Continuing Roger Chadwicks fabulous Memories of Hyde....
My church bore the
grandiose title of “the parish of St John the
Baptist, Godley cum Newton
Green”! I never found out where Newton
Green was but assumed it was somewhere around Newton Station. Certainly Godley was a huge
geographical parish and then included Hattersley and parts of Hoviley.
The great excitement of the year was 0900 hrs at the Sheffield Road (Church) School on a Whit
Friday. Huge banners, pretty little girls, a be-decked bible, Mothers
Union members in blue veils, everyone in new Whit Walk clothes and the Church
Lads Brigade resplendent in their smart uniforms and highly polished
bugles. A procession of up to 100 people would set off led, by custom,
every year, by The Dove Holes Prize Band. Choirboys were somewhere in the
middle behind the Church Banner, the Churchwardens proudly bearing their staffs
of office and the cheery rubicund Vicar, resplendent in choir robes, hood and
mortar board or Canterbury Cap. His eyes were usually fixed on us because
we were troublesome and he was always ready to pounce!
St John the Baptist, Godley
Our parish Walk was
something of a marathon! We would pass through High Street and Fountain Street,
down “Sammy Spit” and up Commercial Brow, back down towards Hyde
and through Hoviley and into Clarendon
Place. For some reason we never went into
the market area with all the other processions. Then the fun would
begin! Our route thence took us straight up the A57 (Mottram Rd),
through Godley Arches and up Godley
Hill Road to the War Memorial. Apparently,
the police didn’t like this tradition because we caused massive hold ups
of local and commercial long distance traffic. But process we did and the
choir lads, by adroit timing of the walk and surreptitious hand signals, could
welcome angry motorists and sometimes an SHMD Decker into the
procession! One brave lad decided to mount the rear platform of the bus
on one such Walk and was hastily pushed off by the guard! All this caused
mayhem and infuriated the Vicar but we loved it. All the way round,
crowds would line the pavements of the parish and there was much banter and
raillery on all sides. Our Godley Whit Walk took three hours to complete with
numerous stops for “Deep Harmony”,” Lloyd”, “The
Old Hundredth” (Hymn Tunes), prayers and readings. On Whit Friday
afternoon, everyone, including the Bands, repaired to Farmer Osborne’s
field beside The Barmhouses for the Sports. (The usual Olympic style fare of sack/egg and spoon
races and much else). By 1700 hrs we were home, worn out but
happy!
Clarendon Place
The Church had a
striking tower with a good peal of “bells”….
These wonderful “bells” consisted of a heavy 78rpm wax record in a
gramophone in the Choir Vestry and it was the task of choir boys to reset the
record every three minutes. This process usually lasted for a full
fifteen minutes but we made sure that, if possible, the needle could be left
playing at the centre of the disc. A hideous sound of magnified hissing
and scratching would then fill the air of the parish until an irate
Churchwarden or Sidesman would come in and ask “what the hell’s
goin’ on?” I seem to remember that this record was called
“Grand Sire Garters” from Westminster
Abbey”. It was a dreadful noise but caused us unforgettable
merriment.
Sermons were quite
long and the mosaic of the floor around the choir stalls was a good surface for
“glass alleys” (marbles) which we could flirt across to lads on the
other side. Wax sweet papers made good darts and we carved our names in
the choir stalls. Once we were sent out for really bad behaviour but once
chastised, it was soon forgotten. We sang two services on a Sunday,
“murdered” anthems and sang Oratorios on Good Friday, even
Stainer’s ‘Crucifixion’ and Maunder’s
‘Olivet to Calvary’.
The choir was raucous but enthusiastic. I enjoyed every minute of it.
Canon May guided
several lads towards Ordination and I was one of them. In
1962 I wore the clerical collar for the first time and I can honestly say that
over 37 years in the work I have always encouraged and joined in mischief and
high spirits. It’s all part of being a boy(and a man!) and in
these days of political correctness it is something that they are
missing. Some years ago I was at Evensong in York Minster and the choir lads were
misbehaving terribly. In high spirits there was just no dealing
with them.
Bad with silent
laughter I thought to myself – “Oh aye! Been there! Done that !
Many Thanks again, Roger ! :)
Also, thanks to Carl Rogerson for use of the photo of St Johns.
3 comments:
Thanks for sharing your memories with us I really enjoy reading them and look forward to the next chapter.They help me remember my childhood spent a lot of the time in Bears wood and at Zion Chapel.
Fantastic memories. I really loved this piece.
I remember Canon May was referred to as "pecky May" does anyone know why?
Dave Davies
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