Archive for December, 2018

GHOSTS OF TEMPLE NEWSAM

December 23, 2018

GHOSTS OF TEMPLE NEWSAM
By Eddie Blackwell
First A bit of the history of Temple Newsam House.

There are records of a Dwelling on this site dating back to the Doomsday Book (1086) approximately 100 years later the site was given to The Christian military organisation The Knights Templar until about 1200, it then passed on to the Darcy family who in the year 1500 built a new Manor House. The original recording in the doomsday book was Anglo-Saxon and spelt Neuthusam, and the name “Temple Newsam” derives from the Anglo-Saxon combine with Temple from The Knights Templar. It was in Royal hands for many years and was passed onto Henry the 8th’s niece and her son Henry (Lord Darnley) was born there in 1545, eventually he married Mary Queen of Scots and the house was sold into private hands. Sir Arthur Ingram bought it and it became his families main residence for almost 300 years, now it’s maintained and owned by The Leeds Corporation with covenants of sale to ensure its preservation for future generations.
Reputed to be the most haunted House in Yorkshire, apparitions seen are, the Blue Lady, a Monk in Brown Habit, a small boy who comes out of a cupboard, a young servant girl who was murdered on the premises, and on occasions howling screams come from the South Wing.
There are now Security Guards, on a round the clock watch to secure the premises which contains priceless treasures. It would be interesting to hear any stories they have to tell from the wee small hours, on these dark pitch black nights.

Christmas Eve Ghost Busting Expeditions.
(when the clock chimes twelve)
Who remembers the No. 20 and 22 Trams, they both went up Selby Road the No. 20 terminus was at the Irwin Arms, (now Lidl) and if memory serves me correct it usually came back as a No. 15 Whingate. The No. 22 went on to its terminus at Temple Newsam and usually came back as the Corn Exchange. There’s now a running track you pass when you take the route the No. 22 Tram went to Temple Newsam, and just above the track a large car park. There used to be a tram stop outside where the car park is today, and in those bygone days, there were two large man made fresh water ponds, probably about 20 ft wide and 40 ft long they were not very deep ponds about 2 ft at the most. It’s said in the 1760’s Capability Brown England’s Greatest Gardener was employed by Viscount Irvine to remodel the grounds and gardens, they were probably ornamental ponds at one time, which had become overgrown and reclaimed by nature. They contained broken bricks and broken bottles all manner of debris as you would expect. Many kinds of wild life, sticklebacks, redbellies (males), frogs, tadpoles and newts, seaweed like plants. All types of insects, flies, blue bottles, bees, wasps, dragonflies, mosquitoes, earwigs, slugs, worms and snails lived in the surrounding habitat, and I recall going there with my older sister on the No. 22 Tram. We’d have a bottle of water or diluted orange, some jam/treacle sandwiches, and two large empty jam jars, string tied around the top, with two fishing nets on bamboo canes. We used to catch the tram opposite the old Library in York Road, a penny half as I recall. It was a great afternoon out on a sunny day, and there were always a lot more children of the same age. Anything we caught was always returned to nature before boarding the tram for home.

The Fairy Glen
It was there that I remember first hearing about the ghosts in and around Temple Newsam House, my sister used to try and cover my ears when they were telling the stories, she knew I’d be nervous, and probably scared, (well there was a war going on you know, a blackout and sirens going off in the night, then ghosts on top, the last straw that broke the camel’s back) but excited at the same time. They were all talking about a Blue Lady, and a figure in a Monk’s Habit, I didn’t want to be around there after dark thank you, sounded spooky to me at seven years old. Life went on as usual and I’d forgotten all about the ghosts of Temple Newsam within a few days.
School had restarted after the holidays, and there was talk that the war was reaching its conclusion, “V” day was on its way, and all those scary thoughts evaporated from the conscience mind with the prospect of your Dad being demobbed. When Dad Came home from the war in 1947, he took us all to Scarborough with his demob money. The first holiday we’d ever had, it was like a dream come true the world was full of ice cream and candy floss, the future was secure. Eventually the euphoria wore off and life was restored to a normal pace.
We moved houses in 1950 and went to live with my Grandad, in Osmondthorpe. At the weekends if conditions were reasonable, Dad and I would go walking late at night from the house where we lived, across Halton More and up into Temple Newsam via the bridle path, through the golf course, and around the grounds of the Mansion. We never experienced any sightings of the ghosts or the Blue Lady, although on one occasion looking in through the ground floor windows on the north side, we both felt a cold presence is the only way to describe it, nothing visual but we thought we were being observed. At that time there were no Night Guards or Security, and we peered through the windows into the blackness hoping to see a ghostly figure, but nothing ever transpired. Then we’d proceed on our way down Selby Road, onto our estate and back home to bed.
Some years later my Sister got married, and they bought a newly built house in the Dunhill Estate, at the bottom of Selby Road. A similar distance from Temple Newsam as from our house in Osmondthorpe. They had their family in that house, three daughters and a son. At the festive season it was our tradition on Christmas Eve to gather at their house exchange gifts for the children and have a few drinks in celebration of the forthcoming event. All the children were of course excited, and my Brother in law Roy, and I would take them out for a walk to let off steam, trying to tire them a little in the hopes that they would go to sleep when we got back, then we could have a quiet celebration. As you can imagine the destination was always Temple Newsam, we’d all have a race around the running track, then up to the House have a wander around looking through the windows then back home. On one occasion someone said they saw a light in one of the rooms, but I think it was his imagination at work we were all looking into the same room, and he was the only one to see anything.
This became an annual tradition for many years and eventually we were joined by the children’s friends in the local area. The Christmas Eve Ghost Busting Expedition it became nicknamed and we’d always talk about seeing ghosts through the ground floor windows to add excitement to the walk, which was taking on the proportions of an adventure as the years passed, and the children became teenagers. Our races around the Running track continued, but became more and more competitive, as you would expect young legs were getting stronger and on one occasion I recall coming into the home straight and hearing footsteps pounding up behind me, and I was overtaken by the young boyfriend of one of my nieces. (they eventually got married and now have children of their own) Then it was up to the House to carry out our annual Ghost Busting visit. I remember one year by the South Wing we did hear some loud screams and we stood firm as a group, but it only takes one to break and we were off running like the wind, nobody beat me on that occasion, I stopped by the old Tram terminus and the group gathered all around, checking that everyone was there, but we had one missing, I instructed everyone to remain where they were with Roy, and made my way back to find the missing one, he’d fallen and hurt his knee, I helped him up and he was OK, but I’m sure I could hear a faint sound of cackling laughter coming from the South Wing. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and we hurried along to join the others at the terminus. Then we all made our way back to the estate as a group ensuring everyone got home safely.
Regrettably that was the last occasion for the Christmas Eve Ghost Busting Expedition, all the children were growing older, and we weren’t getting any younger. My brother in law Roy who was always a co-partner on these adventures, passed away 26th July this year he was 84 years old. Whenever we met we would always reminisce about our midnight walks to Temple Newsam House with the children, we were never rich in monetary terms, but then you can’t buy the riches we shared.
Just to finish off I’ve written a short poem about Christmas, hope you like it.
Ed’s Ramblings.
Christmas Eve.
The night before Christmas all children in bed,
Pitch black outside and the pets have been fed,
Not even a whisper or a sigh from the trees,
And no flags are fluttering there isn’t a breeze,
A faint swish can be heard just now and then,
But it isn’t a sound that’s being made by men,
Santa is coming and he’s well on his way,
And has lots to do before the start of the day,
Rudolf is leading his nose is quite red,
But he’s not been drinking it must be said,
His nose is aglow with a feeling of cheer,
Excitement that Christmas day is so near,
Onward and onward we’ve got to keep going,
And it shines the way when his nose is glowing,
All over the World before the Sun shines it’s light,
Now it’s starting to snow it’s a wonderful sight,
Snowflakes are falling without making a sound,
There covering the landscape and all around,
The branches of trees are covered in snow,
The Moons peeping out there’s a silvery glow,
What a beautiful sight for the World to behold,
Keep warm everyone it’s getting terribly cold,
But hark there’s awakening as Santa draws near,
The cattle start lowing but there’s nothing to fear,
And your presents are left as he speeds on his away,
Then Old Jack Frost starts to spread Christmas day…

Thank you everyone Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy New Year to you all…

A BUSY LIFE

December 1, 2018

A BUSY LIFE
By Doug Farnill
(East Leeds lad now in Australia)

A BUSY LIFE
In 1947 I started work as an apprentice at Geo Bray and Co. One of my fellow apprentices and close friend was Jack Bosomworth. (I would love to be in contact with Jack someday to compare our life stories). One day, Jack asked if I would like a weekend job, helping him and his father, Mr Bosomworth – I never knew his first name – erect garden sheds and garages. My apprentice pay was about 24 shillings in the old money, and I gave most of that to Mam, who allowed me a few shillings spending money. So, I jumped at the chance of acquiring a few extra bob.
The sheds and garages consisted of wooden frames to which fibro-cement (aka asbestos) sheets were nailed. A seven foot by five- foot garden shed was a fairly small job and Mr Bosomworth could manage one on his own. A 16- by 8-foot garage with a concrete floor, however, was a different matter. Jack and I would nail the frames, cut the asbestos sheets to fit, and nail the panels to the wooden frames with galvanised nails. We cut the asbestos by scraping a groove down the required line and breaking the sheet over a straight edge. The nail holes had to be drilled, otherwise the asbestos sheet would split. What with scraping, drilling, and hammering, there was lots of asbestos dust floating around.
I worked every other Saturday or so for 5 years before emigrating to Australia. In the beginning I took 10 shillings for my day’s pay, and later negotiated 15 shillings. Despite being frugal, by 1952 I still needed to borrow money for my sea trip to Australia.
I have survived 70 years since my regular encounters with the asbestos dust and count my lucky stars. I worked hard, learned a lot, earned not so much, enjoyed great mateship, and still look back with some nostalgia at what Jack and I used to achieve. We polished our techniques to eliminate waste, made special scraping tools out of old metal files, and perfected mixing batches of concrete in an old galvanised bath tub. In retrospect, I’m not confident that our sheds and garages would stand without wobble for more than a few years, nor am I sure that our thin concrete (in cement strength and actual thickness) would have stood much weight without cracking, but I never heard any complaints.
A 43.75 hour working week at Geo Brays, a 7-8 hour Saturday job, three nights a week night-school, Saturday nights at the Mecca or Barnbow or Starlight Room, and Sundays with the Leeds Atlas Cycling Club, how was it possible? It was a busy life for a Yorkshire lad. If you told a young person these days, they would never believe you!
Seriously, if anyone knows Jack Bosomworth I would love to hear. And, it would be nice to hear some more of the part-time jobs that we used to do in the old days.

Great tale Doug. This sets up a stall for anyone else to send tales of their after school or part time jobs. If anyone has any information concerning hack Bosomworth please send a comment to this site and we will try and put Jack or his descendants in touch with Doug after all these years – I’m sure Doug would love that.

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