Ben Brierley. 1825—1896

This ancient landmark, so well—known throughout the country, has been taken down, as it is deemed unsafe on account of decay. “Ab” overhears the wail of the wooden relic on his return one evening from “The Old. Bell.” (Manchester Guardian). This must refer to the second. Failsworth Pole, erected 1850. The third Pole was erected in 1889, the principal speaker at the inauguration being Ben Brierley. “Th’ Owd Bell” is the present—day Crown and Cushion.

They’ve ta’en me down at last, theau sees,

Becose I’m gettin rotten,

An’ that’s no wonder when I think

I’ve been so long forgotten.

There’s nob’dy tricked me eaut wi’ paint,

Nor trimmed my vane an’ points,

Nor weshed my face, nor combed my yure, (hair)

Nor oiled my creakin’ Joints.

Sin’ I’re put here to face the storm,

An’ wintry frosts an’ snows:

An’ not a drop o’ comfort sent

To thaw my frozen nose.

It wurno so when th’ lord o’th’ lond (land)

Wi’ ribbons decked my yead,

An’ made me change my politics

By turning blue to red.

I wonder what th’ “Owd. Ship” would say,

An’ “Trumpet—foot” would do,

If they could rise before their time, *Local celebrities An’ see what I’ve come to? of the past.

Th’ owd “smith” would make his anvil ring,*

An’ eke his bellows blow,

If he wur towd. th’ “V.R.” wur gone

He’d fashioned years ago.

An’ chanticleer has left his perch,  

He felt wur a disgrace

So long as     ‘n a Queen to rule     (Victoria)

The fates of fowls an’ men,

An’ show us th’ way eaur feelins blow,

It owt t’ ha’ been a hen.

Farewell, owd brid, an’ when I’m gone

To Join the shades o’ men,

They’ll wish they’d spared a bit o’ paint

To mak me young again.

But neaw another’ll tak my place,

A masher for a time,  (masher = swell)

But he’ll come deawn to rust and chips

Before he’s past his prime.

So ‘tie wi’ men as weel as pows, (as well as poles)

Neglected i’ their day;

An’ when they’re come to coffin dust

They’ll find a bed 0’ clay