Ilkley Rocks

Visiting the ‘Get Wet, Get Well’ exhibition at the Manor House, I was struck by the content of some of Fred Reynolds’ cartoons, published in (presumably) the Gazette or the Free Press during the first decade of the last century.

This was a time when there was considerable disquiet about the amount of money being spent on new public buildings (the Town Hall and Kings Hall), which was being raised from the taxpayer with only the slightest nod of the head towards democracy. It was a time when there were real concerns about changes being made to the moor to take away the ‘wildness’ and make it suitable for visitors. It was also a time when concerns were being expressed over late-night noise, particularly in the form of late-night drinking (and the far greater number of drinking establishments then available) and fireworks (‘being released every night’).

All of which sounds terribly familiar. Some of the less intelligent members of our parish (supported by various of the councillors) are campaigning against extending pub opening hours. They’re talking of the increase in anti-social behaviour, the problems of vandalism and noise. All of which might be true, but are nothing new. Vandalism has been a constant worry since Ilkley became a resort town (and the working classes trooped over from Bradford every Bank Holiday); fountains and tea rooms alike have been forced to close. Not in the last decade, but a hundred years ago.

It’s the basic faustian pact made by the elders of the Parish as the hydropathy craze retreated. Bringing money into the town, letting it survive as a town, means an acceptance that on certain days of the year, there will be trouble, there will be vandalism and there will be noise. If you don’t like it, move out of the centre.

What irritates me is that number of citizens who can’t see further than the end of the warts on their noses. Shut down the visitors, and you shut down the town. The economy starts to collapse and within a decade it’s a commuter village for Leeds. That you don’t have to have even a basic understanding of local history or the fundamentals of economics to be a Parish Councillor isn’t surprising.

And, above, all, a wilfull lack of understanding of what made this town what it is, and what can help it survive.  It’s a good thing we have so many opticians in town–there’s obviously a great demand for rose-coloured lenses to appreaciate the past through. The darker the better.

Visitors to our fair town immediately assume that the central car park was once the site of an Ilkley market, and it’s the great joy of historical pedants like myself to point out that Ilkley (apart from the granting of a couple of charters in the mid-thirteenth century) has never hosted a market. Indeed, up till the 1840s Ilkley was a completely insignificant place compared to its market-town neighbour Otley.

However, it does appear that there was an intention to host a market on the very site where the car park now sits. Looking closely at the Plan for the second Middleton Land sale (1868), the area around Hawksworth Road now occupied by hundreds of commuting cars is clearly marked as ‘site of intended market’. Given the amount of time it usually takes for things to happen in this ‘burg, perhaps its still on the plans somewhere in Ilkley Town Hall.

Contrary to the rumours being spread, The Greek Restaurant is NOT closing down..

Okay, it’s not a great headline, but it’s ben a long day.

Information received suggests one or two of our local councillors are conducting something of a Vendetta against our local hostelries. At a festval event on Friday, one councillor was heard exclaiming ‘one down, three to go’ over the news of the failure of The Crescent to extend its licensing hours. Good to see the Council on the side of local business and all that. Will it make an iota of difference to the level of anti-social behaviour in town? Course not. But Mr. Smith thinks different.

Listening to the very first Human League LP (at least under that name) while working tonight, I got caught by the lyrics to the seminal ‘Crow and a Baby’. I’d never realised before that it’s an updated version of our own town anthem. What does this remind you of?

"If you think you’re so mature

You’ll end up in a field

You will be someones manure

Mushrooms growing from your back

Feeding some damn carrion bird

Do you want to contribute

to the corruption of the world?"

Okay, not the last bit. *sigh, nostalgia*

In the serenissima, the serene republic of Venice, they had a policing system involving denunciation. Anyone (well, you had to be a citizen not a slave, but that sort of went with the ability to write) could denounce another citizen by dropping a letter into a mailbox shaped like a lions’ mouth. Plainly they had a lot of nutters who were probably ignored, but this system could lead to those denounced being spirited away in the middle of the night across the Bridge of Sighs and never heard from again.

It’s good, then, that the UK has decided to learn from this experience. INstead of paying policemen to get out on the beat, they’re to be encouraged to sit at their desks while anonymous tip-offs are delivered to them by mail and phone. These tip-offs will then be investigated. If you;re btohered by a group of youths on the street corner, phone it in (anonymously) and they’ll send someone round. If you don’t like the noise from a neighbour, mail it in and denounce them. It’ll give the Police something to do, and save them from having to solve actual crime. But what sort of society will it make us?

I can just think of one couple who will be making use of this privilege.

The authors/poets/cartoonists plugging their books at Ilkley Literature Festival have been announced. Starts with PD James, ends with Louis Theroux. In the middle there’s Maya Angelou, usual suspects like Joolz, and a writing class with Toby Litt who must be rated as one of our best under-40 novelists.

No Zadie. Thank you organisers. Stop a passing website (when it’s updated) and buy some tickets.

To the Bradford Council team that decided that the lights on Skipton Rd/Victoria Avenue were not bad enough, and that they should repair the road, shutting off one carriageway, in August at the height of the day-tripper season!

Well done those chaps. Tail-backs to Skipton. We had to circle from Bolton Abbey to Langbar and over the suspension bridge to get home. Some Leeds-ites (not knowing of these back routes) are probably still there.

Or at least it did on Tuesday. Someone had been muck-spreading and the pall hung over the whole side of the hill. Phew-wee. Must have been delightful for the residents.

A better than usual article by Victor Keegan on why we’re becoming surveillance obsessed. If Eric Blair hadn’t changed his name, the graffito at Ilkley station would be even more apt.