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Leslie Dunkerley (1907 - 1996)
 
 


Note: A number of other photos of Leslie can be found by clicking on Irene's section of this site here.

 

Early Days, School and Church

James Leslie Dunkerley, later to be universally known as ‘Leslie’, was born on 27th January 1907 at 38, Cottam Street, Chadderton in Oldham, fourth child – third son – of
Billy and Selina
. The happy event took place on a Sunday, and according to 19th Century traditions ‘Sunday’s child is full of grace’ and ‘Sunday’s child will never know want’. It was not an unpromising start.

The family home was a typical red-brick terraced house built some years before during one of the periodic booms that swept across Oldham. Billy was then a ‘Cotton winder’s overlooker’, a supervisory position, working, no doubt, at one of the local mills, but keen to better himself.

And there were opportunities, because the cotton industry was going though a period of plenty, and new mills were under construction. These incorporated the latest ring-spinning technology and tended to be built away from the traditional cotton spinning areas. One fine mill, the
Regent
, had been erected at a prime site along the banks of the Rochdale canal, about three miles from Cottam Street, in Failsworth on the Manchester side of Oldham. It was there that Billy obtained a better position when Leslie was about a year old. Billy therefore moved his family to the ‘flat lands’ of Failsworth, initially renting a house at number 60 Old Road and it was there that Leslie first began to accumulate a few memories. Not long afterwards the family moved next door to number 62, which appears to have had extra accommodation, namely a back kitchen and third bedroom.

Trying to piece together the story of Leslie’s early and youthful years is rather similar to the task of describing the early days of earth history! There are precious few facts – no early documents such as school reports and no contemporary records. What we have is a few anecdotes, some knowledge of the world around his young life and information about the man that emerged. From this we must try to assemble a plausible account.

We know that, besides his mother, Leslie grew up with a sister and two brothers, respectively 5, 3½ and 2 years older than himself. His parents were busy breaking the tradition of naming their children after family forebears, for Leslie’s sister was called ‘Gladys’, his oldest brother was ‘Albert’ and his other brother ‘Lewis’. The name ‘Leslie’ continued this trend, but ‘James’, the name of his paternal grandfather, was tacked on to the front of it, for good measure and perhaps with a twinge of conscience at otherwise breaking with the past. By the time the final member of the family came along 6 years after Leslie, there were no more parental qualms about trendy new names, and Leslie gained a brother called ‘Clare’!

One of the first hard facts we know about Leslie is that when a tiny toddler he managed to seriously burn the right side of his jaw while playing with the coal fire at home. The skin was so damaged that when the time came for the young man to grow ‘fluff’ on his chin, that bit never needed shaving, so in later life Leslie was never tempted to grow a beard. This accident must have happened when he was perhaps three years old, for he had a vague recollection of the trauma. We know too that Leslie was so keen on that most traditional of Lancashire fare, the potato pie, that his father dubbed him ‘Jammy o’ th’ Potates". Other than that, it appears that the youngster was always called ‘Leslie’.

So Leslie grew up in a family where he had an older sister to dote on him and watch out for him. He had a brother four years his senior to make sure he didn’t get too uppity, and another two years older with whom he could play and get into scrapes. For a while he was the ‘little one’ of the family and was no doubt used to his older brothers’ cast-off clothes. Not much room for vanity there then!

However he lived in quite an exciting place. For starters the Regent cotton mill, where his father was ‘summat,’ rose majestically above the surroundings (
see picture
), only a (good) stone’s throw from home. Then there was the Rochdale canal, adjacent to the mill, where a lad could catch tiddlers, watch the barge traffic moving through the locks, and be in constant danger of falling in. Between home and the mill was the main Oldham to Manchester road where horses, trams and an increasing number of vehicles with internal combustion engines would trundle up and down. A hundred yards away on the other side of the house was the railway, where great steam locomotives would wheeze to a halt in neighbouring Failsworth station and then either rattle down to Manchester or snort up the long hill towards Hollinwood and Oldham; at wakes time a seemingly endless succession of long holiday trains, with twin engines on the uphill leg of the journey, would bring an air of excitement. Not far beyond the railway was Moston brook where Leslie could get mucky shoes followed by a scolding from his parents, and there was a brick works where ponds with weed and sedges hid newts, frogs and dollops of frogspawn in the spring. What more could a boy want?

By the time he was six and having his nose put out by the arrival of his baby brother, Leslie was enrolled at the Mather Street Council School, a five-minute walk away from his home down a dirt road, where Miss Bradbury was the Head Teacher. The school was new, having opened in September 1909, and had Infants and Mixed sections. Leslie enjoyed school and there is reason to believe that he was a good pupil. He was a dark-haired lad of slight build who would eventually reach a height of about 5 feet 7 inches or so. But he was quick and agile.

When he was about eight Leslie’s family moved just round the corner from 62 Old Road to number 5 Firs Avenue, that was even closer to the Regent Mill. The basic accommodation was similar but the property was slightly larger. What was different was the location. The name ‘Avenue’ was misleading as this was a single row of five modern terraced houses. The ‘Firs’ part of the name derived from the fact that the houses were built along one side of the garden in front of Firs Hall, a substantial stone house built in the mid-nineteenth century by the Walmsley family of Failsworth, mill- and store owners of some fame in the locality. The Walmsleys had developed something of a reputation for treating the mill workers harshly, in part by obliging them to buy their food at the family shop ('truck'), where prices were inflated, in part for cutting (or ‘slashing’) the workers’ wages to keep costs down. Ben Brierley, the Failsworth poet, wit and later politician, had anonymously written scathing verses about Henry Walmsley and his bully-boy activity, as a result of which Firs Hall came to be called ‘Pinch-Beggars Hall’ and the said Henry ‘Lord Harry the Slasher’.

The Walmsleys no doubt built the five houses at Fir’s Avenue and may even have been the landlords when the Dunkerley family moved in. In any case, it must have been a delight to have a wide, quiet, green lawn as a front garden instead of a busy street, and possibly Harry the Slasher to cut it for them! The Firs Avenue house served the Dunkerleys well for about sixteen years and was the home that Leslie best remembered from his youth.

We can be sure that at a very young age Leslie began attending Sunday school at St. John’s church in Failsworth. The superintendent (from 1906 to 1932) was Samuel Cronshaw, who was also Head Master of the local Day School, and there is good evidence that he and Leslie formed bonds of mutual respect as time went by. Leslie also became a Wolf Cub, Boy Scout, Rover Scout and ultimately Scout Master at St. John’s, of which more later. His association with St. John’s church was to last for over thirty years.

Near to St. John’s was the famous Failsworth Pole – ‘Failsworth Pow’ in the local dialect. Leslie later recalled the Maypole festivals around the Pole and further afield at Werneth Park, Oldham. He obviously had an eye for the ladies for he remembered that the girls used to dress up! He remembered too the Whitsuntide processions when large numbers of children, no doubt including himself and his brothers and sister, used to walk in blocks, Sunday school by Sunday school, round the parish to the accompaniment of brass bands.

Leslie continued at school, as was normal in those days, until age 14. While there he discovered that he was an exceedingly quick runner and there are several stories of the time to illustrate this fact. On one occasion he was the last runner in a relay team, each member having to run once round a football pitch. By the time Leslie started, the other team was so far ahead that it was clear to everyone that they would win. But not to Leslie. Displaying a determination that was characteristic, he set off at such a rate that an onlooker later said that his opponent appeared to be running backwards! Leslie’s team won!

On another occasion the event was the long jump. The system was that all comers jumped against the leading jumper. Leslie had a go and made a poor take off so that he knew he could jump much further. However his ‘poor’ jump put him into the lead and thereafter nobody jumped further. He was left as winner, but with the frustration of knowing that he could have done better!

Leslie was never interested in football, but he got roped in to playing cricket for St. John’s Sunday school, mainly because he was an athletic fielder. He very much enjoyed the sport and won local championship medals. In later years he occasionally enjoyed taking Christine and me to watch Lancashire play at Old Trafford. However Leslie’s true sporting talent was to be at rugby, of which more later.

At some time, possibly when about ten years old, Leslie discovered that the Failsworth Carnegie Free Library received fresh magazines each week and he delighted in scouring them for the latest jokes, gags and cartoons. He would then gleefully discharge a seemingly endless supply of fresh corny jokes upon hapless friends and family! One can only imagine the chuckles, smiles and groans that must have accompanied his progress round the town. The habit of possessing an apposite story or anecdote for any occasion continued throughout his life, as his many friends knew only too well, and as his collection of books of quips and quotes testified!

Leslie moved on from Sunday school to become a keen member of the congregation of St. John’s church. On 9th March 1922, when he was 15 years old he and Lewis were both confirmed at St. John’s, the then vicar being Thomas Cole. They took their first communion together three days later.

We know that Leslie eventually became a Sunday school teacher and there is evidence that he also served as a church warden and as secretary of the Parochial Church Council towards 1937. In that year St. John’s Day and Sunday School Centenary celebrations took place and Leslie was not only on the organizing committee as the representative of the Scouts, but also Secretary of the newly formed Youth Fellowship. In 1935 he received a remarkable testimonial from St. John’s vicar, the Rev. W. A. Edge – whom Leslie held in the highest regard. This testimonial is, in effect, a report telling us what Leslie had made of the first thirty or so years of his life. After writing of Leslie’s ‘splendid character’ Mr. Edge continued:

 

‘He is honest and reliable, one who at all times is ready and eager to help in any good work. He is not easily discouraged and has the aptitude for making friends.

His work amongst the youth here is a splendid testimonial to his work and worth. He is deeply loved and respected by the boys and their parents. He can get the best out of them and they are ready to do anything for him. The parents of the boys trust him implicitly.

He will more than repay any trust reposed in him. During my 22 years in the ministry I have not given a testimonial with greater confidence than this one and I should be most happy to answer any further questions or give more information if required’.


Scouting

In the same year that Leslie was born, 1907, Sir Robert Baden-Powell founded the Boy Scout movement, which was to become the first great love of Leslie’s life.

The origins of the Boy Scout movement go back into the nineteenth century, particularly into the British Army, but also into the English Public School system. The movement’s founder, Baden Powell (‘BP’), was born in 1857 and was brought up by his mother, as his father died when he was very young leaving them in difficult circumstances. The family origins were from the upper class and BP's mother, by thriftiness, managed to maintain her substantial family. BP won a scholarship to the Charterhouse Public School where he was taught that academic progress was much less important than ‘playing the game’. This required self-discipline, a sense of honour, responsibility, helpfulness to others, loyalty and patriotism, all of which go to make ‘character’.

‘Playing the game', in the opinion of many of the time, was the essence of life. It might well include ‘making the supreme sacrifice’, and, if so, that was not to be shirked. The anthem of the times was Henry Newbolt’s poem ‘Vitai Lampada’ (see figure), a poem from which, when teamwork was required, Leslie would quote with gusto either the first few lines, or simply the last.

 

Perhaps almost predictably, after Charterhouse BP joined the army. Although he had few academic abilities he enjoyed acting and had a love of nature study and camping. He won scholarships for both the cavalry and the infantry and joined the former in 1876. His time in the army was spent in India and Africa and he rose rapidly through the ranks. The opportunity for fame and glory came during the Boer War in South Africa in 1899 when, as commanding officer, he held out in the small town of Mafeking against an enemy siege for 217 days and received astonishingly positive publicity in the English press. The army was less enthusiastic and considered that BP had allowed himself to be trapped in Mafeking and then done very little to break out! Nevertheless the army had a hero in a war that had otherwise gone badly, and could not afford to be curmudgeonly about it.

During the siege of Mafeking BP had learned how useful boys could be when given real responsibility and on his return to England, and a hero’s welcome wherever he went, BP began to be interested in the young men of the country. At the time there was a widespread perception that the youth of England were not up to it, that the army would be unable to find sufficient recruits of the necessary quality and that the Empire would ultimately suffer. This was against a background of increasingly belligerent German militarism and a growing conviction that war would ensue.

BP studied the Boys Brigade and other youth movements, and after carefully enlisting the support of many influential members of the establishment, he finally launched his own movement following a successful trial camp in 1907 on Brownsea Island in Poole harbour. ‘Scouting for Boys’, the ‘bible’ of the Scout Movement, was published in fortnightly parts to a carefully prepared public from January 1908 and the Scout movement took off at an astonishing rate.

Across the country boys banded together to form ‘patrols’ of about six lads, and these joined into ‘troops’ under the aegis of some sympathetic adult leader, who became the Scout Master and registered the unit with an emerging central authority under BP’s control.

A Scout Law, shown below, was quickly developed, made up, as BP was keen to point out, of things that were to be done, unlike the Ten Commandments, which say what were not. Originally there were nine Laws, but a tenth had already been added by 1911, and so applied at the time Leslie Dunkerley joined the movement. To reinforce the importance of the Scout Law, an Oath or Promise was developed, which in its original form was as follows:

 

On my honour I promise that –
I will do my duty to God and the King.
I will do my best to help others, whatever it costs me.
I know the scout law, and will obey it.


The Scout Law, together with the official explanatory notes of the time, is quoted below.


A SCOUT'S HONOUR IS TO BE TRUSTED
If a scout says: "On my honour it is so," that means that it is so, just as if he had taken a most solemn oath. Similarly, if a scout officer says to a scout, "I trust you on your honour to do this," the scout is bound to carry out the order to the very best of his ability, and to let nothing interfere with his doing so. If a scout were to break his honour by telling a lie, or by not carrying out an order exactly when trusted on his honour to do so, he would cease to be a scout, and must hand over his scout badge, and never be allowed to wear it again – he loses his life.

A SCOUT IS LOYAL
to the King, and to his officers, and to his country, and to his employers. He must stick to them through thick and thin against anyone who is their enemy, or who even talks badly of them.

A SCOUT’S DUTY IS TO BE USEFUL AND TO HELP OTHERS
And he is to do his duty before everything else, even though he gives up his own pleasure, or comfort, or safety to do it. When in difficulty to know which of two things to do, he must ask himself, "Which is my duty?" that is, "Which is best for other people?" – and do that one. He must Be Prepared at any time to save life, or to help injured persons. And he must do a good turn to somebody every day.

A SCOUT IS A FRIEND TO ALL, AND A BROTHER TO EVERY OTHER SCOUT, NO MATTER TO WHAT SOCIAL CLASS THE OTHER BELONGS
Thus if a scout meets another scout, even though a stranger to him, he must speak to him, and help him in any way that he can, either to carry out the duty he is then doing or by giving him food, or, as far as possible, anything that he may be in want of. A scout must never be a SNOB. A snob is one who looks down upon another because he is poorer or who is poor and resents another because he is rich. A scout accepts the other man as he finds him, and makes the best of him. "Kim," the boy scout, was called by the Indians "Little friend to all the world," and that is the name that every scout should earn for himself.

A SCOUT IS COURTEOUS
That is, he is polite to all – but especially to women and children and old people and invalids, cripples, etc, And he must not take any reward for being helpful or courteous.

A SCOUT IS A FRIEND TO ANIMALS
He should save them as far as possible from pain, and should not kill any animal unnecessarily, even if it is only a fly – for it is one of God’s creatures.

A SCOUT OBEYS ORDERS of his patrol leader or scout master without question. Even if he gets an order he does not like he must do as soldiers and sailors do, he must carry it out all the same because it is his duty; and after he has done it he can come and state any reasons against it: but he must carry out the order at once. That is discipline.

A SCOUT SMILES AND WHISTLES
under all circumstances. When he gets an order he should obey it cheerily and readily, not in a slow, hangdog sort of way. Scouts never grouse at hardships, nor whine at each other, nor swear when put out. When you just miss a train, or someone treads on your favourite corn – not that a scout ought to have such things as corns – or under any annoying circumstances, you should force yourself to smile at once, and then whistle a tune, and you will be all right. A scout goes about with a smile on and whistling. It cheers him and cheers other people, especially in time of danger, for he keeps it up then all the same. The punishment for swearing or using bad language is for each offence a jug of cold water to be poured down the offender’s sleeve by the other scouts. It was the punishment invented by the old British scout, Captain John Smith, three hundred years ago.

A SCOUT IS THRIFTY
That is, he saves every penny he can, and puts it into the bank, so that he may have money to keep himself when out of work, and thus not make himself a burden to others; or that he may have money to give away to others when they need it.

A SCOUT IS PURE IN THOUGHT, WORD AND DEED (This was added in 1911 and so was there before Leslie became a cub in 1916).

 

The Scout Law is understandably seen as fitting a code of ‘obey, have honour, be loyal, do it, don’t ask questions’ that came from the public schools and was designed to produce dependable youth to help ‘fortify the wall of empire’. Gradually changes were introduced.

Besides the Law and Promise there was also a motto, based on BP’s own initials. It was ‘Be Prepared’. For what? For anything!

Whatever ulterior motives there may, or may not, have been behind the creation of the Scout Movement, it clearly filled a need, mostly, it appears, amongst the lower-middle class rather than the obviously working class boys. This would have some unavoidable political consequences. Scouting appealed to lads who were often caught up in a hard and unattractive world of industry. It appealed to their sense of adventure and allowed them to indulge in fantasies of excitement. It encouraged them to work for proficiency badges and gave them a uniform on which to show them off. It provided some standing in the community. For those who lived in industrial cities, it took them off camping to the clean air of the countryside and gave them a sense of comradeship, team spirit and self-sufficiency. Although the insistence on loyalty and doing one’s duty might have encouraged many to join up unthinkingly for the mass slaughter of the First World War, it is hard to lay the blame for this on Scouting. The slaughter would probably have happened in any case and was more a consequence of the industrialization of conflict than any new ideology.

When Scouting appeared, the lads of Failsworth were quick off the mark such that the '7th Manchester Boy Scout Group (St. John’s, Failsworth)' was founded in 1908. In 1915, during the First World War, the Wolf Cubs, a junior scout section, was formed for youngsters between the ages of 8 and 12. This was right on cue for Leslie who was 8 in the January. He joined up immediately and thus became one of the world’s first Cubs.

It is a fair assumption that Leslie’s older brother, Lewis, also became a Wolf Cub. By about 1917 Leslie was 10 years old and had become a Sixer (leader of his group of six cubs) as shown in a photograph of the time taken with brother Lewis in Scout uniform. Thus, still a schoolboy, Leslie already had responsibilities. His relationship with brother Lewis only grew and deepened. I now know that Albert became a member of the 'Seventh', where he was a very good drummer in the band, but he seems not to have been as keen as Lewis, who
eventually went on in 1929 to become a much-loved Group Scout Master.

Leslie, too, prospered in Scouting and later looked back on his days in the movement with nostalgia. He made friends that lasted a lifetime and developed a love of the outdoors. He progressed through Cubs and Scouts to become a Rover Scout at age 17 and continued to be connected with the Rovers until towards the end of the 1930s.

Leslie spent many happy weekends camping with the scouts. There appear to have been many camps, among them regular outings to Simister, near Heywood; the lads would walk there from Failsworth, hauling their camping equipment in a ‘trek cart’ made to last by ‘Oscar’ Wolstenholme, and once installed Leslie, as the Scout leader, would feed them on a rich and varied diet of jam sandwiches, jam on bread, jam butties and bread with jam on top! His culinary skills never progressed much beyond jam butties, although he could also prepare a tasty ‘bubble and squeak’, that he claimed to have served at Scout camp.

Camping must have broadened Leslie’s horizons. For a Failsworth lad, a trip to Simister without parents would initially be quite an adventure. But in time he camped further afield, for example on the Isle of Anglesey, at St Annes on Sea, and in the Lake District, which latter he could get to by a combination of bicycle and train. Leslie developed a love of the Lakes that he passed on to friends, his wife and his children.

In about 1929 Leslie went to work for a couple of years in Leeds and while there he linked up with the 13th NW Leeds Scout Group at St. Michael and All Angels Church in Headingley. In fact he became the Assistant Scout Master there and on his return to Failsworth became Scout Master at St. John’s in August 1931.

Leslie also enjoyed, through Scouting, the experience of international brotherhood when he attended the Arrowe Park jamboree near Liverpool in 1929, at which BP shook him by the hand. In later years Leslie would proudly offer his hand to young Scouts with the greeting "Shake the hand that shook the hand of BP!" Scouting also first took Leslie abroad when he very much enjoyed attending a jamboree at Budapest, Hungary, in 1933. He continued as Scout Master at St. John’s until 1937.

Scouting was of fundamental importance to Leslie. It is hard to know now if it appealed to values already in his young character, if it put those values there, or if it simply reinforced the way he was. My feeling is that it was this last. The ideas of honour and loyalty were fundamental to everything Leslie ever did. Those of being useful and helpful to others appealed to a nature that took delight in being able to be of use and assistance. The concepts of open friendliness and fraternity came easily to Leslie, and he was always courteous (even deferential to duly constituted authority), especially to ‘the ladies’, to whom he would touch or doff his hat – always a trilby – as a matter of course. Leslie’s courtesy, by his own admission, sometimes went under the name of ‘soft soap’ – he was quite smart enough to know that being courteous helped him to get his way!

We have already discussed Leslie’s sense of humour, so even if he did not exactly ‘smile and whistle under all difficulties’ (not easy to do both at once!), there was often a twinkle in his eye and he would habitually tip a conversation into laughter. I never heard Leslie swear and have good reason to believe that he rarely, if ever, told a joke that could not have been told in front of children. He neither smoked, nor drank in more than an abstemious way (his favourite 'beer' was ginger beer), and never bet on the football pools, the horses or the dogs. On the contrary, he was naturally thrifty which allowed him the pleasure of being generous when he felt there was cause. It is therefore difficult to imagine that Leslie saw the Scout Law as anything other than an affirmation of how he thought fit to live his life; if BP hadn’t written it, Leslie might well have done it for him.

Scouting gave much to Leslie, not least a thorough grounding in leadership and an appreciation of the importance of teamwork, honour and dependability. He took all the qualities he had learned or practiced in Scouting with him into later life and was proud of them. When you shook hands with Leslie, you did it as the Scouts did, with your left hand, because the left hand was nearer the heart and you gave your heart (and soul) to what you held dear.

 


Rugby

The second great love of Leslie’s life was rugby. We do not know how he first got involved in the sport – probably someone interested in the game spotted that he was very fast and got him to go for a trial. And he was fast; he reckoned that he could run 100 yards in ‘even time’, i.e. 10 seconds dead. I have been told that anyone able to do this, at that time, without specialist training, was exceptional.

It appears that Leslie was introduced to the sport in 1920 when he was 13 years old and therefore still a schoolboy, for he probably stopped in 1937 and always said that he had played ‘open age’ rugby for 17 years. In all that time he only ever found two players that he could not catch, and one of them ran for England!

Leslie’s first club was Oldham – ‘Oldham Rugby Union Football Club’ to give it its proper name, or "O. R. U – How Are You?" as the players joked. He probably played for Oldham for about nine years until early in 1929, for there was a photograph in ‘The Manchester Guardian’ of him with the Oldham Club on March 2nd of that year (see left).

Almost immediately afterwards, he took a new job in Leeds where he played rugby for Headingley for a couple of years before returning to the Manchester area and linking up with Broughton Park rugby club for a time. On 4th January 1931 he and brother Clare visited Twickenham, 'the home of rugby' and must have enjoyed watching England beat New Zealand. He ended his career by founding a team in Failsworth with the Rover Scouts at St. John’s and finally hung up his boots shortly before he began courting his future wife in 1938.

Being of slight build – his playing weight probably never reached 10 stones – he played as a back, on the wing and at centre. Possibly the highlight of his rugby career occurred while at Oldham when he won a county trial with Lancashire. This took place on 10th October 1928 at Moor Lane, Kersal Vale in Salford when he played for the ‘Blues’ with number 16 at ‘three-quarter back’ (left wing). However it was a wet day and a heavy ground, totally unsuitable for a flyer such as him to show to advantage, and he progressed no further. I would bet that he hardly saw the ball under such conditions.

There might have been another highlight. A newspaper report, probably from ‘The Manchester Guardian’, almost certainly in 1935, tells us:


 



RUGGER IN A HEAT WAVE

ROVER SCOUTS’ TUSSLE AT JAMBOREE

From our London Correspondent

FLEET-STREET, Wednesday.

Several members of Lancashire rugger clubs are going to play in a hot game at the end of this month. They are representing the British Rover Scouts in a match which will be played against a Swedish team of similar origin. The game will be played during the second world Rover Moot in Sweden … and a heat wave is predicted.

A fairly strong side has been got together to represent the British Empire. The players include J. L. Dunkerley of Lancashire.

 



Did he go to the Rover Moot in Sweden? Did he play in the match? Did he represent ‘the British Empire?' In fact we don’t know, but he kept the newspaper cutting so perhaps that is evidence that he did. We do know that St. Johns sent a delegation to the Stockholm meeting in 1935, for a report by no less an authority than Leslie himself tells us so in the St. John’s Centenary celebration booklet, published in 1937.

Leslie kept other press cuttings of his ‘rugger’ days. One is of a ‘Rovers’ Inter-City Match’, probably in 1930. Manchester Rovers beat Liverpool Rovers by the slimmest of margins, 6 points to 5. The match took place at Fallowfield and J. L. Dunkerley was the Manchester captain:

 

"Manchester held the advantage at forward – H. Woodhead and F. Tompkins in particular being prominent – but the Liverpool defence was very keen and the work of their three-quarters interesting to watch.

It was nearly half-time before F. J. Coutts went across for Liverpool near the corner flag. The same player converted.

After the interval Manchester attacked and E. Womack went over in a favourable position but H. Ramsey failed to convert. Shortly before the finish one of the Liverpool players claimed a try, but the referee disallowed it.

Then Manchester relieved the pressure, and J. L. Dunkerley went through the opposition with a brilliant swerving run from the halfway line."

 

Leslie loved his rugby and had many tales to tell. In one game his side got thrashed many points to nil, yet he took pride in the fact that the only player from the opponent’s team not to score was the one he was marking. Being slight but fast he had to be a ferocious tackler. He quoted the rhyme:

 

  Low, low, go for him low,
  Whether he’s fast or whether he’s slow,
  If you go high, he’ll hand you off so…
  Why don’t you go for him low?

  He also used to point out that "they can’t run without their legs!"

On another occasion Leslie received a pass in open space and as he set off for the opposing try-line immediately became aware of two large opposing forwards bearing down on him from either side, with looks of murderous intent on their faces. At the last moment he ‘slammed on his brakes’, to such good effect that the two men met head-on in front of him. One of them knocked himself out, the other bit through his lip. Both went off and Leslie’s team won the game!

Bits of rugby vernacular stayed with Leslie in later life. I was always slightly puzzled when he described anything that was excellent, for example his wife, as "The best wife in the Northern Union". I knew it had something to do with rugby, but discovered only recently that the Northern Union was a group of rugby union football clubs, of which it appears Oldham was an early member, that adopted new rules allowing players to receive payments and eventually became the modern Rugby League. Headingley might also have been in ‘the Northern Union’ for it seems that the Leeds Rhinos practice ground is the old Headingley ground where Leslie used to play.

Another bit of rugby-speak that lingered was ‘to sell a dummy’. This was considered a good tactic in many situations in life, likely to produce the desired result. It had nothing to do with comforting babies! Yet again there was the concept of 'going round the blind side', meaning to do that which was not obvious to gain a (fair) advantage.

Rugby was a mucky sport. When playing for the Rovers Leslie had the pleasure of playing with younger brother Clare. My cousin Jean tells how the two of them used to return home with filthy rugby kit and be ordered by their mother to leave it all in a bucket at the back door!

Other rugby colleagues at the Rovers were Eric Brereton and F. ‘Oscar’ Wolstenholme. Eric told me that Leslie’s rugby nickname was ‘Dirty Dunkerley’, not for the way he played, of course, but due to the fact that he tackled a lot and always finished up with mucky kit, and also because it was a nice alliteration. Besides, it played well with the visiting team.

Oscar, fabled maker of the St. John’s scout trek cart, was a tall rangy man who was the Rovers goal kicker. The trouble was he was short sighted and couldn’t see the goal posts! However, in those days one player used to lie on the ground with a finger on top of the upended ball to support it ready for the kick. When Oscar was kicking, this player had an additional vital role, for the big man used to ask "Am ah in line wi’ th’ props?" The ball holder’s job was to bring him round a bit this way or that and once thus aligned Oscar would waft the ball goalwards with, if we are to believe the legend, an accuracy akin to that of the modern Jonny Wilkinson! It always went over!

Being so slight, over a seventeen-year period Leslie inevitably suffered some injuries. He accepted these with good grace and in later life wrote to me in a letter: "To think I won gold medals (championships!) playing cricket for St. John’s Sunday School (at which I was no good, but enjoyed muchly) and got nowt from Rugger, only a broken collar bone and concussion 3 times!" It was perhaps a blow received in rugby that led to a detached retina and effectively to the loss of the sight in one eye in about 1966.

For Leslie, rugby was a passion; it was the game that represented life ("There’s a breathless hush in the close tonight?"), it was played to win, but in the old sporting spirit where, if you did not win you congratulated the other team on their victory, with genuine pleasure at their achievement. At least that was how Leslie played it. Years later, at the age of 89, Leslie still looked back fondly on his 17 years of rugby. The nurses in Stamford hospital got to hear about it. Several times!

 


Continuing education and employment

When he reached the age of fourteen in 1921 Leslie’s school days were over and he had to find a job. This was just when the speculative bubble that had appeared in the cotton industry after the First World War was bursting and the prospect of unemployment was staring everyone in the face (read about the experience of his father,
Billy Dunkerley, and the history of the Regent Mill. Read also
the poem 'Owdham Wakes'). We don’t know if Leslie had ever imagined himself going into the cotton industry, as had practically every member of his family for several generations, perhaps to work alongside his father in the Regent Mill. However, he did not go into it. In fact he became a white-collar worker by obtaining a position as ‘office boy’ at Andrew Knowles and Sons Ltd., who owned four collieries at Agecroft, in the valley of the River Irwell at Pendlebury. It is not clear where Leslie actually worked but among the duties he performed was that of going round to collect payment from householders for the coal that had been delivered. On one occasion Leslie had to collect from a customer who lived alongside a foul-smelling gas works. As he stood in the doorway receiving payment Leslie gasped to the man "How can you stand this awful smell?" "What smell?" the man replied!

Although Leslie’s day-school days were over, his education was not and he continued studying at night school and by correspondence courses. For three years he studied the usual commercial subjects of Pitman’s shorthand, book-keeping and typing at Mather Street in Failsworth, and then continued for a further three years at the High School of Commerce in Whitworth Street, and in the Danleigh Buildings in Spring Gardens, both in Manchester. He clearly did well, eventually passing independent examinations of the Lancashire and Cheshire Institute. Subsequently he did additional studying by correspondence course. As a boy I remember finding framed certificates in an old suitcase under my bed informing me that James Leslie Dunkerley had passed his exams in the aforementioned three subjects. Even as a child I remember being struck by the fact that the marks achieved were very high. At least one was, I believe, 100%, another 97%. Sadly, the certificates no longer survive but I suppose the fact that they were framed meant that someone was proud of the achivements they represented.

Leslie’s efforts led to some advancement at work for he was promoted to Assistant Bookkeeper, his boss being a somewhat lazy person who was happy to take advantage of a keen and competent young helper. Leslie told me he was aware that he was being ‘put on’, but enjoyed the work and the experience that he was gaining. He left the company soon after completing his studies when about twenty years old.

Unemployment in the cotton and associated industries was still increasing when, in 1929, Leslie decided he wanted a different job and answered an advertisement in the Manchester Guardian for a sales position in the Manchester area. The company was J. E. Ellis Ltd., Wholesale and Manufacturing Chemists and High Grade Perfumers and Cosmeticians of Horsforth, near Headingley, Leeds. One of its most famous products was the ‘Daisy Headache Powder’, which Leslie seemed surprised to learn, many years later, I’d never heard of! The interviewer was the company secretary who quickly realized Leslie had more to offer than selling and invited him to move to Leeds as his personal assistant. Leslie accepted the post and made the adventurous move to Headingley where he continued to be 'put on'. At Ellis’s he was in charge of the Accounts Department and, according to a leaving reference given to him by the Managing Director, the eponymous J. E. Ellis, he had ‘proved himself thoroughly reliable and trustworthy’. They were ‘sorry to lose him’ and could ‘confidently recommend him for any position of trust’. He later told me that he ended up getting senior experience while working as a junior, but this eventually led to new opportunities.

At Headingley Leslie settled in well, living in ‘digs’ (rented accommodation) and becoming a valuable member of St. Michael and All Angels church, and, as already mentioned, Assistant Scoutmaster. But it was while he was in Headingley that the first Great Sadness in Leslie’s life occurred. Back in Failsworth his dearly loved brother Lewis was suddenly taken ill with appendicitis and, before he could be operated on, died on August 15th, 1930.

Lewis had qualified as a plumber, was courting a young lady from the Lake District, was Group Scoutmaster at St. John’s and had everything to live for . Many years later Leslie told me that he still missed his older brother and believed that not a day had passed since Lewis’ death when he had not thought about him. It must have been an awful blow too for Leslie’s father, Billy, and I believe that some of the emotion that father and son still felt is reflected in the dedication written by Leslie in a hymn book given to his father as a birthday present the following December: "To dear Dad, from Leslie, with best love".

The death of Lewis eventually led to Leslie’s return to Failsworth in August 1931, where he took over as Scout Master of St. John’s. The wording of the reference from J. E. Ellis suggests that Leslie had already accepted his next job before he left Headingley, and indeed this would fit in with his own philosophy regarding job changes: ‘Never get off one bus until you see another coming along behind going somewhere better’. This would have been particularly good advice in 1931-32 as this was the time of the worst unemployment that Lancashire had ever seen.

The new job was with ‘H. W. & G. T. Froggatt (Partnership)’, a Failsworth firm of builders. The senior partner, Harry Watson Froggatt, was well known to Leslie’s father, Billy Dunkerley. He was elected to Failsworth Council in April 1931 and served alongside Billy as a fellow Conservative in Billy’s fourth and final year as Chairman of the Council, eventually stepping down at the same time as Billy in 1934. In addition Harry was a member of Ben Brierley Lodge and both he and Billy were candidates to join the Ben Brierley Chapter in March 1936. Leslie became the secretary at Froggatts and began what those who knew him later would regard as an unlikely accumulation of experience of the building trades.

Despite Leslie’s best efforts, and surprisingly in view of the fact that there was a national housing boom in full swing, in about 1934 Froggatts ‘went bust’ and Leslie was left to find another job. Perhaps based on his experience with Froggatts, this turned out to be with the Manchester Corporation Housing Department. Leslie told me that he was one of six appointed from over 200 applicants. His work was at the Clayton estate, a few miles south of Failsworth, where he was an administrative supervisor responsible for carrying out costing and record keeping. On his application to join Ben Brierley Lodge early in 1937 Leslie’s occupation was given as ‘Cashier’.

At this point we must digress from the story of the apparently smooth progress of Leslie Dunkerley, employee. While working at the Clayton estate Leslie was introduced to John Hayward, a builder. Hayward was an un-discharged bankrupt with no proper business records but Leslie agreed to help him by doing his bookkeeping at weekends. Eventually Hayward closed down but this provided Leslie with the opportunity to buy from him a piece of land at Denton, a few miles away, large enough to build six houses. Leslie thus became a ‘Builder and Contractor’ and, putting his brother Albert in charge, started construction. With the outbreak of the Second World War the project ran into difficulties as building materials then became unavailable for private work. Eventually four semi-detached houses were completed, two were sold immediately and two rented out for a number of years prior to their eventual sale. I remember visiting the last to be sold, probably in about 1951. In the end Leslie estimated that his only self-employed venture just about broke even. Had not the war broken out perhaps he would have done better and continued building houses, but it was not to be.

Leslie had decided to look for a different job and had begun attending job interviews. He was still prepared to look outside of the Manchester area and we know that in 1938 he travelled to Blackpool together with Irene, his wife to be, for an interview, but no job resulted. In the end he accepted a position shortly after the outbreak of the Second World War at Taylor Brothers, Manufacturing Joiners, who occupied Froggatt’s workshop, apparently located at 1, Monsall Road, Newton Heath, near Failsworth. The ‘Brothers’ were ‘Jack William’ and ‘Tom’. The business had been established four years previously and was trying hard to grow. Jack, who had known Leslie from his time at Froggatts, recruited him as secretary responsible for all the administration. The business obtained some substantial and urgent orders for black-out work at A. V. Roe’s and Ferrantis, and they also worked for Mather and Platts. With Leslie on board, in its fifth year Taylor Bros. made more profit than it had in the previous four years put together. Tragically, Tom Taylor was killed when he fell through the roof at A. V. Roe’s. The firm continued and Leslie was impressed that they arranged an annuity for Tom’s widow.

Leslie’s next job change was to be his last and took place after the Manchester blitz, on 11th November 1941. It was with St. George’s Engineers Ltd., a medium sized company that had about two hundred employees in its heyday and premises in the bend of Ordsall Lane in Salford, close to Pomona dock on the Manchester ship canal. St. George’s was a family business, already well established in 1924 when Edmund Ashworth, who was to become a much respected colleague and friend to Leslie, had joined.

The business was controlled by two of the founders, Messrs. John Anderson and Herbert Purslow and was able to carry out a range of engineering fabrication such as welded tank manufacture. During the Second World War St. George’s, in common with all engineering firms, contracted to the Ministry of Supply that had been set up to coordinate the war effort. Among the wartime work carried out by St. George’s was munitions work and the fabrication of trestles and parts for Bailey bridges to be used in the Allied invasion of Europe. In post-war times the company developed a considerable expertise in shot blasting, a procedure that used compressed air to fire fine steel shot at dirty or corroded steelwork to clean and polish it. They also developed innovative new shot blasting techniques, one of which involved the use of crushed walnut shells in place of the steel shot and could be used to clean and polish more delicate materials, such as stone. This technique allowed St. George’s Engineers to take part in the post-war work to remove the black grime, caused by generations of coal burning, from many public buildings, resulting in some startling transformations.

Leslie was 34 years old when he joined St. George’s as company secretary and accountant. In 1948 John Anderson died and the terms of his will, published the following March, caused considerable scandal by leaving the bulk of his estate, including his shares in the business, to his personal secretary, Mary Dugdale. An outline of the affair can be read here. Leslie's name appeared in the newspapers as the principle negotiator with Miss Dugdale and, supported by striking workers, eventually arranged to pay off the unlikely beneficiary of his former boss's will. A former employee, who had access to confidential documents, said that Leslie Dunkerley 'saved the company'.

 

It was perhaps as a reward for his judgement and efforts in relation to the Dugdale debacle that soon afterwards, probably by August 1952, Leslie was appointed a director. His work was meticulous and all his addition was done ‘in his head’; he never used a calculator in his life! He was responsible for all the financial control of the business, including detailed costing and preparation of the annual accounts. In relation to these latter, I heard him say, with pride, that the annual accounts had almost always balanced to the penny at the first attempt, and on the odd occasion when they did not he had found the discrepancy within a day or two.

One of his special contributions to the business was the introduction of a profit sharing scheme that was very successful in promoting improved productivity and maintaining good relations with the workforce. As the company prospered, so each worker was able to collect a nice annual bonus.

I remember when I was probably about ten years old – perhaps about 1956 – going occasionally with ‘my Dad’ to St. George’s, mostly of a Saturday morning, so that he could do an hour or two’s urgent work. We’d park the car in a corner of one of the engineering bays and climb a steel staircase up into the offices. They were built with wide corridors, steel partitions with glass panels above, and steel swing-doors. I remember a large drafting office full of impressive drafting tables and lamps. If the visit took place during working time I’d be introduced to people who were very nice to me, and feel rather shy and embarrassed. If it was a Saturday visit I’d be put on a swivel chair at one of the large desks in an office next to Dad’s and allowed to play with paper, rubber stamps, a stapler and other satisfying items, while Dad got on with whatever he’d gone to do. It made me feel a bit special and I’m glad I had the opportunity to visit where he worked.

In April 1971 St. George’s was taken over by a larger competitor. Leslie was asked to continue only until such time as the takeover became effective, which appears to have happened when he was 64 years old, on May 1st 1971. After 50 years of work he now signed on for ‘the dole’ and every week until his 65th birthday the following January he was obliged to get up early each Friday morning to go down to the Labour Exchange in Bury and collect his unemployment pay. He joked that it interrupted his daily lie-ins, but in reality he was beginning to enjoy an early retirement.

St. George’s was very good to Leslie, and no doubt he to it. He dedicated all his thoroughness to the job and not only was it customary for him to work 5½ days a week for many years, but he frequently brought work home and continued late at night at the dining room table in order to have information, or wages, ready in time for deadlines. St. George’s gave Leslie financial stability so that while there he was able to marry, bring up his family, buy his own home (he used the annual bonuses to redeem the mortgage early), and provide a standard of living entirely adequate for his aspirations. The stability that the firm gave also allowed him to develop his career in Freemasonry, as will be explained later.

I don’t know how much Leslie really enjoyed his work; my feeling is that he worked to live rather than living to work. He didn’t really carve out a career nor, while I knew him, was he in any way ambitious. Once he had found a worthwhile job with decent pay and prospects at St. George’s he was happy to stay put. It seems to me that his attitude to work was a personal one, of pride in being competent and doing a good job, of being reliable, honest and diligent, of completely meriting the pay he received and out of which he was able to provide well for his family. As a director, Leslie would have delivered solid information and well-informed opinions to help the board make their contract and investment decisions. I believe that the board of St. George’s truly worked as a team and Leslie was an essential and valued member of that team.

 


Marriage and family

Writing some account of marriage and family is quite a different task to writing one of, for example, Scouting. Not only is there a great deal more factual information available, but also I myself, as his son, am clearly involved, so decisions on what to include or leave out and how to interpret events are more subjective. Parts of this section may, to a greater extent than with other sections, tell a reader more about me than about the object of the account. So, taking a deep breath, here we go!

As we have seen, Leslie’s early years were well occupied with his own busy life. There was school, Sunday school, then Scouts, work, night school, rugby and weekend work. There was Sunday school teaching and other activities at St. John’s church too. It didn’t leave much time for chasing after the fair sex and apart from Leslie’s recollections of girls ‘dressing up’ to dance round the Maypole, we have nothing to tell us how he felt about the lassies.

However Leslie’s life was totally transformed between the ages of 29 and 36. During that period, from 1936 to 1943, his father died unexpectedly, he ended his Scouting, rugby and church activities, became a Freemason, courted and married his wife, began work at St. George’s Engineers, moved from Failsworth to his own home in nearby New Moston and, with the arrival of Christine Mary, started a family. Much of this happened against the background of the Second World War but by 1945, with the war behind him and the bright prospects of a new life opening up in front, Leslie must have felt a sense of wonder and exhilaration.

There is evidence that as Leslie moved towards his thirties he was actively thinking about finding a suitable young lady with whom to share his future. It isn’t hard for me to think of cases where flirtation certainly took place, although there is no hard information as to any relationships developing. Scouts and rugby were likely to be barren ground when it came to prospecting for brides, but St. John’s looked rather more promising.

It was there that Leslie eventually set eyes upon an attractive, unattached young lady called Irene Tuson, the daughter of a respectable businessman from nearby Hollinwood. Irene was nearly ten years younger than Leslie and at the time ran a stationer’s and tobacconist’s shop, which also sold sweets and fireworks (in season), and had a circulating library; it was located at 827 Hollins Road, Hollinwood and belonged to her father. At the time the family lived in the house at the same address. Irene was a shy girl, accustomed to travel and holidays, as her father ran a car, and was keen to get about. He was a successful boot and shoe repairer who employed six or eight men at his own shop, a hard-working man, responsible and definitely in charge. On 22nd March 1938 Leslie took Irene to see a performance of ‘Die Fledermaus’ at the Opera House in Manchester and this marked the beginning of their courtship.

Irene and Leslie used to see each other at church, probably on Sunday evenings, and during the week on Tuesdays and Saturdays. The earliest photo we have of Irene and Leslie together was taken on 10th September 1938 at Bernard and Edna Sheane’s wedding. Leslie conducted a good courtship campaign; there were birthday gifts and cards, Christmas presents, and letters displaying affection, humour and earnestness. By 1940, with the war going badly, there was a more serious tone to the relationship. In a letter to mark Irene’s birthday on 29th November Leslie wished her "health, enough of wealth, friends, the sense of doing some good to others, and so spreading happiness". He says "You have been very dear to me, and we always will remain such sure friends and companions, the one to the other, I know, because of the joy I feel when we are together". But he also sent her humorous verse.

Conditions during the war while they were courting were difficult, with a shortage of all the commodities needed for a normal life. People did as best they could; they made their old clothes do by patching them and they began planting vegetables in their gardens, encouraged by the government to ‘dig for victory’. In short they lived by their wits and tried to make life as pleasant as possible. Leslie wasn’t much good at growing vegetables, though he did try. He did slightly better in taking care of his ‘sweet tooth’ for, although it became impossible to buy normal sweets, he did discover that one could acquire a taste for a certain kind of cough sweet, reasonably freely available from the chemists’!

Leslie was never called up during the Second World War, probably because his occupation in an engineering firm involved in war work was classed as ‘reserved’. He served, however, as a Special Constable and took his turn at patrolling the darkened streets of Failsworth on the lookout for anything untoward, such as careless or accidental breaches of the blackout or to help in case of an emergency such as a bombing. He would, no doubt, have heard enemy aircraft overhead and the rattle of anti-aircraft guns during the blitz on the industrial heartland of Manchester at the end of 1940, when 684 people were killed and large areas devastated[2]. Fortunately very little of that sort befell Failsworth. A stray bomb did drop near to the Wrigley Head (formerly Johnsons’) mill, which prompted the excited exclamation from his Aunt Polly, "All the mills blew out of Johnson’s windows!"

Patrolling the blacked-out streets of Failsworth was not a lot of fun, but Leslie, of course, did it diligently. The training manual instructed special constables on the beat to immediately throw themselves flat on their faces in the event of bombing. One of Leslie’s colleagues was a fastidious sort who confided in him that he had difficulty working out which was the more perilous – to stay upright and risk the bomb blast or throw oneself flat in the pitch dark on the pavement and risk landing in a pile of dog dirt!

Back to more pleasant things. As described before, Leslie had already discovered the enchantment of the Lake District while a Scout and he and Irene managed to make at least one visit to the area, in the company of Irene’s sister Mary and her fiancé Arthur Jones, during the war, in the summer of 1941
.

Getting the job of Company Secretary at St. George's Engineers was the catalyst to the couple getting engaged. Leslie officially started in his new role on November 11th 1941 and on the following day he bought an engagement ring with three diamonds from Gent Bros. at a cost of £11 10s. What Leslie referred to as the date of a ‘great engagement’ was officially 29th November, Irene’s twenty-fifth birthday. However, four days before that a fine Chinese carpet was purchased in Irene’s name. In a letter to mark their engagement Leslie repeated the wishes expressed on Irene’s previous birthday but also wished for her ‘the fellowship of Jesus’. He adds "your sweet companionship and loving regard, I cherish above all things on earth".

Things then progressed swiftly. Banns were read the following January and on 7th February Leslie and Irene were married at St. John’s church in Failsworth. The witnesses were Leslie’s brother Clare and Irene’s sister Mary and her brother Richard. The reception was held at the Union Club in Oldham and the icing on the cake ….. was made of cardboard! There was a war on! The happy couple went to live at 28, Lord Lane, where Leslie had been living with his widowed mother, Selina, and his niece, Jean, daughter of Albert. There they occupied the downstairs front room and a bedroom, and shared the other facilities. It was not ideal. By this time Leslie was working at St. George’s and Irene at the Ferranti works in Hollinwood. The following 4th July Irene and Leslie took delivery of an oak sideboard, matching table and four chairs; they were making a home.

In September 1943, Irene and Leslie’s first child was born, Christine, at St. Mary’s hospital in Manchester. Dr. Strachan, Irene’s GP, was somewhat concerned about Irene because she had been ill with polio when a toddler, and he arranged for her to visit a specialist. In the event the birth went well, with 'just a stitch’. Food in the hospital was Spartan and Irene was obliged to put up with it for ten days while Leslie did what he could to visit, deliver little luxuries such as tomatoes, and kept up a relentless correspondence.

The family continued living at 28 Lord Lane for a time, but eventually Selina and Irene clashed over how best to care for Christine, and Irene fled with her infant to her mother’s home in Hollinwood! After trying unsuccessfully to rent a place of their own in Failsworth, Leslie managed to buy a very pleasant, substantial, modern semi-detached house a mile or so away at 1, Circular Road, New Moston. He was also lucky in that he was able to buy much of the seller’s good quality furniture at a time when there were shortages because of the war. Mother, father and baby daughter had moved in to their new home by October 1944, and the comparatively huge amount of space available, their nice furnishings, and the privacy, must have seemed like heaven on earth!

Two years later, in October 1946, with the war having ended the previous year, Leslie and Irene completed their family when Philip (me!) was born in Boundary Park Hospital, Oldham.

From about that time onwards Leslie and Irene’s family life took on quite an even tenor. Leslie continued bringing home the bacon from St. George’s Engineers and in the evenings pursued his varied interests, especially in Freemasonry. Irene ran the home and looked after the kids, who grew up and went to the local infants and junior schools in New Moston, then on to the local Grammar Schools. A cat – Fluffy – was acquired from the Kershaws at New Moston Inn, and became a part of the family for ten years. A strong family attachment developed with the local St. Chad’s church, where the children went to Sunday school, then church, and were confirmed. Christine went through St. Chad’s Brownies and Guides; Philip went through the local 346th NE Manchester (The Stables) Cubs and Scouts. There were family outings, typically to visit Irene’s sister, Mary Jones, and family at Clitheroe, or with the Jones’ to the seaside at Southport or into the lovely Trough of Bowland. Other than the name of the road changing from ‘Circular’ to ‘Chauncy’, there was considerable stability – just what was needed to bring up a family.

Of course there were also many changes, though these were mostly quite gradual. An exception to this rule was the acquisition of a car, which occurred in about March 1952. Irene had long been used to having the convenience of a car, but such extravagance had not existed in Leslie’s family. As Leslie progressed at St. George’s and as the annual bonuses reduced and eventually paid off the mortgage, so it occurred to Irene that a car could be afforded. She broached the subject with the breadwinner of the family who pointed out that neither he nor Irene was able to drive. To his surprise the response was "We can learn!" And learn they did. Irene passed her test first, soon followed by Leslie.

The first car was a second-hand fawn Ford Prefect – registration KXP 655 – known affectionately as ‘Florrie the Ford’. It was a satisfactory vehicle that could be persuaded to travel in a straight line by constant sawing at the steering wheel. It could be coaxed up to about 60 mph, which seemed immensely fast and dangerous, and probably was! After a couple of years Florrie was traded in for a brand new, bright blue, Ford Consul – registration HBA 199 – dubbed ‘Charlie’. He in time ceded place to a green more powerful Consul Mark II, also called ‘Charlie’ – registration VVR 604. After that Leslie was given a company car and chose a rather grand Hillman Super Minx (registration 8832 TD), from which, memorably, a wheel fell off. But he and Irene also bought one of the trendy new Minis and so became a ‘two-car-family’. I learned to drive in that Mini but can’t remember the registration (it contained an ‘NE’); it was like driving a surf board but seemed wonderful at the time. Later Leslie downsized to a Van den Plas 1100.


Having a car transformed life. Longer day trips became possible, for example into the Peak District, as did holidays further afield - to Woolacombe in Devon, Grange over Sands, Swanage, the Lake District, and later to Scotland! Florrie, Charlie and Co. were shrinking our world! We did not have a car radio, instead we would while away the miles by playing ‘I Spy’ or ‘Dog’ (you had to shout "Dog!" if you saw one first), or we would sing. Leslie had a nice voice and knew many songs, garnered from Scout camp fires, English tradition, Gilbert and Sullivan, and Hymns Ancient and Modern, as well as popular songs. Christine and I added more modern contributions.

We were thus a comfortable middle class family where everything necessary was provided. Besides comfort there was decency and respectability – but little extravagance. There was no hardship but there was a strong sense of thriftiness and respect for money. The pub saw none of the family income, and neither, during that period, did local restaurants. If there was extravagance it benefited the local sweetshops because Leslie and Irene each had a sweet tooth and needed to make up for time lost as a result of rationing during and after the Second World War.

Leslie’s relationship with his wife was probably typical of the time and within the traditions of both their parents. A woman’s place was the home, where Irene was expected to manage the buying, washing, cleaning and care of the children. While in New Moston she never had a share of the family bank account, nor indeed an account of her own. Instead Leslie would ask her how much she needed for immediate expenses, and provide her with the appropriate amount in notes. Larger bills were paid by Leslie from the bank account.

There was always respect and trust between the spouses, in all things, and I never had reason to doubt such trust. Leslie was amenable to progressively introducing labour-saving devices into the home as these came along. So a primitive washtub and dolly gave way to a small Hoover electric washing machine, then a larger ‘Parnall’ top-loader and a drum dryer. There was a Kenwood cake mixer, and an electric potato peeler was tried but ended up on a high shelf at the back of the cupboard.

There was a radio in the living room (it was called a 'wireless'), built by Leslie’s brother, Clare, but no television until I had left school – I sometimes felt left out of the school chat when everyone else was excitedly discussing what was on ‘tele’ the previous night. A compact piano turned up, that I understood had been Uncle Clare’s, and both Christine and I had piano-lesson money invested (not very profitably) in us. Dad would sometimes sit down at the piano and enjoy knocking out tunes by ear – he didn’t read music. Eventually we had a record player, the first records including LPs of The Mikado, The Gondoliers and Flanders and Swan’s ‘At The Drop Of A Hat’ – a wonderful production.

The home was kept well painted and decorated by Mr. Tasker, but there was no do-it-yourself. For one thing, do-it-yourself did not exist then as a concept, but in any case Leslie was famously unschooled in anything to do with tools. His mother had said that Leslie’s work was ‘yed wark’ (see
Glossary
), and I still joke that the only tools in the house while I was growing up were two screwdrivers, a coal hammer and a couple of bed spanners. And that isn’t far off the truth!

The accommodation at Chauncy Road was gradually improved. A substantial back porch or outhouse was added, a garage was squeezed on at the side and a coke bunker at the back complemented the built-in 'coal place'. Leslie’s brother, Albert, built a substantial brick wall to block access from the back garden to the insalubrious wilds of Moston Brook (then an open sewer), St. George’s Engineers installed a children’s swing built of steel girders that may outlast the Eiffel Tower, and a large garden shed became the repository for children’s bicycles and the lawn mower.

Leslie and Irene grew up at a time that very much pre-dated the ‘sexual revolution’. There were morals and respectability. Baden Powell provided instruction to Scouts on how they could overcome the ‘unnatural’ urges to masturbate, which he maintained could damage one's health, and the psychologist Rev. Dr. Leslie Wetherhead, a collection of whose books Leslie accumulated, explained how it could be inappropriate to have sexual relations on the night of the wedding, as the bride might be too tired by the stresses of the day. Couples tended not to be ‘touchy-feely’ and kisses tended to be ‘pecks’ on the cheeks. These were times when birth control methods were unreliable yet families often wanted to avoid having more children than they felt they could afford. For many people, therefore, sex was a risky activity, indulged in to satisfy the rather irksome urges of the husband in an attempt to stop him seeking satisfaction outside the marriage. Female pleasure often did not come in to it.

No doubt some couples cheated on each other or indulged in ‘frivolous sex’, but there is good reason to believe that Leslie and Irene steered a middle course, honoured each other and both drew enough satisfaction from their relationship to feel that they had a loving marriage and reason for contentment. They both knew which side their bread was buttered; they understood the dividends respectability paid and felt it was a fair deal.

There were quarrels, but never blows; there were raised voices, but never swearing; harsh words spoken, but never cruel ones. In the end, as I understood it, Leslie would have the final say. But maybe Irene was the ‘fause’ one (
Glossary
) and perhaps she got her way more often than I appreciated. Leslie and Irene enjoyed over fifty-four largely happy years of marriage together and there is no doubt that their relationship was one of love and respect.

Leslie had married relatively late in life, and therefore became a father relatively late too. By the time the children were old enough to get involved in activities with their father, Leslie had moved on from Scouting, hiking, camping and rugby to Freemasonry. Thus there were very few shared activities. Christine tended to have her own friends, and I mine. Dad didn’t take us to football matches, although we did have the odd visit to see Lancashire play cricket at Old Trafford, and enjoyed watching the seven-a-side rugby competitions with him on a couple of occasions. We were welcome to have our friends round to play with us at home and Leslie’s experience with Scouts and Sunday school pupils, plus his love of a pun, made him popular with such friends. He would play ‘French cricket’ with us in the garden, which everyone enjoyed, but that was as much sporting interaction as we had with him. Christine and I were given swimming lessons and I became a good swimmer, but Dad never went to the ‘baths’ with us.

However we frequently played cards and board games together over the years – Christine and I becoming precociously good at Canasta, and later fair whist players. We played snap, strip-jack-naked, Happy Families, various forms of patience, ludo, Cluedo, snakes and ladders and Donkey (a violent game, much loved!). There was to be no cheating!

If Mum had pretty clear ideas about what we should and should not do, and how we ought to behave, Dad was the one who laid down the law. Mum would rarely smack us, instead saving punishment up for us 'when Dad comes home’. And Dad had a quick hand that hurt! I seemed to bear the brunt and had to contend with Christine telling tales, as well as paying my dues for bad reports put in by Mum. There seemed to be plenty of smacks, and there were arguments too. Many issues were resolved summarily, both with Irene and with me. There was little debate, before a decision was made. Perhaps remarkably, I was never cowed by this procedure, although often overcome, and always seemed to maintain my own point of view. I could be difficult!

Life at Chauncy Road thus continued to unfold. Christine took her school ‘O’-level exams and passed five subjects, following which she left school and went to work at the head office of William’s Deacon’s Bank in Manchester. She discovered the attraction of boyfriends and at age 21 married Clif Cooke at St. Chad’s church in 1964. They went to live at Radcliffe-on-Trent in Nottinghamshire. Philip took ‘O’-levels and then ‘A’-levels, following which he studied geology and geography at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne, graduating in 1969. He joined the mining group Rio Tinto to work in mineral exploration and had spells in Scotland, the USA, South Africa and Brazil, where he met and married Nilma.

Christine and Clif eventually gave Irene and Leslie three grandsons following which Philip and Nilma evened things up by presenting three granddaughters.

After the children left home and as Leslie was approaching retirement, he and Irene decided to move to a bungalow at 555 Bolton Road, Bury, an event that took place in 1966. This then became the base for many happy retirement activities, including helping and enjoying Christine and family, who returned from Nottingham to live close by, and many developments in Freemasonry. Bury was also well situated for easier access to Mary and Arthur Jones at Clitheroe, and to the Lake District where Irene and Leslie bought a fixed caravan at White Cross Bay, Windermere. Many happy times were spent there, often in the company of friends or family, and Christine and Clif bought three cabin cruisers, in succession, each larger than the previous one, which they sailed on Windermere. Irene and Leslie enjoyed several other splendid holidays, with Mary and Arthur Jones and with Doris Warhurst (Irene’s cousin) in Norway (which they loved), Ireland, Austria and Hungary.

In 1984 Christine, Clif and family moved to Northorpe, near Bourne in Lincolnshire, after Clif obtained employment in Peterborough. Irene and Leslie made a number of happy visits there, until the marriage broke down, acrimoniously, in 1986. A divorce followed. This was, I believe, the second Great Sadness in Leslie’s life.

In the meantime Irene and Leslie much enjoyed a visit to Brazil to see Philip and Nilma, and Nilma’s family, in 1978. Philip and Nilma moved from Brazil to Portugal, and then Philip left Rio Tinto to join the Shell Group, working first in the Hague, then Spain, finally Chile. A move to a small Canadian company preceded a return to England in 1991 to provide the three girls with stability for their secondary education. The original plan was to live in the Bury area, but Leslie decided that his active retirement days were over and suggested that he and Irene move to Bourne in Lincolnshire so as to be able to provide better support to Christine and her boys, and to be better able to enjoy their company. Philip and Nilma decided that they too would settle in Bourne to ensure that the girls would have the opportunity to enjoy their grandparents’ company. Irene and Leslie bought a bungalow at 19, Westbourne Park and enjoyed five happy years there before Leslie died.

Leslie and Irene did not have many interests in common. Leslie tended to dedicate himself to Freemasonry, religious studies and an enjoyment of Lancashire dialect, while Irene had lasting friendships with ladies such as Ida Henderson, Margaret Brereton, Alice Howard, her sister Margaret Tuson and her cousin Doris Warhurst. She also enjoyed evening classes in, for example, pottery painting or art, and drove for many years as a volunteer for 'Meals on Wheels', an organization that took hot meals round to the elderly who were unable to cook for themselves. They did, however, always enjoy the company of both Arthur and Mary Jones and besides taking holidays together they had many happy visits to Clitheroe where Arthur revelled in showing them the beautiful countryside of the Ribble Valley and many secluded fine pubs and restaurants.

Leslie and Irene also shared a common view of right and wrong, of what should and should not be done, and they were able to pass on to their children a sense of morality and a set of standards that were reinforced at Sunday School, at Guides and Scouts, at Grammar School and (while young) each evening in family prayers. You tried your best, you were honest, you played fair. Not to do so was to end up with a bad conscience.

These, then, are some facts and recollections about Leslie and Irene’s marriage and family, presented honestly but perhaps not very objectively. It would be difficult to overstate the importance that family had to Leslie. It was a rock upon which he built much of his life and eventually, as age made other vital interests fade gently into insignificance, family was left as one of the main edifices that Leslie had built. He strove always to give enough of himself to his family to nurture it, and was immensely proud of even small achievements of his children and grandchildren, telling them ‘with advantage’ to his many friends. It is impossible to describe the depth and intensity of feeling that he had for the ongoing health and happiness of Irene, Christine and Philip, and his six dearly loved grandchildren. There is no doubt in my mind that when he died Irene, Christine and I were for him the three most important things in the universe.


Finances

There was no silver spoon in Leslie’s mouth, though neither did he ever know real hardship, thus fulfilling one of the expectations of ‘Sunday’s Child’. As a child he was brought up by parents, Billy and Selina, who had pulled themselves out of the working class, and who probably had known real hardship – certainly there is good evidence that Leslie’s mother had had a tough time. But by the time Leslie was born the family was rapidly becoming ‘respectable’.

Billy did possess a nice gold pocket watch, but we know of no other luxuries and certainly, unlike Irene’s family, there was no motorcar. Billy seems to have been doing quite well until the collapse of the cotton industry in 1921
, and had become a shareholder in the Regent mill where he worked. However the shares were eventually worthless and Leslie told me his father had experienced difficult times after losing his job, probably in 1927 or 1928 (see Billly Dunkerley
). He was coming to terms with his new situation as a sales representative for Walker and Homfray’s brewery when he died tragically in 1936. His estate was assessed as worth £309-18s-11d, a not inconsiderable sum in those days, but there is reason to believe that much of that might have come from a life insurance policy that paid off the mortgage on the family home.

After his father died, Leslie was almost certainly the main breadwinner in the family and knew he had to be careful with his money. Certainly he was the one that the family depended on in a practical way, for it was he who obtained probate for his father’s estate, and who arranged for his mother to receive a small widow’s pension. Probably neither his sister Gladys nor his older brother Albert ever had much more than was needed for day-to-day expenses. I understand that Leslie helped put his brother Clare through Goldsmith’s College in London, starting in 1931, and certainly if there was a family need Leslie could be counted on to help out where possible.

Everything Leslie possessed until after he retired, he earned for himself. He heeded the exhortations of the Scout Law and the bible about thrift and saved money when he could. This paid dividends when he and Irene agreed to marry as there was money to pay cash for good furnishings. When the opportunity presented itself they were also able to obtain a mortgage to buy their own home at Circular Road, which may have cost around £900. In those days it was impossible to get a mortgage without having saved a significant amount of money over a period of a few years with the prospective lender. The house was eventually sold for £3,400 in 1966 and replaced by their retirement bungalow at 555, Bolton Road, Bury at a cost of £3,800.

Leslie’s steady employment at St. George’s allowed him and Irene to build up their financial position. Annual bonuses from the company were used first and foremost to pay down the mortgage and spare money was invested safely in building societies and National Savings Certificates. Leslie would have nothing to do with risky investments such as shares, citing his father’s bad experiences with part-paid shares that he maintained had nearly ruined his family, and had in fact ruined many others (see poem). Neither did Leslie have much faith in ‘insurances’; the only one he ever owned was purchased from a struggling Prudential salesman, a friend of a friend, for whom Leslie felt sorry! I remember ‘the man from the Pru’ calling periodically with his books to collect the premiums.

It seems that by about 1951 the mortgage had been redeemed as in 1952 Irene and Leslie felt they could afford a small car, and from then onwards savings began to accumulate. I have recollections of Christine and I being sat down at the dining room table to sign applications for National Savings Certificates after our parents had reached the limit of what they were allowed to have in their own names. The thought went through my mind that really the money was mine and I was rich! Thereafter the pattern of keeping savings on deposit (but seeking out the best rates) and taking up successive generations of National Savings products continued with little variation. The only shares that Leslie was ever persuaded to acquire were the standard allotments of privatisation shares for himself and Irene with the Trustee Savings Bank, of which his good friend Bill Andrew was a manager.

On about 15th March 1944 Leslie had become a member of The Foreman and Staff Mutual Benefit Society (later apparently The Foreman and Staff Friendly Society). This was in effect a pension scheme that he had been instrumental in establishing for the benefit of certain senior employees and the directors of St. George’s. Because there were statutory limits on the F & S pension scheme at that time, F & S made arrangements with Friends Provident for a back-up scheme to, in principle, duplicate their own. This effectively gave rise to two single-life pensions when Leslie eventually retired, probably on 29th January 1971. In 1990/91 F & S was taken over by Britannia Life.

From 1st August 1952 St. George’s started another pension scheme for senior employees, including Leslie, with Northern Assurance Co. Ltd. This gave rise to a joint-life second-death pension and a tax-free cash lump sum that Leslie used to buy a single-life purchased life annuity, both with Commercial Union. In 1973 the St. George’s pensions were £1,048 gross per annum. Only the F & S pension appears to have had any increases in payment such that the gross amount rose, to £1,056 by 1985 and £1,248.24 by 1995/96, the last full year of payment. There was a great deal of inflation during the 1970s and Leslie and Irene’s private pension income was very severely affected. Between 1974 and 1988 Leslie's annual state pension, which benefited from some compensation for inflation, rose from £618 to £2,083, an increase of 337% and far more than his private pension. The consequence was that Leslie and Irene, and many other pensioners in similar circumstances, saw their careful plans for retirement frustrated. They ended up being thrust into the arms of the state, which was in fact responsible for the economic mismanagement of the economy that caused the inflation in the first place. It was a huge confiscation by the government of the private resources of the middle class.


In many ways people will not notice that the fundamentals of the world they live in shift slowly but inexorably over the decades of their lifetimes. We often believe that the lessons we learned in our youth can be applied as our guide and stay - we call it 'experience'. The truth is that we need to keep learning and adapt to circumstances as they change. Leslie grew up and learned to manage his money in times first of deflation (when it paid to be a lender rather than a borrower) and then of low inflation, after the Second World War until the 1960s. However the financial tectonic plates were shifting and UK inflation increased from the late 1960s until the mid 1970s, culminating in 1975 when it reached an eye-watering 24%. Between 1959 and 1987 UK inflation, as measured by the Consumer Price Index, averaged 7.7% per annum, which means that Leslie and Irene’s savings and income were halving in value every 8½ years! This was devastating. At that time it paid to be a borrower rather than a lender, because the real value of a lender’s loans were halving every 8½ years! I remember reading an article in a news magazine, ‘Time’, I think, and trying to understand inflation (which was a worldwide phenomenon just then). I asked Leslie about deposit interest rates on one of his building society accounts. The conversation went something like this: I said, "So, if you have your money on deposit at 8% a year and inflation is 10% a year, at the end of the year you’ve actually lost about 2% of your money haven’t you?" He said: "Well, maybe", and paused before continuing, "but you know, Philip, 8% a year is still a very good rate of interest." This was what he had learned as a young man, and at the time that would have been right. It shows that inflation is a corrosive evil through which the government effectively puts its hand deep into the pocket of every saver and every person in the country living on a fixed income (especially pensioners), and helps itself at will. Leslie did not read any publications that provided sound economic analysis after he retired . He was ever thoughtful, but even thoughtful people, even a retired Company Secretary, find it hard to really understand, and even harder to take avoiding action.

Leslie was always open handed with money. I have already mentioned that he helped out more than one family member who was experiencing financial difficulties, and he was always generous in support of Masonic events and charities. He often paid for friends and their wives to attend ladies evenings, which not only gave him pleasure but also boosted attendance and helped to promote Freemasonry to potential future members.

Irene and Leslie were never extravagant and lived within their means. Not for them foreign holidays while they still had a family to bring up, a posh new car every year or two, or a big house. This allowed them to accumulate sufficient capital to survive the depredations that the inflation of the late 1960s and 1970s wreaked on their private pensions, with concern but ultimately without hardship.

Both concern and hardship were providentially ameliorated by three unanticipated inheritances during the 1970s, just when inflationary devaluation of Sterling was at its worst. The first was half the value of the house of Gladys Stott (Leslie's sister), about £2,000, after Gladys died in 1975. The second was probably about £2,700, representing one third of the value of Irene’s mother’s house after sister Margaret Tuson had died in 1976. The third, probably a larger amount - and totally unexpected - came after Irene’s cousin Doris Warhurst died in 1977. Irene and Leslie’s trip to Brazil was financed out of the generosity of cousin Doris.

Leslie was thrifty, yet generous. He was responsible and took the family finances seriously, yet he had no love of money. He wanted enough to maintain the family standard of living and a bit to spare so that he could occasionally do something special, like treat someone or have a nicer holiday. He was successful in that the resources he left were adequate to ensure that Irene would want for nothing, and to provide family help where needed. He must have been satisfied with the way he had managed, and relieved that things had finally worked out. To close this section I shall add a poem in Lancashire dialect by Joseph Baron, about attitudes to money, that Leslie found sufficiently relevant to type out and use as a bookmark.

 

    SOME FOOAK  

 

    Glossary


    Ther’s some fooak are olez on t’ chunner
    An’ there’s nob’dy can tell wot abeawt;
    An’ there’s others as look black as thunner
    They’re as sacklus as hens are i’ t’ mowt.
    They’re young an’ they’re strong an’ they’re healthy,
    They possess every God-given sense:
    But they’re not wot they choose to call ‘wealthy’ –
    Meanin’ sov’rins an’ shillin’s an’ pence.

    A mon may have brass an’ be ailin’ –
    May be fizzickt his life through bi’ quacks –
    May be worried to death abeawt failin’ –
    In his morals may be rayther lax –
    May be vulgar, be childless an’ friendless –
    Hev no pleasures but bettin’ an’ booze –
    May hev worries and warches ‘at’s endless,
    Yet – be envied bi theawsands o’ foos.

    Poor foo’s it’s for shadows yer pining
    An’ yo’ve substance reight under yo’r een;
    Up aboon yo’ God’s lamps may be shining
    As yo’ rake up yo’r muck-heaps so keen:
    An’ yo’ scrape an’ heap up an’ keep sighing,
    An’ God’s marvels are lost to yo’r seet,
    While yo’r brief stay on earth here is flying,
    Then, of a sudden – how sudden! it’s neet.

    Oh, look on yon breet orb descendin’
    In a glory o’ crimson an’ gowd –
    On yon ocean as tempests are rendin’
    Wi’ a fury, sublime to behold,
    On each bonny green vale an’ each river,
    On mountains, on brids and on trees,
    Ay, an’ think as yo’ thank the Great Giver,
    Could earth’s treasure buy marvels like these?

    Oh list to sweet song as is ringing
    From yon thrush to his mate up i’ t’ nest –
    Stop an’ hearken yon young muther singing
    To her babe as it smiles at her breast;
    Hear each hard-workin’ thing ‘at’s created
    As it utters it’s innermost bliss –
    Is sich rapture bi gowd estimated?
    Could a million buy music like this?

    Hev yo’ just a green hill to walk up to,
    An’ a song fro’ a linnet or lark?
    Hev yo’ just an owd crony to talk to,
    Or a book, when yo’ve finished yo’r wark?
    Hev yo’ wife and young childer as love yo’
    An’ mek breeter yo’r life wi’ their mirth?
    Then, thank God in His Heaven above yo’ –
    For yo’r t’ blessedest mortal on earth!

 


Lancashire Dialect

 

(Go to article discussing the origins and development of Lancashire dialect)

As can be seen from the poem above, Leslie had a deep interest in Lancashire dialect. It is almost certain that his father, Billy, spoke Lancashire dialect as a boy and at his work in the cotton mills, although he would more and more revert to Standard English as he grew older and moved into wider social circles. Billy used to say: "Put can’t at th’ back of ‘th dur and try again", which is Lancashire both in structure and in tradition, and of course he was responsible for calling Leslie ‘Jammy o’ th’ potates’, which is hardly regular English!

Leslie did not use Lancashire dialect even among friends – I’m not aware that any of them spoke it, so he had no cause or excuse – but he had an abiding love for it both as a language and as a repository of Lancashire wit and wisdom. I don’t know that he inherited any dialect books from his father, although he might have done, but in time Leslie came to have an interesting collection of dialect books of his own. There were twenty volumes of the works of Ben Brierley, eleven volumes of the works of Edwin Waugh and works by Tim Bobbin and Ammon Wrigley, among others. He also owned a number of anthologies that included works by Sam Laycock, Sam Fitton, and many other writers, and strayed into Yorkshire dialect and even Geordie! Inevitably he had books of poems by Robert Burns, one of the first poets to write in vernacular English (though a Scot!). Leslie was quick to point out that Burns, Waugh and, of course, Brierley, were Freemasons. Thus were mixed ‘business’ and pleasure!

Unfortunately Leslie’s collection of dialect books was broken up some years before he died while I was abroad, under the mistaken impression that they did not interest me. Most went to be sold via brother Clare, but by good luck and the kindness of Clare’s wife, my Auntie Brenda, I have been able to recover a fair number of them.

Leslie had a love for words, expressed at different times of his life in jokes (particularly puns), in his dedication to word-perfection in Masonic ritual, in dialect itself, in word-games from newspapers, and last – but not least! – in Scrabble, of which he became a devotee (addict?) in his declining years.

Beyond Lancashire dialect, Leslie had a wider regard for poetry, and possessed a number of books of poetical works, notably including the complete works of Rudyard Kipling (also a Freemason) and Tennyson’s poetical works, plus various anthologies. Quite frequently Leslie found he could combine his interests in Freemasonry, or the spiritual dimension, with his love for dialect, poetry, or both.

Leslie’s interest in poetry and dialect extended beyond an appreciation of these arts, for he was occasionally moved by the Muse, writing under the cunning nom-de-plume of ‘J. Eldon Curley’. He would probably never have claimed to have written poetry, but he certainly produced verse!

The oldest example of his verse I can find was perpetrated on Irene in a letter sent on the occasion of her 24th birthday in 1940, about the time of the Manchester blitz when there was always the threat of air-raid sirens. It may be recalled that at the time Irene worked attending the public in her sweet cum tobacconist shop that also loaned out library books. Thus quoth the poet:

 

24th BIRTHDAY ODE

To write at a table, I now sit down to
Send you greetings, I feel bound to
When I think of you, behind the counter
(Pause while the romantic thought seeps well in) …
I hope you’ll be fit, with muscles all a-crack-o,
I hope you’ll sell all your tobacco.
I wish you all the wealth of Dukes,
By letting out your library books.
And when night comes with rest for Irene,
I hope she sleeps bowt hearing sireeeeen.

 

In spite of this assault on her good taste and sensibilities, Irene was clearly a sucker for punishment as she still later married him!
A more serious effort also dates from 1940 when J. Eldon Curley wrote the following verse for the programme to accompany the Ben Brierley Lodge December Ladies Evening:

 

THE LADIES

Some folk we’ll treasure o’ eaur lives,
Eaur Mothers, Sisters, Sweethearts, Wives.
We’re proud o’ them and reightly so –
They’re gradely foalk, Ah’d have thi know.
They’ve gan us o’ good lifts on t’way,
We owe ‘em mooar ner we can pay;
And but for them, as yo’ll allow,
There’d be no sich things as Masons neaw.

There’s nowt to match thi Mother’s luv,
Hoo nursed thi – tender as a dove;
When tha were young an’ helpless too,
Hoo sacrificed so mich for you.
So think o’ every Mother wi’ pleasure,
Good Wives an’ Ladies o’, let’s treasure;
To men they act like lumps o’ leaven,
And bring to earth the touch o’ Heaven.

Then while we’re here – afore we’re gonners,
Let’s toast ‘em wi fullest honours;
So men an’ Masons at this party,
Stond to yer glasses – then most hearty.
Drink to the Ladies, a very good health
An’ wish ‘em o’ happiness an’ wealth,
Then having lived upreet, like Failsworth Pow ,
May t’ Good Lord receive ‘em aboon shuzheaw.

 

The most satisfying outlet that Leslie found to express his love for Lancashire dialect came through various talks he gave over the years to groups as varied as the New Moston St. Chad’s Church of England Men’s Society (CEMS) in 1955 (which ordered a repeat performance in 1956 and a third dose in 1958), St. Paul’s Methodist Women’s of Shaw in 1963, a group at Dunham Massey in 1981 and the Middleton Masonic Fellowship in 1982.

At these meetings Leslie would read a selection of dialect poems and no doubt conduct discussions of both the poems and the medium, thus helping to prolong an interest in a language rich in vocabulary, expression and local history. As an example there follows one of Leslie’s favourites, by Sam Fitton, that appears on all his lists.

 

MY OWD CASE CLOCK

Glossary


We o’ han cherished things no doubt,
We somehow feel we cornt do ‘bowt:
Some furniture we value heigh,
We’n things ‘at money couldna’ beigh.
I have an owd case-clock a’ whoam
I wouldna’ sell for any sum;
It stood i’ th’ corner, so I’m towd
When first I coom to live i’ th’ fowd ;
It stons theer yet, an’ neet an’ day
It measures time an’ ticks away –
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

Its cheery dial seems to say:
"Let’s laugh to while the time away,"
An’ though it hasno’ changed its chime
It’s sin some changes in its time;
It’s gazed on o our household crew,
It’s watched ‘em come, it’s watched ‘em goo.
When little Jack were ta’en one day
It watched us side his things away,
An’ when our tears began to flow
It said "Cheer up, Time heals, I know;
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

It’s like a sentinel i’ th’ nook;
Th’ owd lad con read me like a book,
An when I’ve had an extra glass
It seems to know, it does bi’ th’ Mass!
That clock’s both human an’ divine;
One neet I geet a bit o’er th’ line;
It chuckled, as it winked one e’e:
"Tha’s had a drop to’ mich I see,"
It hiccupped, "Well tha art a foo";
The beggar seemed to wobble too: –
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

When little Bill were born, th’ owd clock
Seemed fain to have one moor to th’ flock,
But while it smiled it little knew
His mother wouldna’ live it through;
It watched ‘em lay her in her shroud
An’ somehow didna’ tick so loud;
It seemed to say: "There’s trouble here,
They’n lost their main-spring, too, I fear;
I’ll howd my noise till th’ trouble’s o’er."
But now it ticks on as before: –
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

It’s sin some marlocks in its time,
When I were young an’ in my prime
It watched me courtin eawr Nell;
It seed us kiss, but winno tell;
It seed me smile on th’ weddin’ morn,
An’ swell wi’ pride when th’ first were born;
It’s sin o th’ childer in their pomp;
It’s watched ‘em laugh, an’ sing, an’ romp,
An’ when I’ve joined ‘em in their play
It’s said "I’m fain I’m wick today –
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

Alas! There coom a time when trade
Were bad an’ I felt much afraid
I’d ha’ to sell my dear owd clock
To pay for corn to feed my flock.
I felt distracted. Things grew worse,
An’ when a chap’s an empty purse
An’ hawf-a-dozen meawths to feed,
If he’s a heart it’s bound to bleed.
I sowd th’ owd couch to buy ‘em bread,
An’ th’ owd case-clock looked on an’ said:
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

I axed th’ owd clock: "What mun I do?
I welly think tha’ll ha’ to goo;
I’m loth to part wi’ thee, owd lad,
But th’ childer starve, an times are bad.
Say shall I sell thee, too, owd friend,
Or does ta think ‘at times ull mend?
I know tha’d raise a pound or two,
So mun we part? Come, tell me true."
I welly thowt it shook its yed;
It seemed to frown on me an’ said: –
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

I didna’ sell th’ owd clock at o’,
For times improved. It seemed to know.
It’s like a dog, for wark or play,
It knows quite every word I say.
When times are good it looks so glad;
Its dial drops when times are bad.
Then, like a sage, it ticks an’ sings,
Remindin’ me ‘at time has wings;
An’ when I’ve gone to – God knows wheer,
Th’ owd clock ull still be tickin’ theer:
"Tick, tock; tick, tock."

 

If you would like to read more Lancashire dialect, go to this link.

 


The Christian Dimension


We have already discussed how Leslie was almost certainly a Sunday School scholar at St. John’s church in Failsworth and how he was confirmed there, along with brother Lewis, when he was fifteen years old. He was still a Sunday school teacher at St. John’s up to the age of thirty-one in 1937 (see picture), and he was married there in 1942.

After moving to New Moston in 1944 Leslie continued his church life at St. Chad’s, where I was baptised, where Christine and I attended Sunday school, and where Christine was married. Leslie and Irene normally went to morning service and would contribute half a crown each to collection, a worthy sum in those days (well, it impressed me!). The move to Bury in 1966 brought a transfer to St. Stephen’s church where some years later Leslie ‘flaked out’ (in his own words) during the service on a couple of occasions and finished up in hospital. These experiences so embarrassed him that subsequently, and understandably, he no longer attended church services. However he continued to receive pastoral visits at home, in Bourne from Canon John Warwick, with whom he enjoyed discussions about Christianity.

It was during the period from about 1935 to 1944, while living at Lord Lane, that Leslie discovered the writings of Canon Peter Green and the Rev. Leslie Weatherhead. Over time he acquired ten books of each writer and a number of other religious books, particularly about St. Paul of whom, it would be fair to say, he became something of a scholar. Another writer he admired was H. V. Morton, whose ‘In the steps of the Master’ he bought while in Grasmere in the Lake District in 1941 as a present for Irene. Leslie’s bookcase contained numerous other religious books, including several bibles (Moffit’s translation, the Authorized version and the New English version), the Talmud, the Koran, the Book of Mormon, the Apocrypha, Peake’s commentary on the bible, and a series of books about Palestine. There were also several books on mysticism, and a couple on the origins of the universe.

Many of the books, including virtually all those by Peter Green, are annotated, sometimes heavily so, often in two of three different periods – indicating re-reading of the more treasured volumes from time to time. Frustratingly, many of the annotations are written in Pitman’s shorthand. In addition there are frequent book marks, ranging from the proverbial tram or bus ticket (occasionally with a discernable date) to the more common old envelope used as scrap paper, or a simple sheet of paper. The papers often carry notes, sometimes with page references, in pencil, ballpoint or typed.

Among the marginal annotations it is quite common to find the symbol of a point within a circle. Where this occurs, it often marks a note in the book about the ‘heart’, or ‘God in his Heaven’, something ‘deep in the very nature of man’, ‘the Kingdom of Heaven is within us’, and so on. Clearly this symbol, and what, to Leslie, it represented, was extremely important to him. It is interesting to note that Leslie almost certainly first came across this symbol in Scouting where it was used as a tracking symbol meaning ‘I have gone home’. This was its literal meaning, indicating the end of the trail, but it also came to be used when a Scout died, meaning, ‘I have gone to the Father’. Cousin Jonathan says that Leslie’s sister Gladys told him that this symbol was originally on the grave of Lewis Dunkerley in Failsworth cemetery, but to her disappointment it was later lost. The family has now completed a project to restore the grave, and has replaced the symbol (see photo below).

There is good evidence that Leslie was re-reading his favourite religious books, especially those of Canon Peter Green, into the late 1980s and early 1990s when he could no longer keep up his Masonic activities, especially after he came to live in Bourne. His was a questing mind, a mind continually searching for meaning and understanding in life, for purpose, for enlightenment. Much of his thinking was linked to symbols, especially Masonic or Christian, such as the square and compasses or the cross of Jesus (or the point within a circle). He marked many inspirational passages in his books and would also type out on scraps of paper thoughts or verses that impressed him as important. Some of these he would use at Masonic meetings - as grace before a meal, or to be printed into the various programmes, or in short talks he gave there.

From time to time, after I became a teenager, Leslie and I would have discussions about things that interested us, and these often had a religious or spiritual dimension. It is hard now to recall their precise content, but I do remember with pleasure that they were satisfying experiences and, indeed, one of the greatest senses of loss that I had when he passed away was the knowledge that those discussions could no longer be; it is not easy, for some reason, to find people who enjoy discussions about the big issues in life.

So there is no doubt in my mind that Leslie had a deep Christian faith and experienced many moments of transforming spiritual happiness as his mind linked with the thoughts of others, particularly through the medium of the written word. At such times he felt he had discovered priceless pearls – pearls of wisdom – that he would want to re-locate and re-read, hence the marginal notations and typed copies left in his books and elsewhere.

It is impossible to do anything approaching justice to Leslie’s Christian activity in such a short review as this, for his was a lifetime of study and enquiry. Therefore I am choosing to end here with a copy of one of his own typed transcriptions, found tucked into a book of Canon Peter Green. It seemed important to Leslie, and I can understand why. It comes from a discussion, by a Hindu, of the symbolic meaning of the Cross of Christ.

"The Cross has two simple lines; one horizontal to the earth and one vertical. It is a cross-road or crossing point. The horizontal line equals time – past, present and future (moving in a line A:B:C). We live in that line. The vertical line is Eternity – the now. It is always present; there is no past or future to it. It goes only higher and higher – not forward.

Time and eternity meet where Jesus is crucified: that moment where Jesus died is the now. If you die in the now, you are reborn you are resurrected. Then there is no death for you, because time disappears and you are eternal. The cross is a symbol of time and eternity meeting. And that point must be your death. It cannot be anything else, because when you disappear from the time-world, you become part of eternity. And both cross – where do they cross? Here and now, at this moment they cross. Now is the moment where the cross exists. But if you go on moving horizontally, in the future, then you miss. If you start moving from this very moment vertically, you are on the cross; you will die as you are and you will be re-born – new birth, absolutely new. And through that birth no death exists - Life Eternal! To Jesus the cross was a time symbol: time and eternity crossing. But for Christianity it became a sad death symbol of suffering. If Jesus had been in India and he had not gone to the Jews, and if we had painted the cross – it would have still been the same but Jesus would have been different. He would be just like Krishna; ecstatic, his face smiling, his whole being smiling, because this is the moment of ecstasy. When time disappears, you die to the world of time and you are re-born to the world of eternity – at that moment you must be ecstatic. That is what Hindus have called – samadhi."


Freemasonry[3]

What is Freemasonry?
When I was a young boy growing up in New Moston it was not unusual for me to come home from some activity, such as Cubs or Scouts, to find six or seven cars parked outside our house. This was most unusual in those days and no doubt attracted considerable attention. Once in the house I would discover the presence of a group of perhaps six or eight men who were usually just ending a meeting with sandwiches, cakes and cups of tea. These men always seemed so nice and friendly to me. They were all Freemasons and they were usually having some kind of rehearsal. I formed a good opinion of Freemasons, and I think that this was the main reason why I eventually expressed an interest in becoming one.

A pamphlet published by Grand Lodge in 1984 defined Freemasonry as:

"one of the world’s oldest secular fraternal societies … a society of men concerned with spiritual values. Its members are taught its precepts by a series of ritual dramas, which follow ancient forms and use stonemason’s customs and tools as allegorical guides. The essential qualification for admission and continuing membership is a belief in a Supreme Being. Membership is open to men of any race or religion who can fulfil this essential qualification and are of good repute …"

 

"The basic principles of Freemasonry are Brotherly Love, Relief, and Truth. Brotherly Love in its sense of the promotion of tolerance and respect for the beliefs and ideals of others, and the building of a world in which that tolerance and respect, together with kindness and understanding, can flourish. Relief not in the limited sense of monetary giving but in the widest sense of charitable giving of money, time, and effort to assist the community as a whole. Truth in the sense of striving for high moral standards and in the conduction of one’s life – in all its aspects – in as honest a manner as possible. In simple terms, a Freemason is taught his duties to his God, his fellow man, and the laws of his country."

The usual form in which a Freemason practices his craft, within my limited experience, is as follows: A meeting is convened, behind closed doors, at which one of the series of ‘ritual dramas’ is carried out. This might be, for example, the initiation of a candidate. A set form of words is used, not unlike, say, those used at a church baptism, or in a theatrical play, with various actors playing particular roles within a hierarchy, all under the direction of the Worshipful Master of the lodge. Certain information is presented and explained to the candidate. After the meeting ends there is usually a meal, or other refreshments, at which there may be speeches and toasts. This is called the ‘social board’ and is considered an essential part of the proceedings. Humour and instruction may be included in the speeches, and there may be musical entertainment, such as singing or instrumental performances. Freemasonry has been accused of being a secret society; Leslie rebutted this, saying instead that it was a society with secrets, and indeed there is nothing so stop a Freemason from identifying himself publicly as such.

Progress through the ranks
Leslie possibly became aware of Freemasonry about the time that his father joined Ben Brierley Lodge, number 3317, in 1920 when he was a thirteen years old Boy Scout. In later life he was very much of the view that just as there was ‘Scouting For Boys’ so there was ‘Masonry for Men’, and as time went by and his father gradually progressed through the various offices at ‘Ben Brierley’ he may have anticipated that he too, one day, would become a Freemason.

By the time that his father became Worshipful Master (WM) of Ben Brierley Lodge in 1935 Leslie was about ready, and it was anticipated that Billy would initiate his son into the lodge during his year in office. Such a happy occasion, however, was not to be, for Billy died the following April and I remember Leslie telling me that he withdrew temporarily to consider his course of action. By the following year however he had resolved to go ahead and he was proposed for membership by his old friend Sam Cronshaw, and seconded by John Taylor.

It may be recalled that Sam had been Superintendent of St. John’s Sunday school from 1906 to 1932 and he was Head Master of the Day School from 1924. He was also the Honourable Secretary of St. John’s Parochial Church Council and a member of Ben Brierley Lodge and Ben Brierley Chapter. At the time he was 61 years old. Sam would have known Leslie at Sunday school from a very young age and, through the lodge, he would of course have known Billy. John Taylor was probably the ‘Jack’ Taylor that Leslie had known at Froggatts in 1931 and who was to become his employer in 1939. Jack had been WM of Ben Brierley in 1933/34. When Leslie was Initiated into Ben Brierley on 8th March 1937 he would have felt that he was moving among friends, for everyone would have known his father and been keenly aware of the frustrated intention for Leslie to join during Billy’s year of office.

Leslie was Passed on April 12th 1937 and Raised the following September 13th. Thus began a lifelong commitment, for Leslie had found something that would continue to fascinate, satisfy and challenge him until the day he died. Within a year or two, as his Masonic knowledge developed, he began to put behind him the things that had previously occupied his free time. Rugby, Scouting and activities such as Sunday School teaching all ended as Freemasonry took over; it was also in 1938 that Leslie began courting Irene – another lifelong love. As mentioned previously, these years were truly the great watershed of his life.

There were a lot of brethren in the lodge ahead of Leslie and he was not immediately able to begin progression towards the position of Worshipful Master. However he made himself useful in other ways. In 1943-46 he was Assistant Secretary, but by the Masonic year 1947-48 he had become Senior Deacon and so progressed normally to become Worshipful Master in 1950-51 (see figure).

Not satisfied with the standard fare of Craft masonry, Leslie very soon decided to follow his father’s steps into Royal Arch Freemasonry by becoming a member of the Ben Brierley Chapter. This probably took place in 1938 or 1939 for Leslie was Exalted on 16th September 1940. He progressed through the various ranks, as Scribe Ezra in 1946 to 1948, the Prophet Haggai in 1956 (when Alfred Robinson, a man hugely respected by Leslie, was Z.) and then achieved the highest office, First Principal, Zerubbabel, in 1957.

During the years of the Second World War W. Poyser Bullock, rector of St. Chad’s church in New Moston, a stone’s throw from Leslie’s new home at Circular Road, began chairing informal meetings of Masons in order to keep alive Masonic activity at this difficult time. After the war ended the members of this group wanted to continue their fellowship but realized that they would now need to regularise their meetings. A decision was taken to found a practice lodge, as permitted under Masonic regulations, for which purpose they requested and obtained the sponsorship of the Ben Brierley Lodge. Accordingly the Ben Brierley Lodge of Instruction was founded on 12th October 1946 with Leslie Dunkerley a member of its General Purposes Committee. Meetings were held on Monday evenings at 8.00 p.m. and from this the lodge took its popular name ‘Monday Night At Eight’ – the name of a favourite wartime comedy radio programme.

The idea of ‘Monday Night At Eight’ was that members would be drawn from many lodges based in the area and would have the opportunity to practice, in a ‘safe’ environment, the various ceremonial rituals that would later be worked in their own lodges. ‘Monday Night at Eight’ also gave the brethren the opportunity to discuss the meaning of all the Masonic signs, symbols and rituals and for the less experienced members to receive the benefit of instruction from the more experienced, and to make friends outside of their own lodges. The founders were determined to help raise standards and knowledge of Freemasonry and soon discovered that their venture filled an important need; the lodge prospered. A co-founder was Herbert (‘Bert’) Henderson, a real gentleman and friend whom Leslie always held in the highest regard.

In 1955 Poyser Bullock, who was Preceptor ('instructor') of ‘Monday Night at Eight’ unexpectedly died and it appears that J. Sweeney, the Deputy Preceptor, became Preceptor in his place. Leslie seems then to have moved up to the role of Deputy Preceptor but unfortunately J. Sweeney also died and in 1956 Leslie found himself appointed Preceptor. It was a happy choice for he retained the post for 31 years until 1987 and oversaw growth to over one hundred members. Such was the value of the lodge that in 1978 no less than 16 members were installed as WMs of their respective lodges.

When Leslie retired as Preceptor of ‘Monday Night at Eight’ on 8th June 1987 the members presented him with an illuminated address inscribed as shown in the picture.

On the occasion of the Golden Jubilee of ‘Monday Night at Eight’ W. Bro. Graham Homes wrote:

"For most of its history James Lesley (sic) Dunkerley WAS the Lodge of Instruction; a founder continuously in office for 41 years … Leslie probably holds something of a record for the number of candidates he introduced into the Craft during his lifetime but he would always say that he was more interested in getting masonry into men than men into masonry and this he did in no small measure through the Lodge of Instruction."

The next step in Leslie’s Masonic development came on 20th February 1956 when he joined the Salford Rose Croix Chapter of which one of the founders had been Bert Henderson. It is not difficult, therefore, to imagine how Leslie’s introduction came about. Rose Croix teaches that salvation is only possible by following the principles of the Christian faith and it is therefore hardly surprising that Leslie was attracted to it. Over the following years he worked his way through the various ranks of the Rose Croix and became master – a rank known as Most Worshipful Sovereign – on 17th October 1966.

There is a system of Freemasonry called the Ancient and Accepted Rite, consisting of 33 degrees. Notionally the Craft represents the first three degrees and the Chapter the fourth. Thereafter, in England, the next worked degree is that of the Rose Croix, designated the eighteenth. Again in England, the next degree is the 30th, conferred only on those who have been Sovereign of their Rose Croix Chapter. Leslie achieved this on 19th March 1968. He subsequently went on to serve Salford Rose Croix as DC for eleven years from 1971 to 1982.

Leslie’s interest in the Ben Brierley Lodge of Instruction, the Chapter and the Rose Croix did not mean that he lost interest in the Craft. On the contrary, as a Past Master he served as Director of Ceremonies of the Ben Brierley lodge from 1953 to 1964, helping to ensure that high standards were maintained in the meetings. Such hard work brought its rewards for he was honoured with Provincial rank, being appointed PPJGW in the Craft on 26th May 1964 and PPAG Soj in the Chapter on 10th April of the same year; the Chapter promoted him to PPGSN on 18th April five years later.

The Provincial Ranks were no mere sinecures for he was now expected to visit other lodges and chapters as a guest and to make reports on their activities. To Leslie this must have been a pleasure because he already had many friends in lodges in the area as a result of making and receiving visits, and through Monday Night at Eight. Just how all this activity was encompassed is remarkable, and even if it did make of Irene a ‘Masonic widow’ it gave him great pleasure.

Irene, of course, was not the only one in such a situation and indeed many Freemasons’ wives became very good friends and sometimes met in the evenings when the men folk were off about their duties. Thus Irene was pals with Amy Allen, Ida Henderson, Dorothy Crossley, Cis Baines and others. The girls, too, were catered for at Masonic Ladies Evenings, really quite lavish gala events with whist drives, a formal meal and dancing. Out would come the ball gowns and sparkly jewellery, and the ladies hair dressing salons did good trade. Each year there were two Ladies Evenings for the lodge, and two for the Chapter, plus invitations by other lodges or chapters, so plenty of good fun in fine company was had by all.

Leslie’s continuing dedication to Freemasonry eventually earned him several important honours. On 16th April 1972 The Duke of Kent made him an officer of Grand Lodge with the rank of PAGDC. On 27th April 1978 The Earl of Cadogan welcomed him into the Supreme Grand Chapter with the rank of PG Std Br. The Craft further promoted him to PJGD on 28th April 1982. On 21st February 1985 he reached the milestone of his 100th act of representation at Cornucopia Royal Arch Chapter.

Improbable as it might seem, Leslie found time for many other acts of Masonic service. In 1972 he became a founder member of a new Royal Arch Chapter at Integrity Lodge, number 163, and helped nurture its early development by undertaking the role of DC for nine years until 1980. He also became a joining member of his brother in law Arthur Jones’ lodge at Chatburn, Clitheroe, number 401, always spoken ‘four-nowt-one’. He was also involved with a research lodge, the Lodge of Living Stones, which met in Manchester.

Time marched on and in 1987 Leslie was honoured on the occasion of the completion of 50 years as a member of Ben Brierley lodge. The following year saw his contribution to Integrity Chapter acknowledged when he was made an honorary member. In 1990 there were further honours on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of his exaltation in Ben Brierley Chapter, of which he was made an honorary member, and in addition the Supreme Council of the Ancient and Accepted Rite elected him to the 31st Degree. This promotion, in England, is considered a great honour and is only conferred on a strictly limited number of members.

On his move to Bourne in 1991 Leslie was finally compelled, at the age of 84, to detach himself from active Freemasonry. He resigned from Salford Rose Croix, but the brethren would not have it and promptly elected him an honorary member. Similar treatment followed from the Ben Brierley Lodge of Instruction in 1992. Leslie continued in contact with many of his Masonic friends until called away to serve the Grand Architect of the Universe.

Brother Clare’s Progress and Companionship
Leslie was tragically deprived of the experience of sharing his Freemasonry with his father, or indeed with his dearly-loved brother Lewis, who died before he could become a Freemason. Brother Clare was six years Leslie’s junior, but a strong family bond developed between them and in 1942 Leslie had the great pleasure of proposing Clare for membership of Ben Brierley Lodge. Clare’s Initiation, Passing and Raising all took place during that year and he went on to become Worshipful Master of the lodge in 1958.

By 1946 Clare followed Leslie into the Ben Brierley Chapter and became its First Principal in 1961. He also followed his older brother into the Ben Brierley Lodge of Instruction and the Salford Rose Croix, of which he became Sovereign in 1975. However Clare did not simply follow brother Leslie through Freemasonry, but carved out his own path. He became passionately interested in the origins of Freemasonry and its symbols and in this context joined the Manchester Lodge for Masonic Research, no. 5502. He served for many years in various roles, including as editor, and contributed papers to its published Transactions. In his later years he travelled extensively, giving talks in other lodges about his many Masonic interests.

Like Leslie, Clare also became a Provincial Lodge Officer and ultimately a Grand Lodge Officer, finally attaining the Thirty Second Degree, thus surpassing his older brother.

It is impossible to overstate the high regard and ‘brotherly love’ that Leslie felt for Clare, and the happiness, therefore, that he enjoyed with him. In notes prepared for the occasion of Clare’s 50th anniversary as a member of Ben Brierley Lodge Leslie wrote:

"I have never known anyone so talented and versatile as Clare. … His outstanding interest in Masonry is well-known. … To quote the great Mr. Shakespeare - "One man in his time plays many parts" - and may I add - all to such perfection. My personal 'hunch' is that the Royal Arch must be his 'first love' where he has served not only the progressive Offices, but also gone the extra mile as a Past Z through his outstanding service as Scribe E of the BBC [Ben Brierley Chapter]".

 

The Preferment Issue
In 1959 something that strikes me as absolutely extraordinary happened. It was to be the 50th Anniversary of Ben Brierley Lodge, and by happy chance Clare was Worshipful Master. It was to be a grand occasion. From Leslie’s point of view there was the prospect of some extra icing on the cake, for the Provincial Grand Secretary of East Lancashire wrote to inform him that the Provincial Grand Master wished to take the opportunity to promote him to Provincial honours by conferring upon him the rank of Past Provincial Assistant Grand Director of Ceremonies, and would Leslie be good enough to ‘let me have a note of acceptance’. Somewhat surprisingly under the circumstance it took Leslie a month to respond, and astonishingly he turned the offer down. He wrote:

"The proposal has had long and more than earnest consideration and whilst I am mindful of the compliment being paid to me, I find it impossible to accept the honour. This is because I feel it is one being conferred upon the Lodge arising essentially out of the Jubilee Celebrations, and that being the case, I cannot allow myself to take precedence over those of my brethren who have seniority as Past Masters over me, in our Lodge. If I permitted myself to accept, I know I should always have it on my conscience that I had allowed personal desire to outrun what was right.

There are three senior Past Masters to me in our Lodge and for each, in differing ways and for various reasons, I have the highest possible regard and affection. In view of the valued friendships which subsist between us, I am convinced it would be wrong of me to do anything which might mar the happiness of our personal relationships.

If I were persuaded to accept the very kind offer made, I know I should feel uncomfortable concerning those Brethren each time I put on the clothing of a Provincial Officer if they were not likewise (in the fullness of time, one hopes) similarly clothed. Obviously therefore, anything which would leave me with a troubled mind is wrong and I do regret having to decline the Office offered me".

This letter provoked an immediate response, in fact the very next day:

"I understand your scruples but I am afraid your action is not very well advised; when the Lodge is specially honoured in connection with the Jubilee Celebration seniority in the Lodge is not the only factor.

The Right Worshipful Provincial Grand Master makes his personal selection and the honour is personal to the individual. I do not think you will find the slightest jealousy among the other Past Masters and as you know, as time goes on let us hope they will all join you in the ranks of the Provincial Officers.

I hope you now feel in a position to accept the honour offered to you".

Leslie didn’t! His reply was:

"Thank you … for your kindness in endeavouring to advise in what I find to be a most perplexing difficulty. I appreciate what you write about the personal nature of such appointments but since seniority is a factor and as the offer arises expressly out of a Lodge celebration, acknowledgement of those points only serves to indicate that my first decision was correct.

I am most anxious that my inability to accept the offer should not be wrongly interpreted as I am deeply conscious of the honour the offer itself accords me personally. One has the highest possible regard for our R. W. Provincial Grand Master and would not wittingly displease him. Even so, I feel he would understand that I cannot be expected to act against the dictates of conscience.

There is not likely to be the slightest question of jealously on the part of other Past Masters in the Lodge as conditions of perfect amity exist between us. On the contrary I feel they are so generously disposed towards myself that if they knew of this offer they would put pressure upon me to accept it. They would adopt, I feel, the same approach that you have made, namely, to ‘understand my scruples’ and yet ask me to ignore them.

I feel miserable about the whole business but as the entitlement to preferment is others’ before mine, I must ask you to please understand my perplexity and unwillingness to ‘jump the queue’.

I do therefore sincerely regret my inability to accept the honour you have again asked me to accept".

And there matters rested. One cannot help feeling that this was a problem not often faced by Provincial Lodge! What does it tell us about Leslie? One could take the view that the Provincial officers might have been tempted to take, that Leslie Dunkerley was being unnecessarily difficult and questioning their authority.

Alternatively one can take Leslie’s own explanation of his situation at face value, i.e. that he placed a greater importance on doing what he considered to be right with regard to his friends than he did on personal advancement. Yet at that time advancement to Provincial rank must have been one of his greatest ambitions in Freemasonry.

To my mind, the latter is much the better explanation, for, as Leslie said, a situation that should have produced great happiness for him instead made him feel ‘miserable’. After initially rejecting the honour he was given plenty of opportunity to change his mind and, as the Provincial Secretary said, had he told his fellow lodge members it is likely they too would have pressured him to accept. But there is no evidence that Leslie discussed the situation with anybody (I am aware of it only because I have discovered the correspondence). In any event Leslie had to wait for five more years before he was once again offered Provincial honours, and this time he accepted! For the record, the three senior Past Masters were each, in time, honoured with Provincial rank.

What was Freemasonry for Leslie?
This is a question to which it is very difficult to provide a satisfactory answer; I feel tempted to say ‘it was everything’. Certainly Freemasonry answered deep needs in Leslie in a way that nothing else he found ever did. And, I believe, it satisfied those needs. Perhaps those needs were for structure, for fellowship and for purpose.

Leslie grew up in a structured society and felt comfortable within those structures. For example, in Sunday School he progressed from scholar to teacher; in Scouts he progressed from Cub to Scout then to Rover and so on to Scout Master; in rugby he played as a member of the team and eventually became captain of the Rovers team; at work he always expected loyalty from those under him but in turn was always respectful of his superiors. Masonry fitted in perfectly in the sense of structure, which was absolute within the lodge. You started at the bottom and by hard work progressed. Respect was accorded to those of higher rank and given from below. Interestingly too, in English Freemasonry Princes of the Royal blood have been very closely associated with the organization, normally occupying, by invitation, positions at its very head. For example, in 1874 Prince Albert Edward, Price of Wales, later King Edward VII, became Grand Master, and in 1986 the Grand Master was HRH the Duke of Kent. In a sense, then, the deference shown within the structure of English Freemasonry is closely tied up with loyalty to one’s country and to conformity with the ancient structure of class and position within English society. I don’t think this was an attraction of Freemasonry to Leslie, but it is something within which I believe he felt comfortable. It seemed ‘right’.

Leslie had experienced fellowship in Scouting, whose Law describes the organization as a brotherhood (‘A Scout is a friend to all and a brother to every other Scout …’). He had a genuine belief in the value of benign brotherhood, as found in Scouts, and a keen sense of service to others as part of that brotherhood. No doubt this sense of service led to him becoming a Sunday School Teacher and a Scout Master so that he could ‘put something back’. The idea and value of teamwork, another attribute of brotherhood, was also enshrined for Leslie in his rugby playing.

In Freemasonry, after the ritual, interaction continued around ‘the social board’ where there was warm and genuine fellowship. There were, and no doubt there still are, those who saw in Freemasonry only an opportunity to insert themselves into a society of the comfortably off, where by dint of favour and preferential treatment they could obtain business favours and, if they fell on hard times, obtain some financial help. The charitable aspects of Freemasonry are undeniable, as is the self-sufficiency of the brethren. But they are rather a consequence of the calibre and values of the members than the result of privileges asked or granted. It was this calibre that I sensed among Leslie’s Freemason friends as a boy, and I am confident that I was not mistaken. Men who made good Masons also made good friends, because they could be relied upon to fulfil their obligations and not to be underhand. A sense of this came through in letters written by Leslie to Irene in 1943, six years after he had become a Mason. Of his work colleague Edmund Ashworth Leslie wrote he "is a grand fellow despite the fact he is not a Free Mason", and of his friend Alf Dakeyne "He’s a great fellow is Alf, but there when you consider he’s a Free Mason you don’t wonder why do you?"

Whatever satisfaction Leslie drew from Freemasonry in the sense of order or friendship, however, it was less than he gained from the speculative side - a sense of purpose.

As discussed in a consideration of his Christian values, at some time in his youth Leslie developed a keen spiritual sense, a need to find purpose in life, a quest for the Truth. At first his involvement at church and Sunday school satisfied this need, and he obviously made an immensely positive impression, as shown by the remarkable personal reference given to him in 1935 by the Rev. W. A. Edge, quoted earlier.

Leslie’s interest in religion has already been discussed, but here we might just recall that during the 1930’s he acquired a bookshelf of religious works, including several about St. Paul, whose quite mystical and often abstruse writings appealed to him. As the years went by and Leslie became a respected Freemason so his contributions at the social board, and doubtless in the lodge too, when appropriate, addressed the issues of the Good Life, including moral and spiritual values. Indeed his willingness to talk at length became something he was gently ribbed about – in 1975 his great friend Harold Matthew, a most gifted raconteur, quipped during a talk about the writer Ben Brierley, whose name the lodge had adopted, "what my talk may lack in depth I am going to make up in length – sorry the other way about – Leslie is going to make up in length." The truth is that Leslie was happy to go both long and deep, and among the listeners there were many who took away from the meetings something they were unaccustomed to receive – food for thought.

Between 1978 and 1983 Leslie prepared and gave a number of talks at different Masonic meetings in which he sought to present some of the beliefs and understandings he had arrived at as a result of his Masonic studies and experiences. Although Freemasonry requires of its members a belief in God, it in no way tries to dictate the nature of that belief. So the God of the Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus or any other, is equally valid. Nevertheless, Leslie was keenly aware that as Freemasonry arose out of the building of the great English gothic cathedrals it had roots in Christianity, and indeed until 1723 Masonic manuscripts actually contained specific Christian references. At that time, so as to make Freemasonry universal in its appeal, such references were removed and thus Freemasonry, as later Scouting, became non-sectarian and could unite, as brothers, men of all creeds.

A unifying theme of the talks given by Leslie is the connection between the symbolism of Freemasonry and the Judeo/Christian, and particularly the Christian, traditions that were so important to him. In one of these talks, given at the level of the Craft, he developed a number of themes that drew on both Masonic and religious (Old and New Testament) ideas, but perhaps the most important to him, and the one with which he ended his talk, related to the difference between outward and inward things. He referred to Jesus’ revelation to the disciples:

"The Kingdom of God is within you ... This is the deep significance of the symbol – ‘A point within a circle’. Representing God at the heart of man. God at the centre of the universe. The point also may be taken as a symbol of God and the circumscribing circle representing all creatures equally near or equally distant from God’s love. The circle itself is also a symbol of God – The Being having neither beginning of days or ending of years. The unbroken line of the circle also invokes a much favoured Masonic title of the Deity ‘The Eternal’".

He continues:

"In his Essay on Man, Alexander Pope wrote: "Know then thyself, presume not God to scan – The proper study of mankind is man". St. Paul, addressing himself to the same subject gave the clearest possible answer when he wrote (1. Cor. 3:16) "Know ye not, that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" Further, "This again stresses the great truth ‘the Kingdom of God is within’, and it is because we hunger to learn the truth relating to our own being, that we … hammer on the door … in order to gain access to our inmost selves – the secret repository of our hearts".

In a second talk, given at the level of the Chapter, he develops his theme of a continuing quest for the truth by focusing on a search for true spiritual light. The most powerful story he uses to illustrate this again relates to St. Paul, this time when he was still known as Saul of Tarsus, who initially set out full of bigotry to persecute the nascent Christian community.

"However, on the road to Damascus, God caused the incandescent brilliance of the True Light to burst into his soul which had been so blinded with prejudice – that he was then, for a while, deprived of his actual physical sight. The tremendous impact of this transforming experience was such, that instead of being a persecutor of the hated Christians, his immediate question was – "Lord what wilt Thou have me to do?" and he became the greatest advocate of the new faith. Thereafter, by virtue of his great missionary zeal, Christianity spread throughout the whole of Western Europe, eventually reaching Britain and so enabling the natives of this land to emerge from pagan darkness".

After developing the ideas of ‘seeing the light’ Leslie continues:

"This inner spiritual illumination with which both Craft and Royal Arch Masonry suggest we should identify ourselves, is wonderfully expressed by Robert Browning:

‘Truth is within ourselves; it takes no rise from outward things. In whatsoever you may believe, there is an inmost centre within ourselves, where Truth abides in fullness, and where to know, rather consists in opening out a way whence the imprisoned splendour may escape, than effecting entrance for a Light, supposed to be without’."

[In passing it may be noted that this is not an accurate statement of the quotation, which is from 'Paracelsus' and can be found in its correct form by clicking here].

 

Possibly the sentiments expressed in these talks provide us with the best understanding of why Freemasonry was of fundamental importance to Leslie. He had probably always sought a Purpose in his life, initially achieved through Scouting and church; the reference from the Rev. W. A. Edge of 1935 tells us how far he had progressed in his quest by then. At that point in his life he was already deciding to enter Freemasonry and would have done so in 1936 had it not been for the untimely death of his father. However once he did become a Freemason in 1937 his quest for Purpose and Meaning, and for Light, continued for 53 years, culminating in him attaining the 31st degree in 1990. This honour was, by special license, bestowed on him at home because of his failing health. Thereafter his quest for true enlightenment continued through active study of his collection of books and through telephone conversations and correspondence with his many friends, perhaps especially his brother Clare.

Among Leslie’s papers I found several separated copies of an ‘Address to the Brethren’, in somewhat archaic language and of unknown origin. The penultimate paragraph of this document, quoted below, summarises the wherefore and the why of Leslie’s personal quest within Freemasonry:

‘The Brother who has thus far discharged his duties as a Freemason may patiently await the arrival of his dying throb, and as we severally experience that awful moment when the soul shall take wing to that boundless and unexplored expanse above, may we all be able to say "It is well finished, admit us to the Grand Lodge Above", where the divisions of time shall cease and the glories of an endless eternity burst upon our view.’


Taking Stock 
 

The twentieth century, in which Leslie lived his life, was born out of industrialisation and European Imperialism and was marked by the First and the Second World Wars. The former came from the clash of the ‘Great Powers’ that had competed for resources and markets during the nineteenth century, the latter arose from the great ideological struggle between democracy, characterized by freedom and liberalism, and totalitarianism in its different guises of communism and fascism. These wars resulted in the deaths of millions of people and the destruction of incalculable amounts of property. They were mostly played out in Europe; America stood largely on the sidelines, taking part only after being dragged in by the desperate plight of Britain in the First World War and by Japanese madness in the Second. Today most young people would not even understand the issues. Such is history.

The twentieth century was also marked by a series of technological revolutions. As the century dawned motor vehicles were making their appearance and electricity was beginning to demonstrate its usefulness. During the century the car and lorry carried all before them, cheap flights put international travel within reach of ordinary folk, man went into space and even landed on the moon, and computers began to appear in many private homes. Leslie eventually came to terms with the car and profited a little from the aeroplane, but he never used a computer; I don’t think he ever used even an adding machine or calculator! Technology was not one of his long suits.

Britain in the twentieth century developed into a post-industrial society in which service industries grew, punctuated by the two great wars, while the traditional manufacturing industries, notably cotton, entered into near-terminal decline. The white-collar, middle-class worker – and that is what Leslie was – came into his own. The twentieth century saw the development of greater understanding of national economies and macro-economic management, but it was still a wild ride. There was the crash of the 1920s, the slump of the 1930s, stability in the 1950s, growth in the 1960s, galloping inflation in the 1970s and recovery and expansion in the 1980s and especially the 1990s.

Although Leslie’s eighty-nine years of life, from 1907 to 1996, made him very much a man of the twentieth century he never seemed too concerned by the macro-events that were the backdrop to his life and rarely stopped to discuss them. His way was to adapt to circumstances while pursuing his own values. However, the roots of Leslie's values were buried deep.

To start with the obvious, the Lancashire dialect that Leslie Dunkerley loved belonged essentially to the eighteenth and nineteenth century cotton industry of east Lancashire. Scouting, too, was a product of earlier times, owing much to the needs of empire and the class system. Arguably, British democratic liberal tradition, based on fair play and respect for all members of society, grew out of the enlightened Christian church, and Freemasonry out of both, preserving something of their class structure and hierarchy. Rugby too owed a debt to the class system of the public schools but it could not have become popular had it not been for the increase in leisure time decreed by the social legislation that characterized Britain towards the end of the nineteenth century.

Leslie and his family were remarkably unscathed by the two World Wars. His father was forty years old when the First World War broke out and was not called up. His eldest brother, Albert, was eleven. During the Second World War Leslie worked in a reserved occupation and stayed in England doing duty as a Special Constable. No members of the immediate family were lost or injured.

Economic events made a greater impact. The decline of the cotton industry effectively derailed Leslie’s parents’ lives but Leslie developed skills in accounting and administration, important service industries that were able to provide a competent practitioner with stable earnings.

In many ways, then, Leslie was lucky, for the worst of the twentieth century passed him by. What is also undeniable is that he made the most of his good luck by developing a sense of personal responsibility, having values to which he stuck doggedly, and living very busily. When he worked, he worked hard. When he Scouted, he Scouted hard. When he played rugby, he did it to the best of his considerable abilities. When he dedicated himself to Freemasonry, he did it in a way that helped others understand the meaning of the word ‘dedication’. When he committed to marriage and family, he stuck to it. Leslie seemed to have the knack of finding pleasure and satisfaction in everything he did.

He was confident, yet not cocky. He worked hard for financial independence, but did not commit himself to making money. He did what he could to develop his mind, yet always said that if he could change one thing in his life it would be to have the chance to go to university. He had a great sense of self-reliance, yet was a team player through and through, and he got more pleasure out of serving his fellows than he did out of personal achievement. He had an abiding, and clean-cut, sense of humour of the trivial, yet backed by a deeper satisfaction at stories that taught a lesson or held a moral; he could entice you with the one and feed you on the other. He was there when you needed him most, and in difficult circumstances was completely dependable.

His imperfections were many! He couldn’t cook, had no idea about do-it-yourself or anything mechanical (like cars!). He was a technophobe who struggled with the TV remote control and couldn’t have been bribed to tackle a video-recorder. In many things he was authoritarian, brooking little discussion, and yet he was quick to defer when he recognized greater expertise or experience than his own. He was not keen either to discuss an uncertain future - 'We'll cross that bridge when we come to it'  - or review the past - 'It's water under the bridge' - which could be frustrating for those close to him. He could also be unforgiving when he felt that a point of honour was at stake, and it could be uncomfortable to be on the wrong end of a misunderstanding with him.

Nevertheless, the abiding characteristics of the man were immensly positive: sincerity, committed self-sufficiency, a love of knowledge, a sense of fellowship, a love of family, a generosity of spirit and a mind that never ceased in the quest for a higher purpose and a greater good. He was, inevitably, a man of his time and he made the best of the considerable time that was his.

He undoubtedly found his greatest fulfilment in Freemasonry and it seems appropriate to end this short account of his origins and his life with one of the quotations that he himself highlighted in his readings. I could have chosen from dozens, and perhaps this one is chosen badly as it makes no mention of the Christian Faith – the bedrock that underlay his life. Nonetheless the following strikes me as catching the essence of how James Leslie Dunkerley – as I knew him – lived in this world. It comes from a small and apparently insignificant volume:

"Goethe, a great Mason, said that talent may develop in solitude, but character is made in society. It is the fruit of fellowship. Genius may shine aloof and alone like a star, but goodness is social, and it takes two men and God to make a brother. In the Holy Book which lies open on our altar we read: ‘No man liveth unto himself; no man dieth unto himself.’ We are tied together, seeking that truth which none may learn for another, and none may learn alone. If evil men can drag us down, good men can lift us up. No one of us is strong enough not to need the companionship of good men and the consecration of great ideals. Here lies, perhaps, the deepest meaning and value of Masonry; it is a fellowship of men seeking goodness, and to yield ourselves to its influence, to be drawn into its spirit and quest, is to be made better than ourselves."

Leslie Dunkerley died in Bourne Hospital on July 23rd 1996, a man of conviction who could look back on a long and fulfilling life and say:

 

 

"I have gone home!"


Notes and References

 

[1]. Although much of the section on 'Scouting' comes from personal experience, I have also drawn on the perceptive account of scouting in 'The Character Factory: Baden-Powell and the Origins of the Boy Scout Movement (ISBN: 0394511697)' by Michael Rosenthal.

 

[2]. See http://www.iwm.org.uk/server/show/ConWebDoc.2790

 

[3]. For a background to Freemasonry I have used John Hamill's work 'The Craft – a History of English Freemasonry’, published in 1986 by Crucible, ISBN 0-85030-460-1.


This page was last modified on 15 October 2009