The local butcher and me...

The following account was recently handed to me...

"The contact that I had with the local butcher; during my formative years, was probably quite small - but it loomed large in my mind for many years. Perhaps the nature and quality of the contact determined the latter - but looking back it is clear that my sensitive nature was a factor.

What follows may not be chronologically exact, but given the nature of the observations offered that is not felt to be a problem, and it should not detract from the value of the account.

Several things happened that were in combination or individually to account for my aversion to butchers for years to come. 

The first was the creation of a new facility to kill animals after action was taken to do away with the nearby 'old abattoir', which involved the demolition of the butchers shop, abattoir and nearby buildings. 

The new facility was located on an allotment or close by one. I had occasion to pass the place many times, and whilst I do not recall seeing or hearing anything untoward, the fact that I knew the purpose of the building was sufficient to make me hasten my step as I approached it and look over my shoulder at it - as it receded into the distance.

The next thing was more intense. The butcher would place the severed head of a newly slaughtered pig into a prominent place within his shop window. 

Presumably this was some kind of advertisement of the availability of fresh meat, but that did not occur to me until a long time afterwards.

What fascinated me was the hole in the pigs forehead where the humane killer had entered the head of the animal - and killed it. 

The butcher was given to showing me the 'gun' that fired the bolt; and explained that he inserted some kind of metal probe into the hole and worked it about to make sure that the animal was indeed dead.

Fascinated I might have been, but I had nightmares about all aspects of it.

The final thing that I will mention was that the butcher was prone to 'butcher' a dead pig in what for me was a horrendous way. He used to hang the corpse - by its back legs - on hooks in the doorframe of the double entrance doorway of his shop - and then - open the abdomen with a knife - to release the wretched contents that fell into a strategically placed bowl. He would then proceed to divide up the corpse and take the pieces into his shop where he could do more detailed work upon them.

If I was unfortunate enough to have to visit the shop - whilst work was in progress on the corpse - I would have to squeeze past it.

I tried to avoid going near the shop when he was at this aspect of his work - but - he became aware of my squeamishness and played on it whenever he could - at least it seemed that way to me."

The Editor

The Big White Pig - and The Man From The Ministry

It is felt that the following items may justifiably be located under a heading of ‘now it can be told’ or perhaps even ‘now it must told’. 

The former of the terms has without doubt been used before; notably in connection with the struggle for independence in an island across the sea from this country, the latter is occasioned by the inevitability of the coming about of the passing of the storyteller, hence it is important that some things are now shared because; to slightly paraphrase, a well established truth is that ‘thou shalt know not in advance the destined day or the hour of thy passing’.

But in the case of the latter it is known that almost everyone associated with these events has already passed over, and so it is felt to be incumbent upon the author to attempt to perpetuate this story now, whilst time still permits.

It is recognised that what follows is a departure from the usual format for entries - in future this style may be used again.

This story mainly involves two men, it had to be men didn’t it, for in those far off days women did not exist in the true sense of the word, and besides that the antics herein documented bear out the belief that only men could be involved in such a scheme!

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During the years of The War a well known large white pig died on an allotment in the village. The pig had become well known because almost all of the households of the village had given their waste vegetables to ‘the man from the pig’ who discreetly collected them on a daily round. To the householders who had contributed to the feeding of the pig the news was not entirely bad, because their action had put them ‘in line for a bit of pork’ as one of them had it - and were that to come about then the ‘bit of pork’ would have made an excellent and eagerly anticipated supplement to the their diet.

It was rumoured that some person - who shall remain unidentified - but who was then disliked by almost everyone except his mother and who would nowadays be regarded as a ‘busybody’ or a ‘jobsworth’, and whose habitual behaviour was such as to make the rumour believable, had told a local Police Constable of the demise of the large white pig, and it was thought that this would be swiftly followed by a visit from a Government approved meat inspector ‘the man from the Ministry’ - as the diet of the entire population was under the direct control of the said Ministry - with the aim of ensuring amongst other things that food hygiene was applied.

So as was required at that time the death was reluctantly reported to the local agent of the appropriate Ministry of the Government and an inspector attended, with the intended aim of determining the cause of death of the unfortunate animal and certifying the corpse to be fit for human consumption. At least that was the shared understanding of the ‘owner’ or ‘keeper’ of the pig and the local butcher, through whose shop it was intended that the various parts of the late pig would be sold, or in other ways, distributed amongst the local community.

Against expectation ‘the man from the Ministry’ - he whose job it was to determine and then declare the cause of death - said that the animal had probably died of such causes that it would be unacceptable for the meat of the said pig to enter the food chain! 

This caused great distress to those connected with disposal of the animal - and to the wider community who had been eagerly anticipating the supplement to their meagre ‘war-time’ diet, that would doubtless become available when the famed pig eventually died and was shared.

Much heated discussion was occasioned by the declaration of ‘the Inspector’, but he insisted that his decision was final - and that the corpse should be buried. And - to make certain that his wishes were carried out - he remained until the disposal site had been chosen, the pig was placed in the necessarily large hole, and the ground restored to the pre-pig state. Only then - did he feel that his duties had been discharged. He went on his way, but those initially concerned with disposal of the pig carcass were far from satisfied, the outcome was not what they had expected.

The discussion between them went on for some hours and continued in the local pub until closing time, when the men went home.

The the erstwhile ‘keeper of the pig’ had by now been determined as the ‘owner’, he and the local butcher were not at the pub that evening and everyone believed that to because they were so upset at the developments of the day - after all they had lost a large investment - it was only reasonable to expect that they were privately ‘drowning their sorrows’, probably at the butchers fine house.

Next morning ‘everyone’ was curious by the ‘spread by word of mouth’ news that ‘in response to the disappointment of the local community’ the butcher and the owner of the pig had gone to great lengths to obtain a supply of a complete pig to replace the one destroyed on the instructions of ‘the man from the Ministry’. In fact it was was said, they had risked the black-out that very night to obtain the animal from a farm some distance away, so concerned were they at the plight of the locals. The ‘word of mouth’ measure was a well established practice within the village - for anything that should be kept within the community - ‘after all’ it was argued ‘the village was just like a big family’ with everyone ‘against the world’ at certain times. Some things just had to be kept private. That ‘deniability’ was integral to the practice was overlooked by those who chose to think about the matter. Perhaps needless to say, the ‘jobsworth’ who had initiated the crisis was not to receive the ‘word of mouth’ message! 

In truth the owner of the pig and the butcher had between them, colluded and under cover of darkness and on the pretext of drowning their sorrows, sneaked to the pig burial site [which they had ‘chosen’ - and manipulated the meat inspector into accepting - knowing even at the point that the corpse was lowered into the grave that they intended the disinterment], dug up the corpse, butchered it on site into moveable pieces and taken it into ‘safe’ allotment buildings from where it could be taken into the butchers shop as soon as possible - fortunately it was winter so the meat would not ‘go-off’ so quickly as it would at other times of year, and restored the burial site to ‘near enough’ it’s former state - bearing in mind that few had seen the site as it was so new.

The two men kept their secret until the very last bit of pig had been sold - then the story ‘leaked out’. That leakage was a deliberate bid for notoriety on the part of one of the men, who shall remain anonymous. Let us just say that ‘it was true to form for him to do that sort of thing’.

After the story leaked out, there was the usual amount of sniffiness from those regrettable few who would be expected to display such behaviour, but on the whole 

 everyone worth bothering about agreed that ‘nobody had been hurt by the pig meat’ - and of course no-one knew if the story was true - or just a figment of the imagination of a well-known local braggart.

Apart from the deliberate leakage - which only happened on a single occasion - neither of the men involved would ever agree that the story was true.

Unfortunate animals

WARNING - THIS ENTRY CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT IS GRAPHIC AND MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME PEOPLE. 

DO NOT READ ONWARDS IF YOU ARE OF A SENSITIVE NATURE.

Perhaps it goes without saying that in days long gone people were more cruel to animals than they are today. Some would say that it was always inevitable as people were not so considerate then as they are now. Those same people might observe that life in general was more brutal.

WW1 caused innumerable deaths and injuries to horses. Around the same time events such as polar exploration also led to the traumatic deaths of animals, mainly horses. Just where did the average person gain experience of such traumatic events, what made them able to be involved in such activities. Perhaps in everyday life, which was such as to involve exposure to various things that now would be unthinkable.

The prime source for what follows was a lady born in 1921, and raised in Dodworth Bottom.

She said a number of things but here are the main ones. Her words have been paraphrased.

Shocking as it may be to those of modern sensibilities, the following needs to be shared. Amongst the things of note are that the animals were slaughtered in the midst of the community, meaning that inevitably many more people were aware of or part of the process - than is common today. Children were permitted to witness what is now done ‘out-of-site’ and earshot in almost all cases.

The site of the slaughter-house is now beneath the playground in Dodworth Bottom. 

They came into Dodworth Bottom [the cattle] from somewhere beyond Pilley Hill, if I ever knew more than that then I have forgotten. The slaughter house was in the centre of the buildings, in fact it was beneath the butchers shop - the frontage of which was on the road that ran through the centre of the community - the road from where Pilley Hill ends and then goes towards Snowhill - in fact the road still runs in exactly the same place. When the butchers shop was there it had an engraved window to allow light in. The slaughter house was sort of in the cellar. The entrance to the slaughter house was from South Street, it was a stone cobbled slope down to a small yard. 

The animals were usually cows. When they got to the top of the hill [Pilley Hill] , they smelled the slaughter house and seemed to know that it was a danger to them. In response they called out, they bellowed loudly and resisted being led down the hill. Usually gangs of men appeared and and pulled on ropes attached to the cow to force it down the hill and down the slope into the slaughter house. Once there it would be killed, and the butcher would dress the corpse.

In about 1950 a cow escaped the slaughter house and in a noisy panic ran towards Silver Street where it entered a house close to the top of the street. The house was a typical terraced home and had two rooms on the ground floor. The terrified creature trampled all before it within the house as it tried to escape. Unverified reports at the time said that it opened its bowels inside the house.

People ran about not knowing what to do, they made a lot of noise that further frightened the critter. Children were taken from the scene and put indoors.

Eventually the men with ropes came and put them around the animals neck. These they used to persuade the animal to leave the house. They were probably led by the butcher who seemed to know about these things.

Once an animal had been led or dragged against its will into the slaughter house a set procedure was followed in all cases. As often as not nobody stopped us kids from watching what happened - they were all either too busy or seemed to take pleasure from watching our reactions. Those involved were all men, it seemed to be regarded as a masculine thing to do - to be involved in the killing. We knew that it was cruel, but after seeing it a few times, it seemed less so, and we gradually got used to it. But I will never get the sound of the animals from my mind as they bellowed in distress.

There was an iron ring set in the floor of the yard or the cellar itself. One of the ropes that had been used to drag the animal was put through the ring, and pulled tight. Sometimes a gang of men were used to pull on the rope until the animal’s head was on the ground.

Then the ‘pole-axing’ took place. A pole-axing hammer was used. It was like a sledge hammer with a thin end, which was driven into the animals head. The ‘slaughter man’ made a mighty blow, lifting the pole-axe above his head and bringing it down with great force. It often took just a single blow. He was swift and accurate and the beast died quickly.

Addendum:

From a different source the following comment was obtained. As above, paraphrasing has taken place, and a sensitivity filter has been applied.

It was said that, occasionally the men in the Miner’s Inn public house close by, would become involved in the slaughtering. Money, betting and drink may have been involved, certainly some party would have had to compensate the slaughterer for his lack of work. On the occasions when this happened, the men in the pub were said to be the worse for drink and would attend the slaughter house in a gang. The designated one would take charge of the pole-axe and the pole-axing. Not being as skilled as the regular slaughter-man the pole-axe would sometime miss its intended spot and was known to end up in the animal’s eye.

Just when this inhumane practice ended is not at present known by the author.

Typically, when first encountered, pit ponies involved in underground coal mining would appear to have a benign manner. Regrettably, occasions arose in which they became involved in serious accident’s.

In the Yorkshire Mining Museum is a device for ending the life of pit ponies when they were unfortunate enough to suffer serious and irreversible injuries in mining accidents. It worked in a similar way to the pole-axe in that it drove a metal tube or bolt into the brain of the unfortunate animal, but in this case the chances of accidental suffering were minimised by the use of a kind of helmet and a guide for the bolt. It was said that the regular handler of the animal would be the one to administer the fatal blow.

As above, just when the practice ceased is not known.

It was said to me that in pre-WW2 days, the cleaning of a chimney in the case of typical terraced house, commonly involved mis-use of an animal, in this case a bird. In these cases a man with a cockerel would climb onto a house roof, and identify the chimney to be ‘swept’.

A man would take the unfortunate cockerel and tie its lower legs together with something like an old clothes-line. Then he would invert and insert the live bird into the chimney and lower it until it reached the bottom of the chimney where it would be retrieved by another man. During its passage down the chimney the bird would of course panic and flap its wings in a vain bid to gain control and mitigation of some kind. In its distress the bird would clean the chimney. Fortunately the said practice had ceased by the end of WW2. 

The Editor

Message to B.N. and A.

Hi and apologies for the delayed response.

I am interested in what you have to say - and will get back to you shortly.

It would be good to share your comments with others - but before I do I will seek your permission. Do I have it? or would you prefer to see in advance what I will publish? My intention is to remove your names unless you tell me to leave them in.

Yours,

The editor

Dodworth Hall - its final use and demise

Situated on Green Road; almost opposite Home Farm, Dodworth Hall in its heyday was the grandest house in the village. It was built for Thomas Thornely Taylor at a time when weaving and the cloth industry was at its peak of prosperity, and Taylor was a leading local entrepreneur in that field. He was also the holder of considerable real estate, mainly it is said towards Hoylandswaine, and he was of his time probably the main benefactor of the the village donating at least one school, a church, and a chapel. Houses in the village bearing his initials TTT were built in his name.

More will be said in another post about him and his family, for now this blog will deal with the matters in the title.

Does anyone have any recollections about the Hall; the nearby open cast mining; the gymnasium that was set up there after the NCB acquired it; and its final demise and demolition.

The Editor

Update on 'Burial sites in the time before 'the church' was built' first published 17 05 2015

Burial sites in the time before 'the church' was built.

When a local 'historian' was asked if it is known where human bodies were put before the current Dodworth St John's Church was built about 150 years ago. The answer given was 'Silkstone Church' - it seems that the latter may have been too small and unlikely that everyone was taken there. So - were other places set aside for use as cemeteries. Do you know the answer?

The Editor

Corporal Punishment at a local school...

A recollection of Public Corporal Punishment.

How old was I? I don’t know. Who took me there? I don’t know. Why did they take me there?  I don’t know. Why don’t I know the answers to these questions? I don’t know. What do I know? 

I know that we were at a local County Secondary Modern School. That was the title by which I knew the place some years later. But that name does not convey the entire story, for there was also an infant school on the premises, in fact housed in the same building as the Secondary School. The whole premises may have had a slightly different name but I don’t know it. The Infant School in that building was the first school I went to. Although I suppose that at the time I did not know my age, I recall being told on many occasions that I was four and a half years old and that I started earlier than some other kids, possibly because I could already read, having been taught at home by my mother – I was told. The one dealt with here is the Secondary School.

I recall that it was an evening, but I do not recall what season it was. I was certainly not cold nor do I recall being hot, or anything about the journey to and from the school. Given the nature of the event I guess that it was the late summer of 1951.

Something else that I recall is that I was taken to another similar sized event in the same place. When the event that is the subject of this examination occurred I was of pre-school age – but only just – and by the time of the other event I was of school age. They were each bigger than anything I had ever attended before – or attended for many years thereafter.

When I say ‘big’ I mean that every inch of space appeared to be occupied, and that a lot of people were stood up at the back and side of the room. The room was ‘the hall’, the main room in the school and the largest room I encountered in my life until I was much older. Largest that is if I don’t count the dining rooms at the Holiday Camps where we went for family holidays in the few years subsequent to then.

The hall was high ceilinged with visible timber vaulting and heavy horizontal steel rods, in tension, holding or pulling the hammer beam vaulting together. Around three sides of the hall, at interval were doors opening directly into classrooms, maybe five or six, each classroom being separated from the Hall with a shoulder height wall topped with multi-paned opaque glass panels. The wall opposite the classrooms was of similar construction. The glass walls were presumably to ensure maximum light penetration. At each end of the hall was an entrance, one primary being nearest to the staff offices, and the secondary being nearest kitchens.

With others I was situated nearly at middle of primary end. My angle of view suggests to me that I was standing, and that would fit with the sombreness of the occasion.

At the opposite end of the hall to me, was a 4 foot high wooden stage, running almost the entire length of the room. Perhaps the stage had been put there purposely for the occasion, maybe it served some other purpose, I imagine that the latter was the case.

The hall was well lit but I do not recall how, but I know that when I knew the place later it had large diameter circular electric lights which were suspended from the beams on long metal tubes or rods.

The ceiling was plaster painted a uniform school off white, as was the beams, and the walls were similarly bland, devoid of decoration and pale green.

The venue having been described, I will now turn to the atmosphere. It was clearly a sombre serious occasion, and all those present appeared to know that. I see men clutching folded cloth caps, and looking down, and women with their hands on the shoulders of children half their height. All were standing looking towards the stage, across the void of empty floor, wooden floor. That was the first time I had ever seen herring bone pattern oak floor tiles, each about 2.5 to 3 inches wide and maybe eight inches long. The pattern of them mesmerised me and I long conjectured about them over the years. My eyes sought out where they ended at the edges of the room, they were finished by a double row of end to end tiles. I thought it was a marvel.

Standing on the stage, towards the left was a senior school pupil. His head was down and he was looking towards his feet, his hands clasped in front of him as if they were held there by handcuffs, which they were not. He was not facing the assembled audience, but toward the centre of the stage. Close by him, but not shielding him from the view of the audience, were two adult males, I think that they were teachers.

A man who I later was to know as ‘The Headmaster’, was standing facing the audience, and further – towards the right of the stage were several men and at least one woman, standing facing the audience. I later became aware, or of the belief, somehow that they were the teachers who worked at the school.

It was a moment of high drama. The audience all looked at the Headmaster, and were silent, giving attention.

Horizontal across his thighs held in both his hands was a curved stick. I was later to learn that this was ‘the cane’. He wore a hairy suit of green-khaki colour, and he had spectacles on. He was not a large man, and of slight build, his back was straight, and he spoke clearly – but trembled with emotion. I now have impression that he was unaccustomed to this situation, and imagine that he had never before done what he was about to do. Certainly I never again saw anything even remotely like what was about to happen.

The Headmaster spoke to the audience. His words were few and to the point. He did not fluster or prevaricate. I don’t know the exact words he used, but the gist was this. He said that the shamefaced boy to his right had been guilty of making a serious sexual assault on a girl, and that he was to be punished for it. He ordered the by now weeping and trembling boy to walk to the centre of the stage – to turn to face the way he had come - and bend down with his hands on his knees. Accompanied by an escort of the two male teachers – the boy who was taller than The Headmaster - hesitantly complied – he continued to look down all the time – and he looked pathetic, humbled, pale and weak. 

His brief explanatory speech over, The Headmaster briskly took off his suit jacket, and handed it to one of the male staff members. Then he walked towards the bended boy and without any further formality - holding it at one end he raised the cane in his right hand – high in the air – and brought it down with all the force he could muster and as fast as he could – it hit the boy across the buttocks – and his knees buckled – but not completely – there was no bravado displayed – the boy sobbed and tears fell. The physical aspect of his ordeal had begun – The Corporal Punishment. The boy recovered slightly and his bent knees straightened. This was a matter not to be rushed - but to be carried out to perfection. One of the two teachers signalled to the Headmaster that he could carry on. He repeated the performance – and as before his feet left the ground as he hit the boy. This time the boy was not so quiet. He yelped with pain – and his knees buckled even further than before - and begged that it stop – it was in vain. Each of the two escorting teachers took an arm and steadied the boy as he again bent and prepared for an excruciating punishing blow. It was not clear whether he was struggling against them or whether they were holding up. A third time – after what seemed like an age – the Headmaster raised and lowered his cane – in just the same manner as before – each time the cane made contact with the boys trouser covered buttocks – the sound was heard at the back of the hall. After this third blow the boys knees did buckle – completely – he fell to the floor in a kneeling position – sobbing furiously – but still not looking any direction but forward.

The head spoke…

People walked silently out of the hall…

The event had ended…

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Did I imagine the entire thing? 

If not then why does no-one else in my acquaintance admit to any knowledge of it?

I have enquired about it for years - and found no-one who acknowledges any memory of it.

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Can you or anyone known to you explain any of the above?

The Editor

Wentworth Castle - a gatepost and a gate and another thing

Wentworth Castle - a gatepost and a gate and some other things

From Hood Green there is a footpath to Wentworth Castle. The footpath starts at a lodge [possible the North Lodge] that once was part of the Castle Estate - but which is now 'private residences' whose privacy must be respected, especially by the curious walker / investigator.

Currently the footpath begins at a farm type gate just beyond the residences. At one time there were two gateposts built of stone, and it is imagined, an ornate hinged gate hung between them.

At some point in past years, the gateposts were dismantled and the gate removed [perhaps it was at about the same time as the Steeple Lodge gateposts encountered a similar fate, and maybe for the same reasons - it is said that military activity at the Castle during WW2 was the reason for the removal of the Steeple Lodge gates.]

Whatever the reason - at least until recently - large parts of the dismantled gateposts were in the adjacent field through which the footpath goes - close by the boundary hedge.

As for the gate - at the same time the gatepost remains were 'discovered' - a rusted metal gate was seen to the left [with the Lodge behind the walker] of the footpath in the undergrowth of a wood - was this the gate that once controlled entry to the estate?


In the aforementioned field is a large tree [chestnut?] that was - within the early part of the last decade - said to be the 'oldest' for many miles around.

Do you know anything more about any of the above?


The Editor

Dodworth Feast

The Dodworth Feast was presumably held at the same time each year - but as I don't recall perhaps you could help out by telling me if I am right or wrong!

The Feast was for many years - perhaps very many years - held at the same place - in a field below the former Horse and Jockey pub [now the Dil Raj restaurant] - it stretched at least as far down the field as what is now land occupied by Council bungalows. When the bungalows were built the Feast or fair moved to the 'Welfare' - or rather the remnants of it did.

In the later years - the stalls and rides and showman's caravans and generators etc. occupied the top part of the field that ran from the High Street to the dyke at the bottom - some say that in earlier times it covered the entire field. Of the latter I have no knowledge - perhaps you can tell me?

The main ride was the 'waltzer' - it was always set up in a prominent position - and was a kind of round-about for 'grown-ups' or perhaps those aspiring to be grown-ups - of both sexes. Instead of 'cocks and hens' or some alternative it had carriages that each held half-a-dozen or so people - and which could - and did - spin around randomly. They were usually full of squealing girls - but occasionally a male would have a go - usually if he was courting, and wished to show to 'show off' to the girl who had captured his heart, or more likely to warn-off potential suitors. Those embryo men would often sit there nonchalantly, trying hard not to smile with delight and attempting to look what is nowadays called 'macho'. That latter term - or whatever was the current version - was most likely to apply to the roustabout type characters who rode on the waltzers apparently to spin the carriages and flirt with the girls! They often demonstrated athletic skills and balancing feats in pursuance of attention from their audience. Of course the fair moved around the area, and at every venue the lads who operated the waltzer would be counted on to do their thing!

Other stalls included - ones that did things with pennies - like require the punter to roll them, hopefully until they fell on a playing card - darts games; hooking floating 'ducks'; and a number involving throwing items like wooden balls at various targets. The main examples of the last type were the 'coconut shy's', where the object was to knock a coconut off its stand by a thrown ball - it was much harder to do than seemed possible!

Along with everything else were food stalls selling unusual confectionary and snacks - and of course the loud traditional music which combined with the chatter of excited youngsters to produce a sort of joyful cacophony!

Underfoot was either grass or wet grass, which the traffic churned into glorious mud!

The University of Sheffield is home to a collection of memorabilia and accounts of the showman's life - it is unique in the UK.

There is however no substitute for your own recollections - which can be shared here if you wish.

The last sentence is a sort of invitation to share your memories!

The Editor

Italians - AN UPDATE ON A PREVIOUS ENTRY...

AN UPDATE ON A PREVIOUS ENTRY…

THURSDAY, 18 SEPTEMBER 2014

Prisoners of war - World War 1 and World War 2

Do you know anything about prisoners of war in our area?

Since the above was written - or maybe before but I don’t remember! - I have read the words submitted by Trevor Denton of Dodworth to the BBC archive project - the views were written in 2005 and I regret not having given them credit before now.

Amongst the interesting things that he said were that Italians were camped at Wentworth Castle / Stainborough Castle.This undated information may indicate that they were there after they joined with the Allies in 1948. At that time they would probably not have been prisoners, but combatants of some sort. It seems unlikely that they were held as ‘prisoners’ at Stainborough at any time, but it is known that soldiers were stationed at Stainborough - and that they were accommodated in tents [the ‘lower ranks’ at least].

As for the comment that they used to rob the food trains travelling through the valley on the Worsborough Bank line - there are some interesting notions about this! For instance - it is known that men from Worsborough, Dodworth and Silkstone Common [perhaps amongst others] robbed the train and that several from Dodworth were caught and sent to jail for it. Mention has been made by another person of Italians being responsible for robbing the food trains.

Might it be then that the Italians were blamed for something that they did not do - and that it was convenient to attribute blame to them, or that it was a useful term to refer to all ‘train robbers’. If they did the robberies they would most likely have come into ‘contact’ with more local robbers! Which begs the question - was there collusion between them and locals?

One local has said that, during WW2, in their house there never tinned salmon - except for the box that a relative ‘acquired’ and hid somewhere unknown. Apparently occasionally a tin from the secret supply was brought out on a Sunday for a family treat!

Do you or anyone you know have anything to share about this story?

The Editor