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Round Yorkshire With A Knife: The Wizards Quest Part 2 Old Teds and Tall Boys in Leeds Market
(Part 1 - http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...rd’s-Quest-Part-1-Bad-Knight-In-Knaresborough)
Like most of us, Im rushed off my feet at this time of year, busy spending money I havent got on presents for people I barely see, and trying to finish off work so I have a clear desk for Christmas. While I havent time to flit round the local towns, earnestly pursuing the Wizards Quest (see http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...o-Jack-Black?p=12940386&posted=1#post12940386), my local second-hand market was not to be missed.
Leeds Market has been having difficult times for years now, the local Council consider it out of place and would like to see it gone, or at least totally transformed. Greedy eyes look at its beautiful architecture and think how much better it would be as yet another of the citys numerous up-market malls. In the middle of a seemingly unending recession, stall rents have gone through the roof, pushing many businesses, some generations old, to breaking point. While numerous stalls have closed down in the indoor market, the real treasure is the outdoor market, but that too is under threat. Soon, work will begin on yet another town centre mega-store, which will cause the demolition of part of the indoor market and cover its large car-park. Given a choice between retaining an outdoor market which they appear to despise, and building a new car-park for a swanky shopping mall, most traders are in little doubt what the Council will choose.
The outdoor market may be in its death-throes, but while its still there, its a great place to shop, with a fantastic sense of community, and real bargains. The market changes a little bit each day, and on Thursday, its the second-hand market, with about a third of the stalls given over to traders selling a myriad of odds and ends, everything from antique pocket-watches to childrens toys, and from old books to crockery.
Ive got an idea what I want for the Wizard just as well really and I might find it in the market, or maybe something else will just have that special something. Experience tells me that you really never know what is going to turn up.
I arrived in the market early, with cash in my wallet, as always. Most of the stalls I buy from are there each week, so I follow a regular pattern around them. The first stall I come to is run by Misery Guts, who is as the name implies, he doesnt usually have much, and his prices tend to be on the high side. His wife is much more pleasant, and she sometimes runs the stall without him. He was there today, sour-faced as ever, so I gave the stall a cursory look and passed on.
Further along, a nice chatty feller sells vintage coins and a few other bits and bobs, such as pocket-watches. Ive had a few knives off him before, and he tells me he has a box of them at home somewhere. I ask if hes found them yet. He tells me he hasnt, but that his wife is trying to persuade him to have a sort-out. He has every confidence hell find them. I wish him all the best and pass on.
A middle-aged couple run a stall which sells books and badges, bits of militaria, and general collectibles. Shes a jolly woman, hes rather dour, but fair enough. Again, Ive had a few knives off them in the past. Today they have a few Richards knives sitting in a glass cabinet, all of which Ive seen before, and none of which are worth buying.
I pass a couple of slightly more up-market stalls selling antique crockery and glassware. I always give them a glance, but theyve never had any knives tucked away behind the crystal decanters and Royal Doulton. No harm in looking though.
Further along is my main destination, a great stall run by a lovely feller, and an ex fire fighter, whose been in the market game for a long while. His stall sells all sorts of interesting things at fair prices; old tools, vintage razors, coins, crockery, table cutlery, old cigarette lighters, and pocket knives, which he usually sets aside for me. Ay up Chris, I hail him. We exchange pleasantries. He apologises as he doesnt have anything for me, except for a Champagne Knife. We discuss it. I ask for a price and pay him, his prices are always fair. I slip the knife in my pocket, and we go on to talking about various other interesting items he has on his stall. After a good chat, I wish him all the best, we shake hands, and I go off to my next port of call, the tool stall.
The tool stall specialises in vintage British and (sometimes) American tools, and is run by another great bloke, who is like a full-on-advert for Yorkshire. Hes a big jovial chap, who wears braces and a cloth cap, he loves a joke and a laugh, and to talk about the tools he has on the stall that week. He doesnt have too many knives, so I dont buy that much off him, but I always pass by to while away ten minutes with Paul and his pal Ray, who has a small section of the stall selling beer memorabilia. Paul and Ray were Teddy Boys ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teddy_Boy) back in the day, and every now and again, they still get dressed up and go out in their drape jackets. I catch them scoffing mince pies, and they greet me enthusiastically. First things first, I have to show Paul the 301 I bought from Misery Guts last week. He is astonished, telling me he privately thought Id bought a right piece of rubbish when I showed it him last week. Both he and Ray enthuse about the satisfaction one gets from doing a good job cleaning up an old knife or tool. We exchange a few stories and jokes, laughing loudly. I have a look on the stall. There are some old WW2 aircraft escape axes, similar to a Naval Boarding Axe, a lovely old Martindale machete Paul has had on the stall a few weeks, a great old Sheffield butchers cleaver, which weighs a ton and has been on the stall months, and plenty of nice hammers and axes. Theres nothing that tempts me though, and so I head off to do a final sweep of the market, casting my eye over a few of the stalls I havent yet visited.
I pass a guy I know who runs a record stall, one of the few traders who makes a decent living. His stall is quiet today though.
An old glamour girl runs a stall which sells a great variety of items, and I have a quick look to see if she has anything for me. I spot a kitchen knife, and see it has a Joseph Rodgers etch. The knife is familiar. Ive had a full set of Wostenholms Gourmet range since they were made in the mid 1970s, and I know this range were produced without tang stamps and also sold with the Wilkinson Sword etch. This knife is like one of mine, but with a poor fit and finish. I imagine it was made in the dying days of the company, perhaps hafted after they moved into the Richards factory, or just before. The blade is not very sharp, and is scarred from a sharpening steel, but this is basically a good blade, made from good Sheffield stainless, and well worth what I pay for it. Blondie behind the stall wraps it in a plastic carrier-bag, it really doesnt look very safe. I tell her itll be OK in my bag, which she admires, a fine side-pack recently given to me by ScruffUK, which has a thick leather lining.
I check out one or two more stalls, and then stop to talk to a mate of mine who runs a stall selling DVDs and electrical goods. Hes trying to have a conversation with a bloke who is completely deaf about some audio speakers hes purchased. He looks cold and stressed, poor bloke. Being a market trader is not an easy job, long days, freezing temperatures, and little to show for it at the end of the week.
On my way out, I pass Misery Guts again. His wife is here now, so hes cheered up a bit. I notice a small cardboard box of knives, right at the rear of the stall. I say Hello to Mrs MG, and ask if I can look at the knives. She passes me the box, and I start to go through them, realising Ive seen most of them before. There are a couple of WW2 clasp knives, but in poor shape. Most of the rest are Richards knives or other cheapies, and again, theyre in poor condition. I doubt Ill find anything at all. One of the knives, a Jack, turns out to be a William Rodgers with horn scales, the main blade is terribly worn though.
Against my better judgement, I pick out a Richard Sheepsfoot Jack, which is unusual and quite old. Theres a small MOP penknife, but the blades wont open. I realise Ive seen this knife before. I suspect the blades are crossed over. Im just considering whether to include this one when Misery Guts, who to be fair is not at his worst today, asks me to pass him the box back a minute. I see that he and his wife are looking over my shoulder and while passing him the box I glance to see what theyre looking at. Four very large policemen are advancing through the market, casting their eyes about on the stalls. They head in my direction and pass behind me. After theyve gone, Misery Guts hands me the box back, and I end up taking the 3 knives. I mention the large kitchen knife in my bag and we discuss the situation. Both Misery Guts and his wife, and a friend who has now joined them, are of the opinion that it is a criminal offence to have a knife ANY knife in your possession. While I know thats not the case, I can fully understand why they think that.
I go to the post-box at the side of the market to post a final Xmas card, and notice that there are three police officers just outside one of the markets side entrances. There is a man of around 30 sitting on the floor between them. I assume that he has been arrested by them, and that the other policemen must have been looking for him before. I walk past them and go into the market. Soon after, I see several more policemen. I assume they are looking for the bloke their colleagues have detained, and nearly mention it to them. They dont look very approachable though, and I dont want to interfere, perhaps the detained man has a partner. They are all very tall, Im 6ft 2, and theyre taller than me. They wear the paraphernalia of modern British policing, stab-vests, extendable batons, pepper-spray, etc. Their trousers are blowsed into their boots in military style. As I walk between the stalls I see more and more police and wonder if theres been a serious incident. As I pass one stall, there are policemen behind the counter, two are talking to the proprietor, another is thoroughly searching a customer. I walk on and see another small group of police officers searching two men. Im slowly becoming aware of the sheer numbers of police officers in the market, there must be at least 30 or 40, possibly more. They appear to be conducting some sort of sweep rather than looking for someone in particular. Other policemen are looking at the stalls, but they do not appear to be doing their Christmas shopping. I feel a little uneasy, I have a bag full of knives, all legally carried, but who knows what is going on. As I approach the exit, more police officers are blocking the doors. Two lads in their twenties enter and are stopped and questioned, asked to give their details. While this is going on I pass through, probably saved by my age and decrepitude, thankful to be back out in the street.
At home, I examine my purchases and begin to clean them. I have to use needle-nose pliers to open the MOP penknife, it looks as if the kicks on the blades have been filed, the pulls on both blades sit below the liners. Nothing really for the Wizard I dont think. A wild colonial boy might have been very glad of that big Joseph Rodgers knife, but its too modern, and stainless, and just not right at all. So inevitably...
The Hunt continues.
Jack
(Part 1 - http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...rd’s-Quest-Part-1-Bad-Knight-In-Knaresborough)
Summer in the city - not at all like today! The market building is in the distance.
Like most of us, Im rushed off my feet at this time of year, busy spending money I havent got on presents for people I barely see, and trying to finish off work so I have a clear desk for Christmas. While I havent time to flit round the local towns, earnestly pursuing the Wizards Quest (see http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...o-Jack-Black?p=12940386&posted=1#post12940386), my local second-hand market was not to be missed.
Leeds Market has been having difficult times for years now, the local Council consider it out of place and would like to see it gone, or at least totally transformed. Greedy eyes look at its beautiful architecture and think how much better it would be as yet another of the citys numerous up-market malls. In the middle of a seemingly unending recession, stall rents have gone through the roof, pushing many businesses, some generations old, to breaking point. While numerous stalls have closed down in the indoor market, the real treasure is the outdoor market, but that too is under threat. Soon, work will begin on yet another town centre mega-store, which will cause the demolition of part of the indoor market and cover its large car-park. Given a choice between retaining an outdoor market which they appear to despise, and building a new car-park for a swanky shopping mall, most traders are in little doubt what the Council will choose.
More photos of Leeds Market, also taken in the summer.
The outdoor market may be in its death-throes, but while its still there, its a great place to shop, with a fantastic sense of community, and real bargains. The market changes a little bit each day, and on Thursday, its the second-hand market, with about a third of the stalls given over to traders selling a myriad of odds and ends, everything from antique pocket-watches to childrens toys, and from old books to crockery.
Ive got an idea what I want for the Wizard just as well really and I might find it in the market, or maybe something else will just have that special something. Experience tells me that you really never know what is going to turn up.
I arrived in the market early, with cash in my wallet, as always. Most of the stalls I buy from are there each week, so I follow a regular pattern around them. The first stall I come to is run by Misery Guts, who is as the name implies, he doesnt usually have much, and his prices tend to be on the high side. His wife is much more pleasant, and she sometimes runs the stall without him. He was there today, sour-faced as ever, so I gave the stall a cursory look and passed on.
Further along, a nice chatty feller sells vintage coins and a few other bits and bobs, such as pocket-watches. Ive had a few knives off him before, and he tells me he has a box of them at home somewhere. I ask if hes found them yet. He tells me he hasnt, but that his wife is trying to persuade him to have a sort-out. He has every confidence hell find them. I wish him all the best and pass on.
A middle-aged couple run a stall which sells books and badges, bits of militaria, and general collectibles. Shes a jolly woman, hes rather dour, but fair enough. Again, Ive had a few knives off them in the past. Today they have a few Richards knives sitting in a glass cabinet, all of which Ive seen before, and none of which are worth buying.
I pass a couple of slightly more up-market stalls selling antique crockery and glassware. I always give them a glance, but theyve never had any knives tucked away behind the crystal decanters and Royal Doulton. No harm in looking though.
Further along is my main destination, a great stall run by a lovely feller, and an ex fire fighter, whose been in the market game for a long while. His stall sells all sorts of interesting things at fair prices; old tools, vintage razors, coins, crockery, table cutlery, old cigarette lighters, and pocket knives, which he usually sets aside for me. Ay up Chris, I hail him. We exchange pleasantries. He apologises as he doesnt have anything for me, except for a Champagne Knife. We discuss it. I ask for a price and pay him, his prices are always fair. I slip the knife in my pocket, and we go on to talking about various other interesting items he has on his stall. After a good chat, I wish him all the best, we shake hands, and I go off to my next port of call, the tool stall.
My British Admiralty 301 pattern sailor's knife before and after cleaning
The tool stall specialises in vintage British and (sometimes) American tools, and is run by another great bloke, who is like a full-on-advert for Yorkshire. Hes a big jovial chap, who wears braces and a cloth cap, he loves a joke and a laugh, and to talk about the tools he has on the stall that week. He doesnt have too many knives, so I dont buy that much off him, but I always pass by to while away ten minutes with Paul and his pal Ray, who has a small section of the stall selling beer memorabilia. Paul and Ray were Teddy Boys ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teddy_Boy) back in the day, and every now and again, they still get dressed up and go out in their drape jackets. I catch them scoffing mince pies, and they greet me enthusiastically. First things first, I have to show Paul the 301 I bought from Misery Guts last week. He is astonished, telling me he privately thought Id bought a right piece of rubbish when I showed it him last week. Both he and Ray enthuse about the satisfaction one gets from doing a good job cleaning up an old knife or tool. We exchange a few stories and jokes, laughing loudly. I have a look on the stall. There are some old WW2 aircraft escape axes, similar to a Naval Boarding Axe, a lovely old Martindale machete Paul has had on the stall a few weeks, a great old Sheffield butchers cleaver, which weighs a ton and has been on the stall months, and plenty of nice hammers and axes. Theres nothing that tempts me though, and so I head off to do a final sweep of the market, casting my eye over a few of the stalls I havent yet visited.
I pass a guy I know who runs a record stall, one of the few traders who makes a decent living. His stall is quiet today though.
An old glamour girl runs a stall which sells a great variety of items, and I have a quick look to see if she has anything for me. I spot a kitchen knife, and see it has a Joseph Rodgers etch. The knife is familiar. Ive had a full set of Wostenholms Gourmet range since they were made in the mid 1970s, and I know this range were produced without tang stamps and also sold with the Wilkinson Sword etch. This knife is like one of mine, but with a poor fit and finish. I imagine it was made in the dying days of the company, perhaps hafted after they moved into the Richards factory, or just before. The blade is not very sharp, and is scarred from a sharpening steel, but this is basically a good blade, made from good Sheffield stainless, and well worth what I pay for it. Blondie behind the stall wraps it in a plastic carrier-bag, it really doesnt look very safe. I tell her itll be OK in my bag, which she admires, a fine side-pack recently given to me by ScruffUK, which has a thick leather lining.
I check out one or two more stalls, and then stop to talk to a mate of mine who runs a stall selling DVDs and electrical goods. Hes trying to have a conversation with a bloke who is completely deaf about some audio speakers hes purchased. He looks cold and stressed, poor bloke. Being a market trader is not an easy job, long days, freezing temperatures, and little to show for it at the end of the week.
On my way out, I pass Misery Guts again. His wife is here now, so hes cheered up a bit. I notice a small cardboard box of knives, right at the rear of the stall. I say Hello to Mrs MG, and ask if I can look at the knives. She passes me the box, and I start to go through them, realising Ive seen most of them before. There are a couple of WW2 clasp knives, but in poor shape. Most of the rest are Richards knives or other cheapies, and again, theyre in poor condition. I doubt Ill find anything at all. One of the knives, a Jack, turns out to be a William Rodgers with horn scales, the main blade is terribly worn though.
Against my better judgement, I pick out a Richard Sheepsfoot Jack, which is unusual and quite old. Theres a small MOP penknife, but the blades wont open. I realise Ive seen this knife before. I suspect the blades are crossed over. Im just considering whether to include this one when Misery Guts, who to be fair is not at his worst today, asks me to pass him the box back a minute. I see that he and his wife are looking over my shoulder and while passing him the box I glance to see what theyre looking at. Four very large policemen are advancing through the market, casting their eyes about on the stalls. They head in my direction and pass behind me. After theyve gone, Misery Guts hands me the box back, and I end up taking the 3 knives. I mention the large kitchen knife in my bag and we discuss the situation. Both Misery Guts and his wife, and a friend who has now joined them, are of the opinion that it is a criminal offence to have a knife ANY knife in your possession. While I know thats not the case, I can fully understand why they think that.
I go to the post-box at the side of the market to post a final Xmas card, and notice that there are three police officers just outside one of the markets side entrances. There is a man of around 30 sitting on the floor between them. I assume that he has been arrested by them, and that the other policemen must have been looking for him before. I walk past them and go into the market. Soon after, I see several more policemen. I assume they are looking for the bloke their colleagues have detained, and nearly mention it to them. They dont look very approachable though, and I dont want to interfere, perhaps the detained man has a partner. They are all very tall, Im 6ft 2, and theyre taller than me. They wear the paraphernalia of modern British policing, stab-vests, extendable batons, pepper-spray, etc. Their trousers are blowsed into their boots in military style. As I walk between the stalls I see more and more police and wonder if theres been a serious incident. As I pass one stall, there are policemen behind the counter, two are talking to the proprietor, another is thoroughly searching a customer. I walk on and see another small group of police officers searching two men. Im slowly becoming aware of the sheer numbers of police officers in the market, there must be at least 30 or 40, possibly more. They appear to be conducting some sort of sweep rather than looking for someone in particular. Other policemen are looking at the stalls, but they do not appear to be doing their Christmas shopping. I feel a little uneasy, I have a bag full of knives, all legally carried, but who knows what is going on. As I approach the exit, more police officers are blocking the doors. Two lads in their twenties enter and are stopped and questioned, asked to give their details. While this is going on I pass through, probably saved by my age and decrepitude, thankful to be back out in the street.
At home, I examine my purchases and begin to clean them. I have to use needle-nose pliers to open the MOP penknife, it looks as if the kicks on the blades have been filed, the pulls on both blades sit below the liners. Nothing really for the Wizard I dont think. A wild colonial boy might have been very glad of that big Joseph Rodgers knife, but its too modern, and stainless, and just not right at all. So inevitably...
The Hunt continues.
Jack
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Its a shame that such a beautiful place is in peril and the folks are having such a hard time of it...but I guess it seems to be the tack of our times.
I hope this will be different next year.