- Joined
- Dec 2, 2005
- Messages
- 70,275
Round Yorkshire With A Knife - The Man Who Broke The Bank At Ponte Carlo
The ancient town of Pontefract sits in the middle of what was once the great Yorkshire coalfield, where for hundreds of years, men, (and in the distant past, women and children), dug coal from the earth, often working deep underground and in terrible conditions. Now the mines that surrounded Pontefract, scores of them, are gone, with little to indicate they ever existed besides some landscaped slag-heaps and a few traffic islands bedecked with old pit wheels. The miners that worked them have not been miners for a long time now, some of the younger ones will have found other jobs, the older ones will be retired, many will undoubtedly have passed away.
The closing of the pits saw hard times for everyone, not just those thrown out of work, many of the old pit villages have all but disappeared. On Pontefract's skyline, the vast Drax power-station, entirely fed by imported coal, sits mockingly. But there was a time when the pit-men earned good money for their hard toil, and the towns and villages they lived and spent in thrived. On Saturday nights, like nearby Castleford, Pontefract was a primary destination for young miners with fat wallets. "Where we off tonight lads, Cas Vegas or Ponte Carlo?" The pubs that lined Ponty's 'Beast Fair' were packed with scrubbed-up, tanked-up colliers; broad-shouldered, tough Yorkshiremen who played as hard as they worked.
While tough times followed the destruction of the coal industry, today Pontefract is back on its feet, with a thriving market, and still plenty of pubs. The pits may be gone, but Pontefract has not forgotten it's industrial heritage, and it is celebrated in the town's central museum, along with the other 'black stuff' for which the place is famous - liquorice, which has been grown in Pontefract for over 400 years.
In terms of knife swag, the early part of the British summer has been unexpectedly lacklustre, there's been little on the markets, and the 'car-boot' sales have been full of junk. My entire finds for the period are the motley collection below.
The large Hawkbill carries no mark at all.
The George Butler MOP-handled Penknife came rusted sadly, and the tip of the master blade needs some work.
The stainless ring-opener is Sheffield-made, but of mediocre quality.
The unusual single-blade by Butterfield of Bradford was absolutely rusted shut. The firm mainly made razors, and had ceased trading by 1906. I don't know if anyone knows the name of this pattern, it looks like something that might be used for chiropody or something.
The tang stamps on the red-handled Sleeveboard are largely illegible, possibly 'Unity' above 'Sheffield' (Co-operative Wholesale Society Ltd), possibly Hebrew or Greek.
The small red-handled penknife is Solingen-made, but the blades are nearly hanging off.
The two clam-shells are both by Richards. The Barlow is the same pattern as the first knife I ever bought, on a school trip when I was about nine.
The forks and can-opener are old, but unfortunately the latter has the central peg missing.
So, with that lot as my booty for the past month, I was hoping for something better in Ponte Carlo.
The centre of town is compact, and after a look round the museum, I walked the few yards to the open-air market laid out in the main street. There were plenty of shoppers and the market was busy, with stalls selling everything from cut-price confectionary to cloth caps. There was even a stall selling owl paraphernalia! I had a good look round, but didn't see much evidence of the 'secondhand' stalls which were supposed to be there, let alone any cutlery. I had a look in the stylish old-world indoor market, but while it sold everything from handbags to pork-pies, there was no sign of the pointy treasure I sought.
I turned right, and walked to the top of the pub-lined Beast Fair, before re-tracing my steps. Not a sausage! I was disappointed and decided to go for a pint and a chip-butty in The Liquourice Bush, where I considered my options. I had the addresses of two antique shops, so I thought I'd visit those next.
The first shop I came to had recently gone out of business. I turned round and walked back into the centre, heading towards Pontefract Castle, the ruins of which are well worth a visit. It was once a vast and impressive fortress, the scene of many a dark and bloody deed, the death place of King Richard II, and the last Royalist stronghold to surrender during the English Civil War. Much later, liquorice was cultivated on the site, with a representation of the castle appearing on liquorice 'Pontefract cakes', a small round button of the stuff, which are the town's most famous export, but which rather lost out to chocolate.
After a look round the castle grounds, I headed to the second antiques shop. Inside, it was so packed with furniture it was hardly possible to walk round, but there appeared to be nobody in attendance. Through an outside door at the back of the shop, I eventually found a man unloading yet more furniture from a large white van. I asked him if there were any penknives for sale. He told me that they didn't really get them, and went back to his labours.
Disappointed, I walked back up the hill to the town centre. When I got to the market-place, I spotted a jewellers on an adjacent street and decided to have a look in the window. As I looked up the road though, I saw that there were a couple of market-stalls that I'd previously missed, as they were tucked away behind Pontefract's old church. This must have been the secondhand section, because both stalls were selling all sorts of bric-a-brac, glass paper-weights, horse brasses, and a multitude of odds and sods. One of the stalls had a pile of pre-owned kitchen cutlery, and I quickly spotted something of interest mixed in; a Joseph Rodgers 'Green River' pattern. At a glance, I at first took the the 'ER' stamped on the blade, to be Elizabeth Regina, making it post-1952, but I quickly realised that the 'ER' stood for Edward Rex, and that it was from the first decade of the last century.
The ancient town of Pontefract sits in the middle of what was once the great Yorkshire coalfield, where for hundreds of years, men, (and in the distant past, women and children), dug coal from the earth, often working deep underground and in terrible conditions. Now the mines that surrounded Pontefract, scores of them, are gone, with little to indicate they ever existed besides some landscaped slag-heaps and a few traffic islands bedecked with old pit wheels. The miners that worked them have not been miners for a long time now, some of the younger ones will have found other jobs, the older ones will be retired, many will undoubtedly have passed away.
The closing of the pits saw hard times for everyone, not just those thrown out of work, many of the old pit villages have all but disappeared. On Pontefract's skyline, the vast Drax power-station, entirely fed by imported coal, sits mockingly. But there was a time when the pit-men earned good money for their hard toil, and the towns and villages they lived and spent in thrived. On Saturday nights, like nearby Castleford, Pontefract was a primary destination for young miners with fat wallets. "Where we off tonight lads, Cas Vegas or Ponte Carlo?" The pubs that lined Ponty's 'Beast Fair' were packed with scrubbed-up, tanked-up colliers; broad-shouldered, tough Yorkshiremen who played as hard as they worked.
While tough times followed the destruction of the coal industry, today Pontefract is back on its feet, with a thriving market, and still plenty of pubs. The pits may be gone, but Pontefract has not forgotten it's industrial heritage, and it is celebrated in the town's central museum, along with the other 'black stuff' for which the place is famous - liquorice, which has been grown in Pontefract for over 400 years.
In terms of knife swag, the early part of the British summer has been unexpectedly lacklustre, there's been little on the markets, and the 'car-boot' sales have been full of junk. My entire finds for the period are the motley collection below.
The large Hawkbill carries no mark at all.
The George Butler MOP-handled Penknife came rusted sadly, and the tip of the master blade needs some work.
The stainless ring-opener is Sheffield-made, but of mediocre quality.
The unusual single-blade by Butterfield of Bradford was absolutely rusted shut. The firm mainly made razors, and had ceased trading by 1906. I don't know if anyone knows the name of this pattern, it looks like something that might be used for chiropody or something.
The tang stamps on the red-handled Sleeveboard are largely illegible, possibly 'Unity' above 'Sheffield' (Co-operative Wholesale Society Ltd), possibly Hebrew or Greek.
The small red-handled penknife is Solingen-made, but the blades are nearly hanging off.
The two clam-shells are both by Richards. The Barlow is the same pattern as the first knife I ever bought, on a school trip when I was about nine.
The forks and can-opener are old, but unfortunately the latter has the central peg missing.
So, with that lot as my booty for the past month, I was hoping for something better in Ponte Carlo.
The centre of town is compact, and after a look round the museum, I walked the few yards to the open-air market laid out in the main street. There were plenty of shoppers and the market was busy, with stalls selling everything from cut-price confectionary to cloth caps. There was even a stall selling owl paraphernalia! I had a good look round, but didn't see much evidence of the 'secondhand' stalls which were supposed to be there, let alone any cutlery. I had a look in the stylish old-world indoor market, but while it sold everything from handbags to pork-pies, there was no sign of the pointy treasure I sought.
I turned right, and walked to the top of the pub-lined Beast Fair, before re-tracing my steps. Not a sausage! I was disappointed and decided to go for a pint and a chip-butty in The Liquourice Bush, where I considered my options. I had the addresses of two antique shops, so I thought I'd visit those next.
The first shop I came to had recently gone out of business. I turned round and walked back into the centre, heading towards Pontefract Castle, the ruins of which are well worth a visit. It was once a vast and impressive fortress, the scene of many a dark and bloody deed, the death place of King Richard II, and the last Royalist stronghold to surrender during the English Civil War. Much later, liquorice was cultivated on the site, with a representation of the castle appearing on liquorice 'Pontefract cakes', a small round button of the stuff, which are the town's most famous export, but which rather lost out to chocolate.
After a look round the castle grounds, I headed to the second antiques shop. Inside, it was so packed with furniture it was hardly possible to walk round, but there appeared to be nobody in attendance. Through an outside door at the back of the shop, I eventually found a man unloading yet more furniture from a large white van. I asked him if there were any penknives for sale. He told me that they didn't really get them, and went back to his labours.
Disappointed, I walked back up the hill to the town centre. When I got to the market-place, I spotted a jewellers on an adjacent street and decided to have a look in the window. As I looked up the road though, I saw that there were a couple of market-stalls that I'd previously missed, as they were tucked away behind Pontefract's old church. This must have been the secondhand section, because both stalls were selling all sorts of bric-a-brac, glass paper-weights, horse brasses, and a multitude of odds and sods. One of the stalls had a pile of pre-owned kitchen cutlery, and I quickly spotted something of interest mixed in; a Joseph Rodgers 'Green River' pattern. At a glance, I at first took the the 'ER' stamped on the blade, to be Elizabeth Regina, making it post-1952, but I quickly realised that the 'ER' stood for Edward Rex, and that it was from the first decade of the last century.
:thumbup:
W Jack! A Joseph Rodgers 'Green River' pattern!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:thumbup::thumbup:
