That got your attention!

With an article on the Victorian rifle range half-written, and another on the sunken village of Derwent in the brewing stage, I thought I’d sprinkle some Christmas cheer!

I occasionally have reason to look at old newspaper articles via the British Newspaper Archive. There is always something interesting to be found, especially Glossop related, but this actually made me laugh out loud.

So, may I present to you, a Christmas special of the Glossop Cabinet of Curiosities, culled from the pages of the Manchester Times, and dated 28th April 1832.

GROSS INDECENCY

To the Editor of the Manchester Times

Sir, Permit me to bring before the attention of your readers a very gross breach of public decency, and, I fear, a rapidly increasing evil. I mean foot races in a state of nearly total nakedness. On Saturday the 14th instant, I had occasion to walk up Stayley Wood, in company with my wife, and when a short distance beyond the eighth milestone on the Mottram Road, we were met by four brutes, whose shapes, I am ashamed to acknowledge, were human, with no other article of clothing than an apology for a pair of drawers each; shouting and commanding us to leave the footpath, that they might pursue their race uninterruptedly.

Last Saturday, too, business led me to a gentleman’s house, in Glossop Dale; in passing through H______ T______ (presumably Howard Town – RH.) I observed a hat hanging from the bedroom window of a beer shop, which I understand was the prize to be contested for in this manner: a short distance further I met two candidates for this kind of fame, in the same state of nudity, surrounded by applauding crowds, amongst whom were many effigies of women (English matrons and maidens, as a Briton, I boldly deny they could possibly be).

Mr. Editor, I do assure this is a fact, I am writing a true statement. I know the names of many of the parties, but no part of your paper must be defiled with so base, so hateful a pollution as the mention of them would be. I naturally inquired of my friend “have you any constables here?” “Oh yes, many.” “Where do they reside?” “The constables for H______ T______  reside at the next door to the…” – judge my surprise – … very house where I had seen the prize exhibited.

It is not my intention, Sir, to reprove these diligent officers, but if I were to ask, with the sexton, “which be the malefactors?” Dogberry and Verges (comically inept policemen in Shakespeare’s ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ – RH.) would answer “Marry, that be I and my partner”. It is by no means my intention to interfere with popular amusements; the poor men have not too many; but against such outrages and violations of public decency I will protest to the last: a shirt would not impede the runner, and none but men lost to every sense of morality, decency, and religion, would ever sanction such proceedings. I will hope, for the honour of humanity, such proceedings will be prevented for the future. Should I be disappointed, I will beg permission to insert a castigation which shall make the authors and participants writhe in mental agony.

I remain, Sir, your humble servant, PUDENS (a Roman nickname meaning ‘modest’ – RH)

So there you have it… there is very little I can add to that.

Expect more blogging soon, but in the meantime, should you be walking on Boxing Day, watch out for semi-naked joggers. Oh, and if anyone fancies meeting up for a drink, you’ll find me outside Wetherspoons, topless, fighting people for a hat.

Have a very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year.

Your humble servant,

RH