On Penhill Crags he tore his rags,
At Hunters Thorn he blew his horn,
At Capplebank Stee he brock his knee,
At Grisgill Beck he brock his neck,
At Wadham's End he couldn't fend,
at Grisgill End we'll mek his end!
- Shout lads Shout."

 

 The old tradition of Burning Bartle is an annual event in the village of West Witton in Wensleydale. The custom takes place on the Saturday nearest the 24th of August, this being Feast day of St Bartholomew, with the village church also being dedicated to this saint.

 Shortly before 9pm in the evening, the main street in West Witton was quiet, with little to indicate that a  rather unique custom was about to take place, but as the sun set and the light faded over the village, a strange figure appeared at the western end of the main street 'Owd Bartle' was making his annual appearance.

 Bartle is a life-size figure made from old clothes stuffed with straw, his face is a rather gruesome mask, with small lamps giving his eyes an eerie glow, while his beard and hair are made from a sheeps fleece. 

 On this occasion Alan and Robert Harker were carrying Bartle through the village, while John Harker was to be the 'Chanter'. A crowd soon gathered around as Bartle was carried along the main street to the first stopping place, where John Harker stepped forward and in a loud clear voice he called out  Bartle's rhyme............

 "On Penhill Crags he tore his rags,
At Hunters Thorn he blew his horn,
At Capplebank Stee he brock his knee,
At Grisgill Beck he brock his neck,
At Wadham's End he couldn't fend,
at Grisgill End we'll mek his end!
- Shout lads Shout."<O:P> </O:P>

 <O:P>The crowd gave a cheer and then the whole group moved off as Bartle was carried further down the village to the next stopping point where the Harker's were offered a drink in return for another rendition of Bartle’s verse. And so it continued on through the village, stopping at several houses and pubs for additional 'refreshment' and chants. The procession also made a point of stopping at the houses of older residents so they could come to the door or window to see Bartle and hear the chant. 

 After almost an hour the procession reached the east end of the village and the crowd followed Bartle as he was carried a short distance up Grassgill Lane. Here he was finally propped up against a drystone wall and John Harker proceeded to give a final chant of the rhyme, but this time as he finished the verse, Bartle was set alight, the flames engulfing the seated figure. A respectful hush fell on the crowd for a moment as they watched Old Bartle burn and then slowly topple over as the fire took hold.

 And so the burning of Bartle had taken place for another year, and the tradition continued. Only Bartle's glowing ashes remained as the assembled crowd joined in a round of songs celebrating the north country dales and its folk. After this, people stood around and chatted, while others made their way home, or for a celebration drink in one of the local pubs. 
They had all played a part in keeping this old tradition alive and no doubt Bartle would pay another visit to West Witton next year.

 

Bartle meets his end at Grisgill

http://www.halikeld.f9.co.uk/traditions/bartle/bartle1.htm

</O:P>