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Murder at Bill's O' Jack's
Contributed by
Supered
on
Wednesday, 22nd November 2006 @ 04:14:42 AM in AEST
Topic:
AmericanTragedy
|
Let's turn back the hands of time to eighteen thirty two
To the Moorcock Inn at Greenfield, renowned for it's home brew.
Situated in the bleak and rolling Pennine hills,
Run by landlord Bill O' Jack's and his son Tom O' Bill's.
From Holmfirth the turnpike came and over Isle of Skye
And dropped down into Greenfield from the moors on high.
Dug out of bracken, peat and bog and all the moorland mire
Opening up the Pennine route into Lancashire.
Built by gangs of Irish navvies, rough and ready men,
Who were also known as "Pats" (from St.Patrick, do ya ken).
Every night in Bill's O' Jack's they'd revel loud and long
And down their ale and fill the night with strains of Irish song.
With the opening of the road more people did drop in
And enjoy a welcome drink at the Moorcock Inn.
They'd take in the awesome view of moorland and of vale
And they'd soak up the atmosphere as they did sup their ale.
The gypsies or Burnplatters as the were sometimes called
Made their camp at Wessenden, or so the story's told,
And Tom O' Bill's would charge the rent, claiming 'twas his land,
And if they should refuse to pay they'd feel his heavy hand.
For Tom was tall and muscular, with shoulders like an ox
A fighting man when he was young and he'd learnt how to box.
He was feared by many a man and enemies he'd made
For Tom believed he was the king of all that he surveyed.
Monday April 2nd dawned like any other day
But ended in mysterious and most horrific way
Reuben Platt called at the pub, he was Tom's closest friend,
Sometime twixt six and seven o'clock they set off to Roadend.
They hadn't travelled very far when three "Pats" they did see
Heading towards Bill's O' Jack's, or so they seemed to be.
But Tom and Reuben watched them go till they were out of sight
And so set off to Whitehead's store in quickly fading light.
What Tom found on his return, we only can surmise
But one thing's certain, on that night, they met their sad demise.
At half-past ten on Tuesday morn Bill's granddaughter called by
And seeing Uncle Tom laid there young Mary then did cry.
She ran down to Whitehead's store, her story to relate
How Grandpa Bill and Uncle Tom had sadly met their fate.
They called Sam Heginbottom then hastened to the scene,
The surgeon saw to both the men and their wounds did clean.
Tom O' Bill's was forty-six, his father eighty-four
Bill was upstairs on his bed, a-lying in his gore.
He had a badly beaten face and cuts on leg and hand
His mouth a blood-filled sticky mess, his face all white and bland.
Downstairs Tom lay unconcious, upon the flags of stone,
In a pool of his own blood, he lay there all alone.
His blood was splattered on the walls, the windows and the door
With fifteen gashes on his head, from which the blood did pour.
What happened on that fatal night is difficult to say,
But plenty theories still abound until this very day.
Now, Bill as he lay dying was said to utter "Pat"
Well, that was what it sounded like, or maybe he said "Platt"
Because this single uttered word from old Bill's lips did part
The navvies and the gypsies were suspects from the start.
For Tom and Reuben saw three navvies on that very night
But Reuben said that he and Tom had seen them out of sight.
Suspicion fell on Reuben Platt, supposed to be their friend,
For hadn't he accompanied Tom part way to Roadend.
Knowing that the coast was clear he'd catch Bill on his own
He could kill Bill and lay a trap for Tom when he came home.
Bill always called him Reuben, he never called him Platt,
So, at the inquest, he was cleared of murder - that was that.
Two Irishmen were questiond in Uppermill next day
As the descrition did not fit they sent them on their way.
Joe and his father Jamie, the Red Tom Bradburys
Became major suspects, but they had no worries.
Though Tom had caught them poaching and they were summoned then
To Pontefract Assizes that Tuesday to attend.
So early on that morning, they set out on their way
And, upon reaching Meltham, Jamie was heard to say
That Tom O' Bill's won't testify, just you wait and see,
With him not there as witness, we'll both get off "Scott free"
The magistrates, who hadn't heard about this dreadful deed
Could not charge Joe and Jamie and so the pair were freed.
Suspicion was awakened when news then filtered through
And they were gaoled in Huddersfield until their case was due.
There was no concrete evidence to convict the pair
And Jamie's daughter, Matty, swore on oath that there
Would only have been time enough for them to get on back
To their home from the New Inn and not call at Bill's O' Jack's.
The magistate accepted this and duly closed the case
The official verdict being there was no charge to face.
And though they got off lightly, 'twas also seen by folk
That they stopped drinking in the pubs in case the "ale should talk"
It's well known that Tom was hated by many round about
And he'd had lots of run-ins with the Bradbury's no doubt.
Tom always had the upper-hand so, maybe then through spite,
They made their plans to pay him back upon that April night.
Whoever did ths horrid deed, their blackened souls did save
And took their morbid secret with them to the grave.
So the mystery still lives on and no one has a clue
To what happened on that April night in eighteen thirty two.
Edward Bamforth...............January 2006.
Copyright ©
Supered
... [
2006-11-22 04:14:42]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Murder at Bill's O' Jack's
(User Rating: 1 )
by SoUR_GuRL67 on
Wednesday, 22nd November 2006 @ 04:47:48 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Yet another poetic story, and a joy to read might I add. You have alot of talent, this poem was quite lengthy but never got boring it kept me hooked right in!
Thanks for sharing,
K |
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