The Northern Weekly Salvo

From Th’Edge O’Leet

Incorporating  Slaithwaite Review of Books, Weekly Notices, Sectional Appendices, Tunnel Gazers’ Gazette and Northern Umbrella. Descendant of Teddy Ashton’s Northern Weekly.

No. 251  March  11h 2018

Salveson’s nakedly political digest of railwayness, tripe and secessionist nonsense from Up North. Sometimes weekly, often not; but definitely Northern. Read by normal Hawaiians, the highest officers of state, Whitmanites, steam punks, yes women, no men, gay Swedenborgians, cat-spotters, discerning sybarites, bi-guys, pie-eaters, tripe dressers, nail artists, self-managing VIMTO drinkers, truculent Northerners, grumpy Norwegians, absurd Marxists, members of the clergy and the toiling masses. All views expressed are my own and usually nobody else’s. Official journal of the Station Cat Improvement Network, Pacer Dining Club and Station Buffet Society. Full of creative ambiguity, possibly. Promoting moderate rebellion and sedition, within reason.

“we are far more united and have far more in common with each other than things that divide us.” – Jo Cox, maiden speech in House of Commons, June 3rd 2015

General Gossips: Salvo u-turn denied

Hello, here’s a shortened but hopefully enjoyable Salvo 251, mainly about trials and tribulations north of the border. In Salvo 250 I announced the intention to stop emailing Salvoes, relying instead on twit-face as one reader calls social media. Maybe it’s that many readers are of a certain age who regard e-mail as the very height of modern technology and fear to go beyond (like me) – there was what best can be described as a reader backlash, revolt even, at the very idea of not getting their Salvo emailed. Now if I was perhaps more commercially-minded I’d say OK, subscribe for £50 a year and I’ll email it, or even post the thing to you if you wanted, if you paid for the extra stamps. But nah, more trouble than it’s worth really. So those of you who objected to the withdrawal of the emailed Salvo can rest assured. Of course, a Salvo spokesman vehemently denied this was a ‘U-Turn’, not even a U-Boat nor a U-Bend.

Simple Salvo Says

This issue is very much focussed on the recent weather. Hasn’t it been fun? I like extreme weather and we’ve had plenty of it. Yes, I do feel for the people who got stuck for hours on the motorway network, but part of me wonders ‘was your journey really necessary’? We do have a tendency to think we can drive our cars where and whenever where we want and if the road happens to be blocked by several feet of snow it’s, well, an outrage. Someone else’s fault. And I suppose the same goes for train travel. We can’t say we weren’t warned. Of course there were people with essential journeys to make who just threw caution to the winds, or snows, and set off from places like Kyle of Lochalsh determined to complete their journey to places like, well, Croston.

Snow clearing at Pitlochry station…trains ran nearly as normal on Highland Main line – welld one Inverness and Perth crews and Network Rail p-way gangs

The fact it took those people four days to complete their journey is neither here nor there, though I’ve lost track of the point I was trying to make. Oh yes – it’s really about personal responsibility, a rather old-fashioned concept that is politically out of favour these days. It’s always someone else’s fault.  I even received an email from some organisation wanting my ‘snow horror story’ about rail travel, suggesting the rail companies were trying to avoid compensating passengers for their ‘nightmare’ (perhaps the most over-used word of the early 21st century) journeys. People were given plenty of warning about the disruption and if people (like me) decided to carry on anyway it was really up to ourselves to sort out alternative arrangements when the trains stopped running. If I have one whinge it is the length of time it has taken to get some parts of the network running again. Yes, I know that conditions have been horrendous but it’s not good when the M74 south from the Scottish Central belt was perfectly clear on Saturday but trains still aren’t running. It wasn’t like this in the old days – trains ploughed through (and sometimes got stuck) but the idea that both main lines from England to Scotland should be blocked for several days is remarkable. Hats off to the people who’ve been blasting through drifts with snowploughs, as well as rail staff who’ve worked hard to keep their own stations clear of snow. But questions should be asked as to whether it was really necessary to have lines closed for so long. I hope I can be proved wrong, that the West Coast main Line really was so severely snowbound that trains couldn’t run for five days. But I can’t help thinking that some old hand p-way men will be shaking their heads in disbelief and muttering that “we’d have had that line open days ago”.  And when rail passengers are not able to use trains and forced to use cars, is that not a risk in itself?

Earthquake in Farnworth, tremors felt in Kearsley as well

Following the last Salvo ( and my reflections on the state of Farnworth, the people of the town have revolted. New political party Farnworth and Kearsley First scored a convincing win in a ward by-election on Thursday, defeating the Labour candidate by 235 votes. In a ward which is classic Labour territory, this is a significant development, reflecting frustration at decades of perceived neglect by the ruling Labour Council. The successful candidate Paul Sanders made a conciliatory speech hoping to work with the two other (Labour) councillors. Back in the 1980s I was involved in a campaign for a town council covering Farnworth and Kearsley, which was vigorously opposed by the then Labour leadership in Bolton but strongly supported by lcoal Labour activists in Farnworth, including my good friend Noel Spencer, who went on to become Mayor of Bolton and stands down as councillor this May. Maybe those small seeds have finally come up, a bit like the daffodils in my garden. But just taken longer. Good look to Paul and I hope he can work positively with the many good people on Bolton Council.

Denis Pye

I’ve just heard the news that my good friend Denis Pye has died. He’d been ill for some time and passed away on Friday, in Bolton. Denis was a remarkable, and very gentle, man. We had some great times together, on the early Bolton Clarion runs and many other trips and events, including the Winter Hill trespass commemoration in 1982. My heart goes out to his partner Wendy who has worked so very hard to support Denis over a very difficult time. In the next issue there will be a fuller tribute to his life and work.

Bolton gets in gala mode

Plans for Bolton station’s community gala are coming along nicely. The event marks the 50th anniversary of the end of steam at Bolton loco shed (9K, or 26C for those older readers) but also the present-day role of rail in the community and the investment going into the local network. The gala, on Saturday June 30th, will feature stalls, music, food, theatre performances and general bonhomie. We’re hoping to have a vintage Bolton Corporation bus and a steam miniature railway. We’re getting lots of interest from potential stall-holders and performers. We were helped by a two-page feature in The Bolton News on Saturday –

The event is being co-ordinated by Bolton Station Community Development Partnership, a sort of new model of rail partnership for a larger station. Those involved include Northern, Network Rail, Bolton Council, Bolton University, Octagon Theatre, Bolton at Home and Bolton CVS. Plus several individuals, arts and community groups. If you want to have a stall please contact or c/o The Salvo.

Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to Rail Travel: how I enjoyed my beastly experience

The severe weather last week posed problems for many thousands of rail travellers, including myself. I’d been up to Skye to see my daughter and grand-childer and planned to head south on the Wednesday, with a stay at Pitlochry that night. The following day I was billed to speak at the Highland Main Line Community Rail Partnership meeting. There were forecasts of severe weather ‘on the way’ but when I left Kyle of Lochalsh on the 12.09 to Inverness the weather was fine and sunny.

From a carriage window…near Achanalt

We had a bit of snow around Garve but nothing exceptional for a Highland winter. I made the tight connection at Inverness thanks to good work by the train crew. We had been informed by the guard that the 14.54 would terminate at Perth owing to bad weather further south.  Not a problem for me as I was getting off at Pitlochry, north of Perth. We were again told as we (hastily) changed trains that the service would terminate at Perth and there were no onward connections, either by train or bus. Most people had got the message and very few on the train were risking going south to Glasgow or Edinburgh.

The run over Druimuachdar was dramatic, with a fair bit of snow but not a problem for our ScotRail class 170, which pulled in to Pitlochry pretty much on time. I left my fellow travellers going south with the hope that they’d get home that night, somehow. For myself, I was lodged in the very fine Atholl Palace Hotel as a guest of the CRP.

The lovely Atholl Palace from one of the woodland walks

What a lovely place it is, with a fascinating history recorded in the hotel museum (how many hotels have their own museum?). The hotel is set in large grounds and I was able to have a stroll through the woods before night fell. At that stage there was only a dusting of snow, but it started to set in later in the evening.

I checked on the various railway websites and it was beginning to look like my planned journey home on the Thursday would be difficult. Frankly, impossible. Both the West Coast and East Coast main lines were closed and nothing seemed to be running from Perth, other than the Highland Main Line north to Inverness. It was becoming obvious that the ‘beast from the east’ was no weather forecasting hype but what was really quite a severe snowstorm which was bringing central Scotland to a standstill.

It has to be said that there are far worse places to be stranded than Pitlochry, even more so when you’re staying at the Atholl Palace. It was clear there was no chance of getting any further south than Perth on the Friday so I settled in to a day of wandering round the town, having coffee at the Festival Theatre and keeping an eye on NRES for news of when trains might start running again. The only services that seemed to be operating normally were the Highland main line trains between Perth and Inverness, which passed over the highest stretch of railway in the UK, an area well used to heavy snow.

Despite the opulence of the Atholl Palace and its friendly team of staff, plus the various delights of Pitlochry, I was determined that I’d get home one way or another. So I set off on the Friday morning, catching the 08.18 to Perth which was on time.

The 0818 to Perth pulls in….

There was a handful of other passengers making the journey south, but still nothing running beyond Perth. My first option was a coach from Perth to Glasgow or Inverness. The coach station is just round the corner from the station so I walked through the slush and snow to find there was nothing running. My second option was taking a taxi out to the M90 and starting hitching. There was no sign of any taxis outside the station, which was unusual but not surprising given the weather, which was noticeably worse than in sub-tropical Pitlochry.  Delightful though Perth is, I didn’t want another night in a hotel so set off walking down the road out of town. I found a good enough spot to hitch from and within a few minutes my luck was in. A friendly Yorkshire arboriculturalist, now working at the local agricultural college, offered me a lift out to the M80, actually going a bit further than his planned trip to Tesco.

It was starting to snow again and traffic was very light. However, within 10 minutes a car stopped. Unusually in my earlier hitch-hiking days, it was a woman on her own who introduced herself as ‘Emma’, I think. Turns out she was an Australian beauty therapist/nail artist living in Perth, on her way to Edinburgh to collect her daughter from university. Yes, Edinburgh would do very nicely and Emma very kindly dropped me off outside Haymarket station. During our hour’s journey I learnt much about the skills of nail artistry, all of which I was previously ignorant.

Scotrail was running an emergency service between Edinburgh and Glasgow and I only had to wait a few minutes for a near-empty six-car train to take me to Queen Street.

Rob with snowbound car…we soon rescued the Dawsholm (65D) machine

I’d already checked to see if anything as running East Coast from Edinburgh but there wasn’t. Plan B was to stay at my friends Polly and Rob in Maryhill if there was nothing running south on the West Coast main Line from Glasgow.

Sure enough, the helpful team of Virgin Trains staff at Central re-iterated that nothing was heading south that day, and to check again tomorrow. So it was a taxi up Kelvindale Road. The main roads were reasonably passable but side roads weren’t, so it was short walk down to my host’s residence which was under over a foot of snow.

I’d made good time. After leaving Pitlochry just after 8.00 I was settled in to my next place of shelter by 13.00.

Snow Castle in Botanic Gardens grounds…surely it deserves an award?

Time to have a snack and then a stroll along the Kelvin to Great Western Road and coffee in one of the rather nice coffee shops in this trendy part of the city. We headed back via the lovely Botanical gardens, watching a group of students create a magnificent ‘snow castle’.

There was still no sign of anything moving south of Glasgow but there were rumours that the East Coast main Line might be running on Saturday. Saturday morning came and the railway websites were still showing ’nowt runnin’ so it was a case of more desperate measures. With a bit of gentle arm twisting my host Rob gave me a lift out to the Bothwell services on the M74, near Motherwell. First we had to dig the car out of its snowbound cocoon and then negotiate the lane, which had been gritted by then. Rob dropped me off at the southbound exit from the services and I hopefully stuck my thumb out to the two or three cars that passed in the next fifteen minutes. There wasn’t much moving.

The walk along the Kelvin, in the heart of central Glasgow, is rich in railway dereliction and industrial history

Then a pick-up van stopped, and – picked me up. “Where are you goin’ lad?” the Lancashire accent enquired. “Anywhere south,” I replied. “Will Lancaster do then?” It did nicely. I was dropped off close to Lancaster station just after 12.00. Road conditions on the M74/M6 were actually very good. We went through a few drifts around Beattock and Shap and saw plenty of abandoned cars, buses and lorries. But the conditions by Saturday morning weren’t at all bad, and there was hardly any traffic. So I said goodbye to my scaffolding friend and his pick-up truck. He was off to see his mum who was in hospital, so I hope she’s doing alright. I was able to get a southbound train a few minutes later and was in Preston for 13.00 where my lift was awaiting. I could have completed the journey by train but for the RMT strike!

So my thanks to the Yorkshire arboriculturalist, Emma the beauty therapist and the scaffolding supplier from Perthshire. Not forgetting Rob and Linda for their lifts. Thanks also to John Yellowlees for keeping me updated on the rail situation north of the border and Sally and Dugald for their hospitality in Pitlochry. I enjoyed my stay at The Atholl Palace immensely and my thanks to the staff and management for their hospitality. I’ll be back. Was I was the only person who actually got a really enjoyable experience out of ‘The Beast from The East’.

International Women’s Day – celebrations at Manchester Victoria

Victoria station was the setting for a very special event on International Women’s Day – the launch of a booklet called Women Who Wander. It’s a production from the ever-dynamic team at Community Rail Lancashire, spear-headed by Daisy Chapman-Chamberlain. It comprises a number of poems and stories by women of all ages (but mostly at the younger end) about their lives and railways. There are some great contributions and I hope the publication gets widely disseminated. Just take this one from Omayma at Whalley range 11-18 High School:

A Wandering Woman

I am a woman

a woman who wanders,

powerful and strong, just like the thunder

I Follow my dreams and I follow my heart,]

using my brain and the knowledge I’ve gained,

following the path that the suffragettes paved.

In the far distance I hear the chugging of the train,

such an annoying pain,

despite the amplitude, a show of gratitude,

fior taking me tot he places I want to go.

After a long journey, a day full of sightseeing,

I climb on the train,

guaranteed to do the same,

all over again.

See ….

Wot about us Men?

A boringly familiar refrain from some men about ‘International Women’s Day’ is ‘why not an International Man’s Day’?’ (apparently there is one, on November 19th, but nobody hears about it). A suitable retort could be that all days are ‘international men’s day’ when you look at the massive imbalance of power in every country across the world. Men hold the reins of power in government and in most professions. So it’s great to see women challenging those inequalities. International Women’s Day has become a day in which women in all sections of society can celebrate their achievements and make some modest inroads towards creating a fairer society. But there is an issue in terms of men and masculinity which needs to be thought about. In yesterday’s Guardian there’s a long feature about ‘male-ness’, based round a ‘men’s movement’ that began in the States. I’m not sure I’d want to go to one of their meetings, but maybe that just highlights my own problems. Not sure. But I don’t want to indulge in hours of male guilt, thanks all the same.

What I would be interested in though is a debate about ‘masculinity’ in this age in which we live. Whilst the nature of femininity has changed, and continues to change, masculinity shows little sign of budging, other than the growth of resentment amongst some men about ‘bolshy women’. Masculinity, according to Wikipedia, is about power: “Traits traditionally viewed as masculine in Western society include courage, independence, violence, and assertiveness. ‘Machismo’ is a form of masculinity that emphasizes masculinity and power and is often associated with a disregard for consequences and responsibility.”  So much for the traditional definition, but that has been challenged as traditional male jobs disappear and more women are beginning to take their place in once all-male bastions. But there isn’t a positive idea of being a man today that replaces it.

A report by mental health charity CALM (Campaign Against Living Miserably) paints a different picture of the modern man who is struggling, unable to express their feelings of loneliness and despair.

Sir Norman Wrassle, chairman of the Tripe Marketing Board – typical middle class man? Smug, arrogant, balding…or anarchic, sardonic revolutionary hiding behind a mask of tripe and nonsense?

Their chief executive Jane Powell told The Telegraph “Men need to talk before they hit a wall in a crisis or feel they are at the end of the road. The normality of women freely discussing their troubles is undoubtedly a factor in declining rates of female suicide and underlines the need for a gender-based strategy in suicide prevention. So far, government and society has failed to act on this self-inflicted yet preventable slaughter of our husbands, partners, brothers and sons.”

So a new masculinity has to include an ability to talk more about feelings and not be ashamed about being depressed, lonely or insecure. But does a new masculinity mean that men should just become more feminine? I’m not so sure about that. But it’s easier definite a ‘new masculinity’ more by what it shouldn’t be (any more) than what it should become. Gentler, more reflective, more considerate? Less aggressive? Yes. But weaker, less independent and less ‘courageous’ (whatever that might mean)?  Less sure. And what else? Reader’s views are welcome on this burning topic.

More celebrations: Heart of Wales Line

The ‘birthday special’ to launch the Herat of Wales Line 150th celebrations is on Friday March 23rd, leaving Shrewsbury at 10.09. It’s not a ‘special’ as such, it’s the service train which leaves Crewe at 09.14. But it will be a bit special, with on-train performances, a trolley service and the launch of a souvenir brochure marking the 150th anniversary. Anyone can come – join us for all or part of the way. You can hop off at Llandrindod and get the train back to Shrewsbury or make a circuit via Swansea and Cardiff come back on ‘The North and West’ route via Hereford. There are circular tickets available to do it at reasonable cost. More details about the 150th events at The Heart of Wales Line Development Company is still looking for more offers of help from local artists and musicians. All enquiries to Moira Davidson at

The Year 1904: When Buffalo Bill Came to Rochdale  by Richard Lysons

In these days of mass and social media, it is easy to underestimate the sheer power of the visit of a live show to a provincial town at the start of the last century. Without radio or television, live performances were the only form of mass entertainment. Cinema was still in its infancy and most films were one- reelers lasting only a few minutes. It took until the beginning of World War One for cinema to become important.

Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show had toured all over the USA, but his first visit to Britain was in 1887, the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. Her Majesty, still mourning the loss of her husband in 1861, showed a keen interest in this attraction. She even requested a private ‘royal command performance’ of the show. The London shows at Earls Court were a huge success, bringing a recreation of the Wild West to people in Britain for the first time.

Buffalo Bill – his real name was Colonel William Cody – had had an extraordinary life before all this; he had worked as a Pony Express rider, a gold miner, a scout during the American Civil War and, as his nickname suggests, a hunter of buffalo. He later turned to show business and in 1882 established his Wild West Show.

Hel led a troupe of performers, technicians and animal handlers. Annie “Get Your Gun” Oakley, a famed sharpshooter, was part of the show along with Red Indians, cowboys, “rough riders of the world” as well as horses, buffalo and wild horn cattle. Buffalo Bill, thanks to careful marketing, became a household name and his image – with his long hair, pointed beard and cowboy hat – was known to all.

In December 1887 the Wild West Show established a base at Manchester Racecourse just outside Salford and stayed there until the following April. “The world’s largest theatre” had been constructed for the show, measuring 600 feet long , 200 feet wide and 80 feet from floor to ceiling. Over 1,000 feet of piping was installed to heat the building powered by a 30 horsepower steam boiler. Even the Indians’ tents were heated by these pipes! Excursions came to the show from all over the North of England with special trains put on.

The Wild West Show returned to Britain in 1891 and 1892, playing large towns and cities across the UK. A decade later, from Boxing Day 1902, there was a “Final Farewell” Tour of England and Wales. This started in London and moved onto Manchester for three weeks in April 1903. The show travelled on to over 90 other towns, mostly playing for just one night each.

The logistics of these British tours beggar belief. Three trains pulled a total of 150 carriages around the country. These carried a portable arena; tons of scenery; props and lighting equipment. Within hours of these trains pulling into a town on tour, a canvas city was set up at the showground. After a matinee and an evening show each day, the canvas city was dismantled and returned to the station. 180 men were employed just to do this huge and difficult task.

An advance publicity team would visit each town ahead of the show, booking advertisements in local newspapers, sticking up posters and creating interest. By the time that the Wild West Show came into town, everyone would have known about it.

In 1904 the Wild West Show reappeared  billed as “Positively The Last And Final Farewell Tour ” of Britain which this time turned out to be correct. The show started in Stoke -on-Trent on April 24 and ran through until late October, visiting over 130 different towns. By mid-September, Buffalo Bill’s company was in Carlisle and it travelled down the Cumbrian coast before touring all over Lancashire.  This series of “one nighters” is exhausting just to read about, but the tour – with its huge entourage – was only possible because the railway network was so extensive. Without this, it would have been impossible to move the equipment and personnel from town to town.

The trains arrived at Rochdale Station on the morning of Thursday October 6th. The showground was sited on fields on Milnrow Road adjoining the Athletic Grounds (later used by Hornets). This area – now built over – is close to where Morrisons car park is now. The animals and performers would have travelled the last part of the journey along Milnrow Road with the heavy equipment carried by horse and cart. This in itself must have been quite a spectacle with 800 men and 500 horses in transit! The railway carriages would have stayed in the many goods sidings that were in Rochdale, ready for the return of the equipment and performers.

After the show, within an hour, some of the equipment was already being taken back to the station to be packed into the trains. Obviously, after so many months touring Britain, the staff were incredibly well organised at doing this. This continued into the early hours of the next day. By half past two on Friday morning, the third and last train left for Oldham.

The tour ended two weeks later and the Wild West Show returned to the USA, sailing from Liverpool to New York. The rest of Buffalo Bill’s life was less spectacular; bad investments caused him financial problems and he merged his company with the Pawnee Bill Show. Later still, he joined a circus but went bankrupt and died in debt in January 1917.

Note: I have used the term “Red Indians” for the Native Americans for historical reasons; all the history books and contemporary sources used this. There is no intention to give offence.

Author’s thanks to Rochdale Local Studies. For more, see  This is article is a shortened version from Style magazine, with author’s permission)

Salvo’s Travelling Post Office

Letters have been delayed owing to extreme weather conditions. A full postbag of letters, complaints and rants will feature in the next issue.

Crank Quiz: Why no female Sam Gingell or Bill Hoole? Ditto…. Ditto…….

Answers in next issue but still open for comments

Special Traffic Notices

Saturday March 17th; 7.30. Shama Rahman at Bolton Socialist Club. Brilliant sitar player and singer-song writer. £12 on the door.

May 6th: Blackstone Edge Gathering: celebrate the 1842 Chartist gathering! Walk from Littleborough station. Details to follow but book the date.

June 30th: Bolton Station Community Gala 10.30 – 4.00

The Salvo Publications List

The following are all available from The Salvo Publishing HQ, here at 8 Moorhey Cottages, Bretherton, Leyland PR26 9AE. Cheques should be made out to ‘Paul Salveson’ though you can send cash if you like but don’t expect any change. Bottles of whisky, old bound volumes of Railway Magazine, numberplates etc. by negotiation.

‘Lancashire’s Romantic Radical – the life and writings of Allen Clarke/Teddy Ashton‘ (2009). The story of Lancashire’s errant genius – cyclist, philosopher, unsuccesful politician, amazingly popular dialect writer. Normal Price £15  – can now offer it for £10 with free postage. There are a few hardback versions left – Normal price £25  – now at £15 with free postage. This book outlines the life and writings of one of Lancashire’s most prolific – and interesting – writers. Allen Clarke (1863-1935) was the son of mill workers and began work in the mill himself at the age of 11. He became a much-loved writer and an early piopneer of the socialist movement. He wrote in Lancashire dialect as ‘Teddy Ashton;’ and his sketches sold by the thousand. He was a keen cyclist and rambler; his books on the Lancashire countryside – ‘Windmill Land’ and ‘Moorlands and Memories’ are wonderful mixtures of history, landscape and philosophy.

‘With Walt Whitman in Bolton – Lancashire’s Links to Walt Whitman‘. This charts the remarkable story of Bolton’s long-lasting links to America’s great poet. Price £9.90 including post and packing. New edition published in May 2016. Bolton’s links with the great American poet Walt Whitman make up one of the most fascinating footnotes in liteary history. From the 1880s a small group of Boltonians began a correspondence with Whitman and two (John Johnston and J W Wallace) visited the poet in America. Each year on Whitman’s birthday (May 31) the Bolton group threw a party to celebrate his memory, with poems, lectures and passing round a loving cup of spiced claret. Each wore a sprig of lilac in Whitman’s memory. The group were close to the founders of the ILP – Keir Hardie, Bruce and Katharine Bruce Glasier and Robert Blatchford. The links with Whitman lovers in the USA continue to this day.

‘Northern Rail Heritage’. A short introduction to the social history of the North’s railways. Price £6.00. The North ushered in the railway age  with the Stockton and Darlington in 1825 followed by the Liverpool and Manchester in 1830. But too often the story of the people who worked on the railways has been ignored. This booklet outlines the social history of railways in the North. It includes the growth of railways in the 19th century, railways in the two world wars, the general strike and the impact of Beeching.

Will Yo’ Come O’ Sunday Mornin? The Winter Hill Mass Trespass of 1896?. The story of Lancashire’s Winter Hill Trespass of 1896. 10,000 people marched over Winter Hill to reclaim a right of way. Price: £5.00 (not many left). The Kinder Scout Mass Trespass of 1932 was by no means the first attempt by working class people to reclaim the countryside. probably the biggest-ever rights of way struggle took place on the moors above Bolton in 1896, with three successive weekends of huge demonstrations to reclaim a blocked path. Over 12,000 took part in the biggest march. The demonstrations were led by a coalition of socialists and radical liberals and Allen Clarke (see above!) wrote a great song about the events – ‘Will Yo’ Come O’ Sunday Mornin’?’ Only a couple left.

 ‘Songs of a Northerner‘  by Jo Barnes. Photos by Paul Salveson. Price £3.50 inc postage  – please make cheques payable to ‘The Jo Barnes Fund’. A lovely collection of Jo’s poems written in the two years before she died; about landscape, emotions and day dreams.

You can probably get a better idea from going to my website: