rhine, exploring the ruined castles and visiting the principal scenes of legendary lore. Travelling through Strasbourg, Nancy, Rheims, Chalons, and most of the principal cities, he at length arrived in Calais, having subsisted on the charity of the few English residents he had met with on the way. A passage was procured for him by the British Consul at Calais, and he at length set foot again in England.

On his return Prince first applied for food and shelter at a workhouse in Kent, and was cast into a filthy garret with 12 other unfortunates, some of whom were in a high state of fever; indeed, the dawn of the next day found his bedfellow dead. From here he proceeded with bare feet to London, begging in the daytime and sleeping in the open fields at night. A portion of his clothing he sold at "Rag Fair" for 8 pence, which treasure he spent partly in allaying the dreadful cravings of hunger, and partly in the purchase of paper and writing materials. Entering a neighbouring tavern, he wrote as much of his own poetry as the paper would contain, and that task done he went round to a number of booksellers, hoping to dispose of the manuscript for a shilling or two. But disappointment again met him, and after staying in London a short time—lying on the stones of some gateway at night, he left the metropolis and set off northward. His biographer tells us that he slept in barns, vagrant offices, under hay–stacks, in the lowest of lodging–houses; one day he ground corn at Birmingham, another he sang ballads at Leicester, the cool night wind found him sleeping under the oaks of Sherwood Forest, and finally he rested his weary limbs in the " lock–up " at Bakewell. By perseverance, however, he at length reached Hyde, only to find that his wife, unable to sustain herself and children, had been obliged to apply for parish relief, and was then in the workhouse at Wigan. Prince hurried off to that town, removed his family to Manchester, where he took a bare garret, and without furniture of any sort, with a bundle of straw for a bed, the wretched family remained several months. The Princes subsequently returned to Hyde, where a fairer fortune smiled upon them than had been the case in former years.

It was not until 1841 that Prince published his first work, "Hours with the Muses." He contributed at different times to the Manchester periodicals, and to three now defunct local magazines, "Microscope," "Phoenix," and "Companion."

The publication of " Hours with the Muses " brought Prince numbers of friends, but unfortunately he became a prey to habits of intemperance. He seems to have fallen into an unsettled state, sometimes working at his old trade of reed–making, often hanging about the country, and chiefly depending for subsistence on the profits of the five successive volumes which issued from his pen. An attempt was made to secure for him a pension, which, although fruitless as far as its main effort was concerned, won for him a grant from the Royal Bounty. He died at Hyde in 1866, and was buried in St. George's Churchyard, where a head–stone commemorating his works has been erected over his grave by a few admiring friends.

Prince's fame as a poet has been for the most part provincial, although his writings have been frequently quoted by the press in all parts of the world. His verse exhibits unmistakeable signs of genius, and is well worth perusal. la all his poetry there is a decided literary quality, which is surprising when one remembers that his surroundings were anything but encouraging to study. Another pleasing feature of his work is that it is so little touched with the spirit of the misanthrope, or hate of the moneyed class, as one might have expected from a writer who had suffered so bitterly the pangs of poverty. There is a gracefulness of expression, and a musical flow in the language, which rather indicate the well–read and educated man than the wearied, self–taught artisan. His verse is permeated with a deep reverential spirit and an inherent love of nature. This latter quality is shown forcibly in his stirring lines on Kinderscout:

Dark Kinder! standing on thy whin–clad side,
Where storm and solitude and silence dwell,
And stern sublimity hath set his throne
I looked upon a region wild and wide :
A realm of mountain, forest haunt, and fell,
And fertile valleys, beautifully lone,
Where fresh and free romantic waters roam.
Singing a song of peace by many a cottage home.
Oh! is it not religion to admire.
O God! what thou hast made in field and bower,
And solitudes from man and strife apart

To feel within the soul the awakening fire
Of pure and chastened pleasure, and the power
Of natural beauty on the tranquil heart;
And then to think that our terrestrial home
Is but a shadow still of that which is to come.

Prince gave forth in the form of verse the national aspiration after "progress, peace, and temperance," and his lyrics are among the finest that have been written on those topics. Indeed, on those questions his poems attained the force of platform power, and as such they have been, and are to day, often quoted. The poet's greatest sympathies probably lay with the efforts made toward the amelioration of the working–classes, to which he belonged, and his feelings in this direction were clearly indicated in his numerous "Lyrics for the People." One of them is well worth quoting. It is headed

"The Songs of the People."
Oh! the Songs of the People are voices of power
That echo in many a land.
They lighten the heart in the sorrowful hour
And quicken the labour of hand;
They gladden the shepherd on mountain and plain,
And the mariner tossed on the sea;
The poets have given us many a strain,
But the Songs of the People for me.

The artizan, wending full early to toil,
Sings a snatch of old song by the way;
The ploughman who sturdily furrows the soil,
Cheers the morn with the words of his lay;
The man at the smithy, the maid at the wheel.
The mother with babe on her knee.
Chant simple old rhymes, which they tenderly feel,
Oh! the Songs of the People for me.

An anthem of triumph, a ditty of love,
A carol 'gainst sorrow and care,
A hymn of the household that rises above.
In the music of hope or despair;
A strain patriotic that wakens the soul
To all that is noble and free;
These lyrics o'er men have a strong control,
Oh! the Songs of the People for me.

As before stated, Prince was no misanthrope, and he seems to have been instilled with hope as to the future of the English toilers. The following verse is quoted from the stirring poem, "A call to the People."

O God! the future yet shall see
On this fair world of thine,
The myriads wise, and good, and free,
Fulfil thy blest design;
The dawn of Truth, long overcast,
Shall kindle into day at last.
Bright, boundless and divine;
And man shall walk the fruitful sod,
A being worthy of his God.

Of the facile and musical flow of his language many evidences could be quoted; the following, however, will suffice. The lines are taken haphazard from a poem called "The Maid of a Mountain Land."

A smile of delight from all went round,
As she turned to the casket of sleeping sound;
On the tremulous keys her fingers fell.
As rain-drops fall in a crystal well;
Till full on the ear the witchery stole,
And melody melted the captive soul;
She touched the cords with a skilful hand,—
That dark-eyed Maid of a Mountain Land.

One of the best of Prince's poems is "The Golden Land of Poesy," and the following verses extracted from it are evidently the poet's own estimate of his work.

At length, oh joy! the enchanted shore
Loomed up in far-off loveliness,
And I grew eager to explore
The wondrous realm;—my tears ran o'er
With very gladness of success;
Odours of spices and of flowers
Came on the breezes flowing free;
Rich branches, reft from gorgeous bowers,
Bestrewed the wave;—the land was ours—
The Golden Land of Poesy.

Not yet! a barrier crossed my way—
My shrinking vessel back recoiled;
I could not reach the sheltering bay.
For rocks and shoals about me lay.
And winds opposed, and water boiled,
Thus baffled by the Poet-God;
I only brought—alas for me—
Some waifs and strays from that bright God;
Which I have seen, but have not trod—
The Golden Land of Poesy.'

My John Critchley Prince posts:
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John Critchley Prince in Harpurhey, Manchester
John Critchley Prince in Hyde
John Critchley Prince and Joseph Johnston in Hyde
The Life of John Critchley Prince (1880), by R. A. Douglas Lithgow

L. S. Lowry and Harry Rutherford in Tameside

The bronze statue of the painter L. S. Lowry, installed in 2005 at Jollys Corner at the junction of Hyde Road and Stalybridge Road, Mottram in Longdendale, Tameside.

At the side is a pictorial map of Mottram.

One of the pictures is a Lowryesque representation of Lowry's former house round the corner at 23 Stalybridge Road.

'LAWRENCE STEPHEN LOWRY 1887–1976

The famous North Country artist L. S. Lowry

lived here from 1948 until his death in 1976.

The paintings of Lowry document the lives

of ordinary people in the industrial

communities of the North West.'

And the house itself. Lowry was buried in his parents' grave in Southern Cemetery, Chorlton, which has been made famous of course through The Smiths' song 'Cemetry Gates' [sic], although when I went there I didn't realize Lowry was buried there.

Lowry's house was named 'The Elms', and the inscription is just about legible on either side of the door here.

And just three miles to the west of the Lowry statue, at the side of the entrance to Hyde Town Hall, is a slightly ambiguous plaque dedicated to another 'Northern School' painter.

'HARRY RUTHERFORD 1903–1985

The artist Harry Rutherford lived here, keeping

a studio next door. Rutherford liked to paint

popular entertainments – music halls, theatres,

pubs, the circus and the cinema and sketched

for his own television programmes

in the 1930s and 1950s'

'This blue plaque to Harry Rutherford is a replica.

The original may be seen at his former home at

17 Nelson Street, Hyde.

The plaque was unveiled on 20th November 1993

by Sir George Kenyon, DL, BSc, LLD,

a close friend of the artist.'

And here is the plaque at Nelson Street, shadowed by scaffolding from the house next door to it.

A previous blog post I made about Lowry's work is linked below.

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L. S. Lowry in Nottingham, England