an’ various dukes ruled t’land
a King were proposed to rule o’er ‘em
an’to keep all o’ t’Saxons in ‘and.
Th’igh lords o’ Britons decided
to look for t’right knight to be king
as he’d ‘ave to be good wi’ sword an’ wi’ lance
a tournament seemed t’bi thing.
Well not many people will know this
but t’tourneys decided locale
were a flat bit o’ pasture near ‘oghton*
by Leeds - Liver-poo’ canal.
Word were sent out across t’country
o’ t’tourney, in order to bring
brave knights to do battle in t’contest,
t’winner o’ which would be t’king.
Knights turned up from all over
Northumbria, Mercia, Kent
Wessex, East Anglia, Essex
Caledonia, Lanky an’ Brent.
On arrival at t’field o’ t’joustin
All t’knights were required to report
to th’umpire in charge, one Richard de Byrd
a tyke, but not that bad a sort.
T’list o’ t’knight-errants were extraordinaire
Th’Who’s who, o’ t’chivalric code
Sirs Bedevere, Lancelot, Tristan an’ Kay,
up to t’gig on their warhorses rode.
Sir Gawain an’ Owain an’ Girflet turned up
Sir Perceval, Balan an’ Bors
Sir Geraint an’ Dinadan made it a dozen
Four more an’ they’d ‘ave t’first round draw
T’list were made up wi’ some locals
Lancashire lads through to t’bone
Sir Loin who’s dad ‘ad a boozer down t’road
Sir Clip, an ironmonger fray Colne.
T’vicious Sir Cull on ‘is night black steed,
a Wigan lad known to be brutal.
Were followed by t’final contender…
T’suspicious Sir Comestance from Bootle.
T’draw were set for t’followin’ day
In t’tent o’ Sir Dickie de Byrd.
t’Famous Sir Lancelot down as t’first seed
Kay t’second an’ Galahad t’third.
Th’odds, they were posted by Frederick Done
A maker of books from Knott Mill.
big money were goin’ on t’favourites
an’ side bets on “Lances” first kill.
T’First round were goin’ as expected
Wi’ Kay knockin’ Clip off ‘is ‘orse
Sir Comestance unseated wi’ Tristan
wi’ ‘is ‘elmet knocked off due to t’force.
Lancelot sin off Sir Bors in fine style
Splittin’ ‘is gorget in t’tussle
Geraint an’ Owain put on a good show
‘til Owain just edged it wi’ t’muscle.
Gawain beat Girflet as th’evenin’ came in
an’ doubts were expressed about t’light
Balan were routed wi’ Sir Galahad
an’ booed for not much of a fight.
Bedevere met Wigan’s finest, Sir Cull
as fav’rite to go in t’next round.
T’tiltin’ were even ‘til Cull split ‘is lance
an’ Bedevere dumped ‘im on t’ground.
Last bout were causin’ excitement
As local lad Loin took th’arena
‘is opponent sir Dinadan son o’ Sir Brunor
sat laughin’ like tickled hyena.
Sir Loin looked a bit of a tuttle
‘is greaves an’ ‘is ‘auberk were rusty
‘is shield were made up from ‘is fathers pub sign
but ‘is mace an’ ‘is lance looked quite trusty.
He matched Dinadan twice at t’tiltin’
an’ when both were unseated at once,
took t’fight to th’opponent in th’and to ‘and combat
an’ cracked ‘im wi’ t’mace on ‘is bonce
Sir Dinadan’s squire were t’drunken Sir Rhosis,
Who stood next to t’pitch shoutin’ “foul”
But after ‘is master ‘ad took some more thwacks
He give up, an’ chucked in ‘is towel.
T’locals were goin’ quite mental,
that Loin ‘ad disposed of ‘is foe
half were on t’pitch clappin’ t’lad on ‘is back
t’other ‘alf, off to Dones for their dough.
Early next mornin’ in t’tent o’ de Byrd
draw ‘ad bin med in advance
Loin were rewarded for t’giantkillin’ act
wi’ an’ ‘ome draw ‘gainst favourite “Lance”.
All t’clientele from ‘is dad’s boozer
Were there to cheer t’lad on
but this time th’outsider were bested
an’ chances o’ Lancashire gone.
Sir Kay toppled Owain in no time
Bedevere doin’ same to Gawain
Wi’ Galahad puttin’ Sir Tristan to t’sword
Top seeds were in t’semi’s again.
Rest o’ day, were took up wi’ a side show
of ‘orseridin’ tricks by Sir Cuss.
A naxe jugglin’ act by th’electric Sir Kitt
an’ a used armour sale by Sir Pluss.
Wi’ th‘and to ‘and combat an’ tiltin’
Semis were more bold an’ darin’
but at th’end o’ t’day Lancelot stood
wi’ Sir Kay as t’final day pairin’.
Wi’ a day off before t'grand finale
Contestants took time an’ made most
Sir Kay ‘ad a picnic an’ fished on t’canal
Lancelot ‘ad a ride out to t’coast.
After rechargin’ their batt’ries
T’contenders were back in th‘arena
Kay were refreshed an’ feelin’ quite sharp
Lancelot couldn’t be keener.
It were time to gird up for t’final
an’ squires were polishin’ th’armour
Sir Lancelot’s armiger, Sir Comm sighs
“be strong an’ you’ll batter that farmer!”
Sir Kay ‘ad young Arthur Pendragon
‘is adopted brother as squire.
He were glad to be able t’accomodate t’lad
matter o’fact he were cheaper to ’ire.
He told young Arthur again an’ again
When I’m king, I’ll make you my stew-ard
“You’ve made such a grand job o’ cleanin’ my kit
So come on, where’ve thee put my sew-ord?”
Lad said to Kay “I’ll just get it,
I’ve put it somewhere in t’pavilion”
he searched but he couldn’t locate it
an’ ‘is face turned a shade o’ vermillion.
“I can’t take to t’field wi’out it!”
said Sir Kay to ‘is startled young aide
“you’ll ‘ave to find out where you put it,
I ‘ve no time for t'bugger made!”
Arthur were rapt concentratin’,
T’location o’ blade to divine
Rememb’rin’ t’fishin’ trip down to t’canal
an’ cleanin’ as Kay cast ‘is line.
“I know where it is” Arthur shouted
an’ off to t’canal bank he shot
as fast as ‘is legs would propel ‘im
to ascertain Kay’s fishin’ spot.
A mist were abroad on t’water
makin’ t’sword ‘ard to discover
there were spots that looked ideal for fishin’
but he couldn’t tell one from another.
Wi’ time runnin’ short for young Arthur
he were givin’ ’is ‘unt one last shout
when he saw a great boulder in th’edgerow
wi’ a gleamin’ new sword stickin’ out.
He couldn’t believe that he’d fon it
but as nobody else were about
he strode o’er to t’sword graspin’ th’andle,
wi’ one swift tug pulled t’bugger out.
When arrivin’ at t’tent wi’ ‘is weapon
Kay’s father were there wi’ ‘is banner
t’venerable knight owd Sir Ector
who smiled an’ slipped Arthur a tanner.
Sir Kay were getting a sweat on
no sword an’ a duel to fight
“Art” give ‘im t’one that he’d pulled from yon stone
an’ Kays face lit up wi’ delight.
“’ang’st on” interjected sir Ector.
“From whence didst thou dis-cover that?”
young Arthur looked at ‘im quite puzzled
said Sir Kay “Dad, don’t talk like a prat!”
“I’m sorry but question still stands” uttered Dad
“that broadsword is o' th’ighest calibre!
It resembles th’old sword of kingship,
otherwise known as Excalibur!”
“Where did you get it please show me,
we need to be certain of this”
“It were stuck in a boulder on t’far side o’ t’cut
stammered Arthur “ I’m not takin’ p**s?”
“Come Kay, we must go to this boulder,
there’s somethin’ I need you to prove
Arthur can find t’rock an’ stick t’sword back in
which you try your best to remove”
t’lad put back t’sword where he’d got it
but Sir Kay couldn’t move it an inch
even sir Ector ‘issel’ ‘ad a tug
but none made Excalibur flinch.
Sir Kay gathered all o’ contestants
who’d fought for t’right to be t’king
each ‘ad ‘is turn to draw t’sword from t’stone
but no one could shift t’bloody thing.
Arthur stepped up, at Sir Ector’s behest
an’ drew t’blade from t’boulder wi’ ease
“all behold the true king of Britain!” said Ector
an’ everyone fell to their knees.
Sword ‘ad bin put there by magic
Held in that stone by a spell
of Merlin, t’royal enchanter
who were famous in clubland as well.
Arthur were crowned “King o’ Britons”
In an age o’ brave knights an’ o’ glory
He built a grand table for t’lads to sit round
But that friend is a nother story.
*Hoghton-betwixt Blackburn and Preston