IN THE THICK OF THE FIGHT. HEPTONSTALL SOLDIER’S INTERESTING DESCRIPTION.
17th November, 1916, Todmorden and District News
Private Harry Taylor (King’s Royal Rifles), eldest son of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Taylor, White Lion Hotel, Heptonstall, has written the following interesting account of the recent Big Push: ‘About seven o’clock the night before the battle we marched about four miles to the top a hill close behind the fighting line. Here we were served out with bombs and some of us got a spade fastened on our backs. Just before dawn we marched off again through woods and villages which our troops had recently taken. Our guns started blazing away, howitzers behind and field-guns all around us. It was a terrible bombardment, and it made one feel proud to be a Britisher. After about hour this again started off for the last line and soon we were struggling through shell holes towards the German lines. We passed two large bodies of German prisoners, some them wounded all looking pleased to get out of it. This time big German shells were bursting all round and soon the machine guns also opened fire. We were now getting quite close to the Huns, and our men were falling before the terrible fire machine guns. One in particular on our right flank enfiladed and played havoc before it was put out of action. Still we kept on running about 20 yards, then throwing ourselves headlong into shell-holes. It was hard work and I remember I was so ‘done up ’ at one time that I was forced to walk across open ground to the next shell-hole. I had a very narrow escape, a bullet hitting the spade, which showed above my shoulders, and glancing off. A little further we came to the first line of trenches, which had been taken from the Germans that morning, and also passed two ‘caterpillars,’ one of which had been put out action by a ‘whizz-bang.’ We were in the thick of it now with a vengeance, but kept pushing on and the Germans gave themselves up in hundreds. The different regiments seemed to have all got mixed up by the time had advanced about two miles, but it was only what could be expected. The order was now passed along to dig ourselves in, and luckily I was in shell-hole at the time along with Rifle Brigade officer, three R.B. men, and corporal of my own company, so had not much digging to do. In a few hours we were firmly established in good deep trenches, all connected up. We stayed here until the early hours next morning, during which time the Germans made a few counter attacks, but we drove them back quite easily. We were all glad when the relief came up for were hungry and tired. It was a long, weary journey back to where our field kitchens were waiting for with some good hot tea that seemed to put new life into us. At present we are in nice warm barn in a little village about 40 miles behind the line for a three weeks’ rest. I and my chum had each the offer of a stripe, but we did not accept same then. We have plenty straw at the barn and have had a skin-coat and pair of fur-lined gloves issued to us. I shall probably have been confirmed by the time this letter reaches you.”
Did Harry’s account refer to his involvement in the Battle of the Somme?
Last week while enjoying refreshments at The Cross in Heptonstall I noticed a small framed photo on the ledge behind me. It showed a man pouring beer from a jug for five other men, four seated and one standing. From their clothes I’d have guessed the photo was taken around 1900. Imagine my astonishment when, on turning the frame over, there were two aging pieces of paper stuck to the back bearing the following inscription: ‘Paul Taylor, born 10th November 1867, died 17th May, 1923. he is the man holding the jug. Licensee of The White Lion, Heptonstall. Photo taken behind the White Lion next to what had been the smithy. Local people in the village all referred to Cliffe Street as ….’
Oh my, this landlord, Paul Taylor is one of my ancestors! My excitement was immense. It’s so rare to find photos of ancestors on ancestral websites and archives, let alone, by pure chance in a pub. And remember, the photo was in The Cross pub just a few doors along the main cobbled street in Heptonstall from The White Lion. I would love to know how this photo came to be in The Cross. I go there frequently and haven’t seen it before.
Once home I was eager to do more research into Paul Taylor, a name I knew from previous research. But what’s this? The dates are wrong. ‘My’ Paul Taylor, about whom I had already written a blog, tracing the origins of the Taylor family at Old Chamber and ending with the tragically early deaths of two of his children was 1829-1904. https://blog.hmcreativelady.com/2022/09/03/rambles-through-my-family-15-untimely-deaths-chapter-6-frank-taylor/
https://blog.hmcreativelady.com/?s=ellen+taylor
Surely there must be a family link between the two Paul Taylors, especially since the White Lion plays an important part in the story of the earlier Paul Taylor. It didn’t take me too long to discover that the Paul Taylor in the photo was the nephew of the earlier one. The Paul in the photo was the son of Greenwood Taylor, Paul number 1’s brother. Greenwood was a stone mason living at Old Chamber when this Paul was born. By 1891 the family had moved to Heptonstall, living in the centre of the village at New House Farm, adjacent to Dog Lane. Neither of these names appear on old maps but by posting on Facebook I discovered that Dog Lane was the old name for Church Lane since it follows the trajectory of a dog’s back leg. Greenwood now lists himself as a farmer and Paul became a fustian cutter. In 1896 Paul married Mary Hannah Robertshaw, daughter of Ann Robertshaw, at Heptonstall church and they had six children. Five years after their marriage they were living at The White Lion in Heptonstall where Paul would remain the landlord for the next twenty years until his death in 1923, when the license was transferred to his wife.
in 1903 Paul Taylor, of the White Lion, Heptonstall, was fined 5 shillings and costs on the 27th November last for being drunk in charge of a horse and cart. In July 1917 Paul won a bowling tournament at Heptonstall Bowling club, a place with special memories for me since that’s where the cast and crew of the TV series The Gallows Pole would meet to have dinner after the day’s filming. I was an extra playing a ‘Cragg Vale villager.’
The newspaper article about The Big Push was written by Paul’s son, Harry. He was just 19 when he wrote it. He’d been brought up in the hilltop village of Heptonstall, where his father was landlord of the White Lion. By the age of 14 he was a weaver in a cotton mill, a mill within walking distance of the village. Being thrust from that life into life on ‘the front’ is incomprehensible to me, but on this day of celebrating the end of the second world war I think it’s fitting to stop and think about such stories – the many millions of such stories.
Recent Comments