Journey of the Whisky Spinner

Beneath the moss veiled flagstone

lies a place by strangers never seen

Copper pipes, glasses and measures

abode of illicit spinning machine

 

Howarth stoops low in the darkness

as he dons waistcoat of steel

Below his costume of toile and graft

the potent waters he does conceal

 

From the shadowy depths of obscurity

Howarth clambers to stand tall

To supplement the farm and loom

refreshment to share with all

 

As he starts out on his journey

he samples the waters of the Grane

Proud. Independent. Free

Howarth wishes to remain

 

First call is Edgar Mawdsley

the Mayor of the Grane

Discreetly he shares the waters

as it lightens each other’s pain

 

Then its onward to greet the quarry men

as they share a moment of reprieve

Bleak weather taunts them heartlessly

as it drives to force them to their knees

 

Down the incline and on to Chapel Row

Peels Boy’s of blue the waters to impart

Excise men twenty years of failure

spinners waters freely played its part  

 

Next stop is via the Turnpike road

to share at Haslingden Fair

Howarth staggers stone wall accompanied

Alice awaits him most eagerly there

 

One final quench of the potent waters

as he drains the waistcoat dry

No recompense did he strive to gather

Alice child shackled sustenance to supply

 

Howarth ashamed seeks a way of departure

to avoid the impending scene

To the Boy’s in Blue he furtively signals

They know exactly what he means

 

Peels Boys cuff and arrest him

Howarth pleads his innocence that day

Alice protests, defiant and supportive

as her poor husband is carted away