SOME typewritten notes I have had for many years give a vivid insight into life at Giggleswick well over a century ago. It was a time when Giggleswick parish absorbed Settle. The notes lack an author’s name and a date, though he relates that his mother used to tell him of her schooldays a hundred years before.

That was a time when Abagail Tenant, “a worthy old Quakeress”, kept a “dames school”, one of the first lessons being “the alphabet”. When, on reading the Bible, they came to a long word she would say: “Hard word; pass it over”. The holidays were a week at Christmas and a fortnight in the summer.

Bill Bradley, who lived in Tems Street with his wife Nancy, was a relic of the Peninsular War. He had been made Armourer when the Volunteer Corps was formed by Colonel Morrison.

An old huckster in the village whose surname was Edmondson owned a blind horse called Bracken. Old Bill and his missus had a lodger who generally spent his evenings at the Settle pubs until turning-out time. Some of the village wags who knew his way of life led Bracken to Bill’s house, the door of which was left unlocked. They left the horse in the kitchen. The Bradley couple, who had been slumbering in the room above, were roused by the curious pattering of Bracken’s hooves on the flagged floor below.

Johnny Parker, another Giggleswick character mentioned in this anonymous but entertaining account of local life, had a shop near the Cross. Johnny had a mean streak and, if raisins were requested, would divide a single raisin into two to attain the exact weight for sale.

Old Billy Monk and Jinny lived at Dicky Cock Field. He was one of the old handloom weavers. He also possessed a tooth-key with which he might yank out the molars of suffering humanity. Anyone in need of attention would sit on the doorstep, head between his knees. Presumably all they said would be ouch!

Giggleswick Fair (March 12) became an important event. It died out. Memories remained. On one occasion there was a smoking contest. Competitors sat on a high wall opposite the Hart’s Head inn. Each competitor had a long clay pipe of the churchwarden’s type. When they were in “full blast” some village lads formed a silent rearguard – and pushed the competitors off the wall. It was a six foot drop and, luckily, there were no serious consequences.

Parson Clapham was a local worthy at a time when cockfights, known as “mains”, took place in the old School Yard near the Church. It was then an open space – a sort of village green. School boys each received a bag of figs and a bun from an ancient bequest. The ceremony died out in 1860.

When the local police force came into being, Constable Lindsay lived in Giggleswick. He was informed that a desperate character was hiding in a hay-mow where Settle Post Office was to stand. It seems that Henry Snell had purchased a ship’s figurehead at Barrow. Representing some great warrior it was put into the barn prior to being bolted on to Castleberg Rock.

Settle comes into the story. “What an excitement there must have been when John Tatham and other friends formed a company to illuminate the town, in the forties, with fish-oil gas. It proved to be too expensive. A new process involving coal was introduced., a gasometer being erected in the yard near the Victoria Hall. When the gas works were removed to Upper Settle, the tar water was turned into a drain which discharged it into the river. Jacky Moorby was fishing at the time and, having a net, raked in stupified trout by the dozen. Happily, the River Ribble river has long been kept pure and clear.