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Round Yorkshire With A Knife: The Wizards Quest Part 8 - Here, There Be Monsters
Background: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...-to-Jack-Black
Previous instalments -
Part 1: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...-Knaresborough
Part 2: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-2
Part 3: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-3
Part 4: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-4
Part 5: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-5
Part 6: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-6
Part 7: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...kshire-With-A-Knife-The-Wizard’s-Quest-Part-7
Just before the train pulls into Wakefield Westgate, one of the small city of Wakefields two train stations, a row of closely-planted conifers screens from view Englands largest high security prison. Like many British jails, Her Majestys Prison Wakefield, is a mixture of ancient and modern, combining recently renovated accommodation blocks with other structures of some antiquity. The mulberry bush of the childrens nursery rhyme is to be found somewhere within the prisons high walls.
Over the years, HMP Wakefield has held men, women, and children. It has held highwaymen, petty thieves, Chartists, conscientious objectors, rioters, IRA men, and many more. For the past couple of decades, it has specialised in the incarceration of murderers and sex-offenders, holding some of the countrys nastiest and most notorious individuals, the prisoners even other prisoners wont mix with, and other jails dont want. It is known to locals as Monster Mansion.
Despite its size and longevity, most visitors to Wakey are probably not even aware of the prisons existence. Unless you are going to the jail, or to nearby Clarks brewery, when you leave Westgate station, there is little reason to turn right, downhill and under the railway bridge, behind which Monster Mansion is hidden , rather than left towards the city centre.
On the way into town, there are pubs and bars on both sides of the road, and on Friday and Saturday nights its mayhem here. Today, apart from boisterous children with a week off school for half-term, its pretty quiet. Not many visitors, even many who are from Wakey, are slow to say that the place is a bit of a dump. Locals will apologetically tell you there are good bits, usually further out of town. Still, some must like it enough to live here, and its true that there are some good bits around Wakefield, once you get a few miles away from it. Some of the large country parks that have been created where once there were coal-mines and slag-heaps are delightful.
I headed towards the market, but as soon as I spied it I knew there was little chance of a Grail-find . The outside part consisted of around 20 stalls, selling cheap clothing, DVDs, cut-price cakes and confectionary, fish, and second-hand books. There was a small jewellery stall, and a couple of general junk stalls. I had a quick sweep around, then had a look in the indoor section, which was of no more interest.
I set off to hunt around Wakefield, the only lead I had being a vintage and collectibles shop, which had closed down. It was not alone, just like most British high streets today, there were plenty of empty shops, including Alexanders Tackle & Guns, which might have been worth a look had it still been open.
I came across a decent independent army stores, which was full to the rafters with rucsacs and pouches, military clothing of all sorts, various survival items, and knives. The knives werent up to much unfortunately, though I did see a modern Sheffield-made British Army clasp knife. Would that satisfy the Wizard? Possibly, but I was hoping for better.
Towering over Wakefield, almost as large as the prison and far more imposing, sitting incongruously besides pubs and pawn-brokers, cobblers and cake-shops, is the citys vast cathedral, it is the tallest building in Wakefield, with the highest church spire in Yorkshire (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wakefield_Cathedral).
Usually, to find the sort of shops I was after, you have to get off the high street, travel out of town a little. You dont have to go far out of the centre of Wakefield for it to go from down-at-heel to complete dereliction though. Even the high street is littered with pawn shop and the sort of £1 shops which specialise in the very cheapest junk food. I was getting hungry, but felt a bit like the Ancient Mariner, surrounded by food, but with nothing to eat in sight.
I turned into a large shopping mall, built twenty years or so ago, even this was a bit down-at-heel, but I was hoping I could at least get something to eat here. I spotted a pasty shop, but gave up when I saw the size of the queue. By this point I was ravenous and beginning to feel a little weak. I managed to find a place to sit down and took a flask of coffee from my bag. I had two mince-pies in a Tupperware container, but couldnt get the lid off. I reached to get my knife out to lever off the lid, but as I was about to do so, three burly security guards lurched into view, eyeing everyone and everything suspiciously. I knew that producing the smallest penknife at this point was likely to result in my being wrestled to the ground and sat on. Yet, I was feeling weaker by the minute.
I figured Id find a dark corner in which to do my dirty business, and slipping my knife surreptitiously from my pocket, I levered off the plastic lid, and scarfed a sweet mince-pie. I was not going to starve to death in Wakefield!
With my mouth full of moist fruit and pastry, I looked about me, and spotted a newly-opened Antiques & Collectibles centre like a mirage in the corner of the precinct. It was totally out of place, but a very welcome sight, and I headed towards it, scoffing another mince-pie as I went.
Inside were cupboards and cabinets containing old collectibles, shelves and tables contained larger items, and there was vintage furniture spread around. In one of the first cases, I spotted a tiny Richards knife at a silly price, and feared that there would be nothing more, but there were a few things. Being at the centre of a coal-mining area, there were Davey lamps aplenty, costing quite a lot, and lots of miners tally tags and union badges at reasonable prices. There were old British coins and notes, nothing that special from what I could see. There was plenty of jewellery, and old tankards, and vintage homeware, a nice selection of stuff, and not all at fancy prices. I spotted a worn old Sheffield carving knife, priced beyond its value, and a few overpriced Richards cracked-ice penknives being sold as MOP. More interesting was a large old Harrison Brothers & Howson table-knife, it was a bit pricey, but the attached cardboard tag claimed that the blocky stained brown handles were ivory, which I am sceptical of. The same claim was made for the large fork next to it.
In a cabinet nearby was a British Army WW2 pattern clasp knife and a Lambsfoot with Bexite covers, both a bit overpriced. I thought Id have a closer look at them though, and went over to the cash-desk to ask the gentleman there if I might inspect them. We got chatting and I noticed there were a few other small knives in the display case there. Three of them were made by Richards, including another cracked-ice model masquerading as MOP. I pointed out the discrepancy, and the chap seemed genuinely interested. The place is one of many similar establishments which rent out space to people who want to sell their small collections.
An assistant took me back over to the cabinet with the clasp knife and the Lambsfoot in, and unlocked it for me. The clasp knife wasnt up to much, and unfortunately the Lambsfoot had been very heavily cleaned. The blade and bolster were shiny and bright, but there was nothing left of the tang-stamp, and little left of the blade. Passing them up, I went back to the counter to look at another small penknife Id spotted, there was a crack in the bone on the mark side, but the price wasnt too bad, and I hate to leave empty-handed.
I couldnt read the tang-stamp on the knife in the shop, but it reads T.M over Bingham over Sheffield. The reverse is even harder to make out, and I apologise for the photos, Ill try to get a better one of the reverse of the tang stamp. The top word is Select I think, the other, I really dont know. Any info on the maker would be appreciated as Im not turning up a lot.
After another short chat with the gentleman Id spoken to before, and getting a bite to eat, I poked around Wakey a bit more, finding myself back at the market. The weather had turned from sunny and mild to quite gloomy now, and the market was more or less empty of customers. Noticing an advert for the antiques centre I had just left on the jewellery stall, I struck up conversation with the owner, who it turned out rented a cabinet there. I asked him if he ever got any pocket-knives. He said that he came across them only rarely, but showed me a MOP-handled silver fruit knife with a broken spring, and said hed look out for some carbon steel for me. On another stall I bought a cheese-dish for £1.
As I was walking back to the train station, I spotted what I at first took to be an antiques shop, but which turned out to be the most up-market charity shop I have ever been in. I crossed the street and entered. I looked around, seeing mainly vintage crockery and glassware carefully displayed, a little furniture, and various ornaments. Besides myself, there were just the two middle-aged lady assistants in the shop. This is a beautiful shop, I remarked, asking how long it had been there, and what it had been before. The two ladies seemed very proud of the place and pleased with my comments, telling me about how it had been re-furbished. When we got the decorator in, he just looked around and told us exactly what was wrong and what needed doing, one of the ladies told me. It didnt look too bad, but he spotted all the faults wed missed.
Well you dont argue with a craftsman, her colleague continued. They have an eye for it, dont they? I agreed, telling them I thought he had done a lovely job.
I began to look around, spotting a couple of small cutlery canteens. This didnt look like any charity shop Id ever been in, but then the prices werent like any Id been in either. Everything was very tastefully displayed, but I could see, more or less at a glance, that there were no pocket-knives. Nothing else particularly caught my eye, but I thought it might be somewhere worth visiting from time to time, as and when I pass through Wakefield.
As I was about to leave, I thought Id broach the subject of pocket-knives with the two ladies Id previously been having a sensible conversation with. Do you ever have any old penknives in? I enquired. The atmosphere changed immediately. Were not allowed to, the first one told me through tight lips, We cant have them on display. I asked what they did with any they had donated. They go for scrap, the second lady chimed in.
That seems a shame, I said. Perhaps I could leave you my number, Id be willing to buy them from you.
They go for scrap, I was told. Except for any really special ones, we might sell them. I didnt remark upon the contradiction, but asked how they knew which were the special ones. We have a lady who knows her stuff, Tweedle-Dee told me.
And anybody can use Google, Tweedle-Dum remarked, rather sneeringly. I kept my composure and left. The sensible ladies I had been speaking to about decorating had become a pair of idiots before my eyes. And to them, I had become a monster.
Back at the train station, I soon boarded a Leeds-bound train, and as it pulled out of the station, I glanced at the central clock-tower of Monster Mansion for the merest fraction of a second before my thoughts were once again elsewhere.
The Hunt Continues!
Jack
Edit - Sorry, I've only just remembered to take more pics of the reverse tang stamps. Not very clear I'm afraid. Could the second line begin 'Cutlery'?
I also forgot to take a pic showing scale.
Background: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...-to-Jack-Black
Previous instalments -
Part 1: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...-Knaresborough
Part 2: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-2
Part 3: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-3
Part 4: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-4
Part 5: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-5
Part 6: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/sh...s-Quest-Part-6
Part 7: http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...kshire-With-A-Knife-The-Wizard’s-Quest-Part-7
Just before the train pulls into Wakefield Westgate, one of the small city of Wakefields two train stations, a row of closely-planted conifers screens from view Englands largest high security prison. Like many British jails, Her Majestys Prison Wakefield, is a mixture of ancient and modern, combining recently renovated accommodation blocks with other structures of some antiquity. The mulberry bush of the childrens nursery rhyme is to be found somewhere within the prisons high walls.
Over the years, HMP Wakefield has held men, women, and children. It has held highwaymen, petty thieves, Chartists, conscientious objectors, rioters, IRA men, and many more. For the past couple of decades, it has specialised in the incarceration of murderers and sex-offenders, holding some of the countrys nastiest and most notorious individuals, the prisoners even other prisoners wont mix with, and other jails dont want. It is known to locals as Monster Mansion.
Despite its size and longevity, most visitors to Wakey are probably not even aware of the prisons existence. Unless you are going to the jail, or to nearby Clarks brewery, when you leave Westgate station, there is little reason to turn right, downhill and under the railway bridge, behind which Monster Mansion is hidden , rather than left towards the city centre.
On the way into town, there are pubs and bars on both sides of the road, and on Friday and Saturday nights its mayhem here. Today, apart from boisterous children with a week off school for half-term, its pretty quiet. Not many visitors, even many who are from Wakey, are slow to say that the place is a bit of a dump. Locals will apologetically tell you there are good bits, usually further out of town. Still, some must like it enough to live here, and its true that there are some good bits around Wakefield, once you get a few miles away from it. Some of the large country parks that have been created where once there were coal-mines and slag-heaps are delightful.
I headed towards the market, but as soon as I spied it I knew there was little chance of a Grail-find . The outside part consisted of around 20 stalls, selling cheap clothing, DVDs, cut-price cakes and confectionary, fish, and second-hand books. There was a small jewellery stall, and a couple of general junk stalls. I had a quick sweep around, then had a look in the indoor section, which was of no more interest.
I set off to hunt around Wakefield, the only lead I had being a vintage and collectibles shop, which had closed down. It was not alone, just like most British high streets today, there were plenty of empty shops, including Alexanders Tackle & Guns, which might have been worth a look had it still been open.
I came across a decent independent army stores, which was full to the rafters with rucsacs and pouches, military clothing of all sorts, various survival items, and knives. The knives werent up to much unfortunately, though I did see a modern Sheffield-made British Army clasp knife. Would that satisfy the Wizard? Possibly, but I was hoping for better.
Towering over Wakefield, almost as large as the prison and far more imposing, sitting incongruously besides pubs and pawn-brokers, cobblers and cake-shops, is the citys vast cathedral, it is the tallest building in Wakefield, with the highest church spire in Yorkshire (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wakefield_Cathedral).
Usually, to find the sort of shops I was after, you have to get off the high street, travel out of town a little. You dont have to go far out of the centre of Wakefield for it to go from down-at-heel to complete dereliction though. Even the high street is littered with pawn shop and the sort of £1 shops which specialise in the very cheapest junk food. I was getting hungry, but felt a bit like the Ancient Mariner, surrounded by food, but with nothing to eat in sight.
I turned into a large shopping mall, built twenty years or so ago, even this was a bit down-at-heel, but I was hoping I could at least get something to eat here. I spotted a pasty shop, but gave up when I saw the size of the queue. By this point I was ravenous and beginning to feel a little weak. I managed to find a place to sit down and took a flask of coffee from my bag. I had two mince-pies in a Tupperware container, but couldnt get the lid off. I reached to get my knife out to lever off the lid, but as I was about to do so, three burly security guards lurched into view, eyeing everyone and everything suspiciously. I knew that producing the smallest penknife at this point was likely to result in my being wrestled to the ground and sat on. Yet, I was feeling weaker by the minute.
I figured Id find a dark corner in which to do my dirty business, and slipping my knife surreptitiously from my pocket, I levered off the plastic lid, and scarfed a sweet mince-pie. I was not going to starve to death in Wakefield!
With my mouth full of moist fruit and pastry, I looked about me, and spotted a newly-opened Antiques & Collectibles centre like a mirage in the corner of the precinct. It was totally out of place, but a very welcome sight, and I headed towards it, scoffing another mince-pie as I went.
Inside were cupboards and cabinets containing old collectibles, shelves and tables contained larger items, and there was vintage furniture spread around. In one of the first cases, I spotted a tiny Richards knife at a silly price, and feared that there would be nothing more, but there were a few things. Being at the centre of a coal-mining area, there were Davey lamps aplenty, costing quite a lot, and lots of miners tally tags and union badges at reasonable prices. There were old British coins and notes, nothing that special from what I could see. There was plenty of jewellery, and old tankards, and vintage homeware, a nice selection of stuff, and not all at fancy prices. I spotted a worn old Sheffield carving knife, priced beyond its value, and a few overpriced Richards cracked-ice penknives being sold as MOP. More interesting was a large old Harrison Brothers & Howson table-knife, it was a bit pricey, but the attached cardboard tag claimed that the blocky stained brown handles were ivory, which I am sceptical of. The same claim was made for the large fork next to it.
In a cabinet nearby was a British Army WW2 pattern clasp knife and a Lambsfoot with Bexite covers, both a bit overpriced. I thought Id have a closer look at them though, and went over to the cash-desk to ask the gentleman there if I might inspect them. We got chatting and I noticed there were a few other small knives in the display case there. Three of them were made by Richards, including another cracked-ice model masquerading as MOP. I pointed out the discrepancy, and the chap seemed genuinely interested. The place is one of many similar establishments which rent out space to people who want to sell their small collections.
An assistant took me back over to the cabinet with the clasp knife and the Lambsfoot in, and unlocked it for me. The clasp knife wasnt up to much, and unfortunately the Lambsfoot had been very heavily cleaned. The blade and bolster were shiny and bright, but there was nothing left of the tang-stamp, and little left of the blade. Passing them up, I went back to the counter to look at another small penknife Id spotted, there was a crack in the bone on the mark side, but the price wasnt too bad, and I hate to leave empty-handed.
I couldnt read the tang-stamp on the knife in the shop, but it reads T.M over Bingham over Sheffield. The reverse is even harder to make out, and I apologise for the photos, Ill try to get a better one of the reverse of the tang stamp. The top word is Select I think, the other, I really dont know. Any info on the maker would be appreciated as Im not turning up a lot.
After another short chat with the gentleman Id spoken to before, and getting a bite to eat, I poked around Wakey a bit more, finding myself back at the market. The weather had turned from sunny and mild to quite gloomy now, and the market was more or less empty of customers. Noticing an advert for the antiques centre I had just left on the jewellery stall, I struck up conversation with the owner, who it turned out rented a cabinet there. I asked him if he ever got any pocket-knives. He said that he came across them only rarely, but showed me a MOP-handled silver fruit knife with a broken spring, and said hed look out for some carbon steel for me. On another stall I bought a cheese-dish for £1.
As I was walking back to the train station, I spotted what I at first took to be an antiques shop, but which turned out to be the most up-market charity shop I have ever been in. I crossed the street and entered. I looked around, seeing mainly vintage crockery and glassware carefully displayed, a little furniture, and various ornaments. Besides myself, there were just the two middle-aged lady assistants in the shop. This is a beautiful shop, I remarked, asking how long it had been there, and what it had been before. The two ladies seemed very proud of the place and pleased with my comments, telling me about how it had been re-furbished. When we got the decorator in, he just looked around and told us exactly what was wrong and what needed doing, one of the ladies told me. It didnt look too bad, but he spotted all the faults wed missed.
Well you dont argue with a craftsman, her colleague continued. They have an eye for it, dont they? I agreed, telling them I thought he had done a lovely job.
I began to look around, spotting a couple of small cutlery canteens. This didnt look like any charity shop Id ever been in, but then the prices werent like any Id been in either. Everything was very tastefully displayed, but I could see, more or less at a glance, that there were no pocket-knives. Nothing else particularly caught my eye, but I thought it might be somewhere worth visiting from time to time, as and when I pass through Wakefield.
As I was about to leave, I thought Id broach the subject of pocket-knives with the two ladies Id previously been having a sensible conversation with. Do you ever have any old penknives in? I enquired. The atmosphere changed immediately. Were not allowed to, the first one told me through tight lips, We cant have them on display. I asked what they did with any they had donated. They go for scrap, the second lady chimed in.
That seems a shame, I said. Perhaps I could leave you my number, Id be willing to buy them from you.
They go for scrap, I was told. Except for any really special ones, we might sell them. I didnt remark upon the contradiction, but asked how they knew which were the special ones. We have a lady who knows her stuff, Tweedle-Dee told me.
And anybody can use Google, Tweedle-Dum remarked, rather sneeringly. I kept my composure and left. The sensible ladies I had been speaking to about decorating had become a pair of idiots before my eyes. And to them, I had become a monster.
Back at the train station, I soon boarded a Leeds-bound train, and as it pulled out of the station, I glanced at the central clock-tower of Monster Mansion for the merest fraction of a second before my thoughts were once again elsewhere.
The Hunt Continues!
Jack
Edit - Sorry, I've only just remembered to take more pics of the reverse tang stamps. Not very clear I'm afraid. Could the second line begin 'Cutlery'?
I also forgot to take a pic showing scale.
Last edited:
