Harry Rutherford's
Festival of Britain Mural

Sunday, 13 June 2010

George Hotel, Great Norbury Street

The George stands at the top of Great Norbury Street in Hyde. The surrounding area used to be known as "Long Cinder Croft".. This was always a good place to watch live bands. It's a shame to see it close as there aren't many good live venues around Hyde anymore.
The George gets a mention in this poem from James Leigh.

Shooting A Hare
(A True Tale Of Some Hyde Cronies)
Their’ used to live, some time ago.
An’ does do yet, for owt aw know,
A chap weel known as t’ Church Street ghost;
An’ often have aw yerd him boast
Heaw he on one eventful night
Two brave policemen put to fright.
Heawever, be that as it may
Of course, `tis not for me to say;
For this same ghost, nicknamed “Owd Nap”,
Is recon’s sich a lying chap
He’ll entertain yo’ with a skit,
An’ tell it different in a bit.
But one fine day, well, so I’m towd
A chap called Joss, he fairly sowed;
His other name did transpire,
And I, of course, did not inquire;
But th’ tale’s bin towd to me as true,
So neaw aw’ll try an’ tell it you.
One day, when Joss wer’ ceawer’t `ith George,
An he some cheese an’ bread did gorge,
Weshin’ it deawn wi’ royal fours.
Thus adding’ too his former scores;
This same “Owd Nap” went dartin’ in
An greeted Josho’ with a grin.
“Theaurt just the mon aw want” he cried;
“Why, what’s up neaw?” Josh then replied;
Aw’ve com’n throo’t gardens, deawn `ith Broo’,
An mind, aw’m telling’ thi’ what’s true;
In owd Zack’s garden aw declare,
Aw’ve seen a great big thumpin’ hare!”
“Theau doseno’ say,” Josh then cried eawt;
“It’s true,” said “Nap,” “Ther’s not a deaubt;
Awd seed it sure enough,” he said,
“On owd Zack Taylor’s parsley bed;
But com thisel’, and have a peep;
Aw think it must bi fast asleep!”
 Joss look’s as sly as ony meause,
An’ focht a gun fro’ eaut o’th’ heause;
“Come on,” he said, an off they went,
To shoot that hare wer his intent;
He towd “Owd Nap” that hare he’d pot,
He awles wer a deadly shot.
When they wer’n gooin’ deawn t’ Church Broo,
Ses Josh “Aw’ll tell thi’ what we’ll do;
We’ll have a fost-class supper t’ neet,
An’ gi th’ Church Ringers o a treat!”
“Agreed,” said Nap”; “Aw’ll bi’ mi’ share,
That is, if wi con shoot this hair.”
It was a glorious Spring-tide morn,
Sweet-scented blossom deck t’ the thorn;
Scarcely a sound of aught was heard,
Except the twittering o’ a bird,
As “Nap” an Josh, with muffled tread,
Approached owd Zack’s big parsley bed.
“Hush,” said “Owd Nap;” “It’s yonder yet;
Theau mun creep as near as theau con get;
Joss crept upon his honds an’ knees
An’ geet behind some current trees;
And soon that hare he did espy,
And fixed on it his eagle eye.
Aw wish yo’d seen “Owd Nap’s” red nose
It look ‘t just like a full-blown rose;
Good gracious, heaw it shein’t it th’ sun,
Reflectin’ whiskey, ale, an rum;
His mirth he scarcely could contain,
When Josho’ took deliberate aim
A flash ! a bang ! The deed was done !
When Josho’ for his prize did run;
When lo ! The sight that met his gaze,
The parsley bed was in a blaze !
That hare was nothing but a skin
With hay and rags well stuffed therein !
The shot had set the hay on fire,
And caused this dreadful mischief dire
 Joss waved his arms, an’ stamped abeaut,
Till th’ flames he’d partly trampled eaut;
Then turned in righteous indignation
To seek from “Nap” an explanation;
But that old bird had winged his flight,
As tho’ he’d been some fairly sprite.
“Owd Nap” had done it neat and clean.
And made his exit from the scene -
Vanished and in a twinkling, too,
As only ghosts are known to do -
Ta’en to his heels up Hyde Church Broos,
To tell his boosing pals the news.
Joss gazed around with `wilder’d stare -
First clutched his gun, an’ then his hair -
Vowed by the hare he’d shot (poor chap)
He’d bi revenged upon “Owd Nap”; -
Slunk off toart whoam, went straight to bed,
An’ stopt theer for a week, it’s said
So neaw mi’ tale aw’ve briefly towd
Heaw in th’ Church Broo poor Joss wer sowd;
An’ to this day “Owd Nap” will boast
Heaw he the famous Church Street ghost
Stuffed th’hare, an’ placed it theer hissel,
An’ th’ rest o’th tale yon yer’d mi’ tell.
James Leigh
From his book
Gleams Of Sunshine


Gerald (Ackworth born) said...

Sad shame - I wonder what is going to happen to the clock.

Hydonian said...

This pub has seen a lot of occasions celebrated and commiserated in my family. Such a shame it's closed its doors for the last time. It holds many memories for me! Anyone know what it's being used for next?

imac said...

Times are a-changing my friends, for the better??

Tom said...

Nancy I think it is being turned into either a house or flats... :O(

Tom said...

I've included the poem 'Shooting A Hare' from Jame Leigh.. it is nice to see certain place names in print as well... Church Broo... is such a place.... I spent a lot of time here in the shadow of St. Georges at my dads pigeon loft and allotments. Race days I was banned as I made far to much noise ha!..

Ex Hydeonian said...

What is happening to Hyde?? All these pubs closing down. Don't Muslims drink??

I remember many a night in the George and my Fathers funeral wake was held there and I met my wife there. (Shame she was with my best mate at the time!! Only joking). In the olden days, well, circa 1980 anyways, Robinsons pubs used to be ever so slightly upmarket and the George was always a fairly comfortable pub. Sometimes though, Robinsons beer left a lot to be desired IMHO.