Freeman fighters

FEET beneath the table, though not yet in 6in heels, last week’s column waxed disapprovingly of a fresh attempt to allow women into the Darlington 5s and3s League.

It’s realism, not sexism. Whatever on earth is wrong with a good oldfashioned lads’ – or lasses’ – night out?

Cliff Gilroy seeks to widen the issue – a liberation issue, some might erroneously suppose – to the Freemen of Durham.

Durham’s Freemen have been around for 700 years, even longer than the 5s and 3s league though not, it sometimes seems, than one or two of its players. In May, however, a complicated legal process confirmed – as it had in Newcastle the year previously – that Freemen could be of either sex.

Cliff, 70, is himself a Freeman.

“Once women get in, they start to take over,” he insists. “It was the same with the workmen’s clubs.

They weren’t allowed on the committee when they first got in, but now they’re everywhere. I understand there’s quite a long queue already.”

Cliff was so aghast, indeed, that he rang a Women’s Institute official seeking to join. “They said I couldn’t, some Act of Parliament,” he says, though he has almost certainly been misinformed.

Historically, a Freeman was a member of a craft or trade guild, the honour passed down through the male line and even to the son-in-law – but not the daughter – of an existing member.

Privileges are few, though there’s still something about grazing beasts on the Sands. In Newcastle, they’ve the whole Town Moor upon which to exercise that right. Freemen also raise large sums for charity.

John Heslop, the chairman of Wardens of the Guilds – Durham still has eight – hasn’t been available. Back in May, however, he told the BBC of the “over my dead body” approach of some older members. “I’ve also had two or three wives of Freemen who’ve said they disagree with women becoming members, because it throws away tradition and heritage and custom and practice.”

Cliff Gilroy believes that women will continue to be known as Freemen. “It’s all about image to those who voted for it, about being seen to liven the place up. Young women might raise the profile a bit, but we don’t want old women joining.

“It’s worked very well for 700 years.

Why should we want to change it now?”

THOUGH himself a retired teacher, John Heslop is also warden of the Guild of Curriers and Tallow Chandlers.

Whatever candalous business the tallow chandlers might have essayed, a currier was someone who rubbed down or dressed a horse, or horse leather. A curry comb was used for grooming or cleaning horses, but only hot favourites, of course.

IN error, again, the freedominoes column was topped with John Knox’s seemingly familiar quote about the monstrous regiment of women.

As Jon Smith, in Barningham, near Barnard Castle, patiently points out, it was the “monstrous regimen”

– particularly disappointing because we’d made the same mistake in 2008, when last they tried to turn 5s and 3s into even numbers.

“That said,” adds Jon, “I’m all in favour of retaining men-only gatherings and wish you well in your campaign.”

The 2008 reference had also brought a note from Martin Vickerman, one of the organisers of the annual egg and bacon pie competition at the Black Bull, in Melsonby, near Richmond, which is strictly limited to men and boys. It’s coincidental because, last Saturday, the Darlington and Richmond branches of the Campaign for Real Ale had a games afternoon at the Bull, the sexes happily in union.

Darlington branch chairman Peter Everett admits to being soundly beaten on the dominoes table. Regrettably, he declines to confirm that the winner was indeed a victrix ludorum.

THE Melsonby egg and bacon pie contest continues this year, date to be decided. “It was always the Tuesday after the leek and onion show but, sign of the times, the leek and onion show has gone to the wall,” says Martin.

Other things are unchanging. “It’s enshrined in the rules that a woman’s role is to carry the pie to the pub if it’s particularly heavy,” he adds.

So how do they prevent what might be termed trans-gender pies, those baked by the lady of the house but exhibited by the feller. “We rely on innate North Yorkshire honesty,” says Martin.

DURHAM has at least two John Heslops, the other – a County Hall man – a regular and much-valued correspondent hereabouts.

The second John, doubtless no less liberated, has just had reason to drive though the Norfolk village of Little Snoring, about which we wrote a couple of weeks back.

It may not, he supposes, be all that somnolent. “The degree of holiday and commercial traffic is such that you might struggle to sleep a wink.”

Like Dorset, the county of Piddlehenthrenthide, Norfolk abounds in curious place names – John lists, among others, Gaywood, Pretty Corner, Three Holes, Four Gotes and Stiffkey, which had a notorious rector.

His favourite, however, is Stratton Strawless, perhaps built for a night on the tiles.

THE ever-vigilant Janet Murrell, another of Durham’s finest, returns an ad that had appeared in the paper, below, under the classification “Collectables and fine art”. There’s a load of magazines – “fair condition”

– used by an “artery storer”. Ah, says Janet, a proper bloody job.

SINCE last week’s column touched upon political correctness, Paul Wilkinson recalls a DVD of the Just William television series with the customary classification: “PG. Contains outrageous behaviour which could be copied.” Apparently, it wasn’t a joke.

Thanks also to Raye Wilkinson, no relation, who points out that four of the major events of 1981 – Prince Charles married, Liverpool were football champions of Europe, Australia lost the Ashes and the Pope died – were exactly replicated in 2005.

The moral, says Raye, is that the next time Charles thinks about getting married, someone had better warn the Pope.

A KIND letter arrives from the Right Reverend Terry Drainey, Roman Catholic Bishop of Middlesbrough.

His postcode’s TS5 6QT, which in the curious mind raises the origin of the phrase “On the QT”. A little research suggests that it’s merely a way of saying “On the quiet,” that originated in the 19th Century. Whisper it, but why didn’t I think of that?

…and finally, a sprat and mackerel query occasioned by a picture, above, of the Weardale Railway in yesterday’s paper.

As trainspotting kids in Shildon we’d often note that trucks had the word “Dogfish” on the side, probably discounted the theory that West Auckland shed had a sideline in transporting small sharks around the country but had no other explanation.

There it lay all these years until the Weardale’s new trucks were seen also to have the single word “Dogfish” on the side. An unlikely angle, but will someone please take the bait?