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Wakefield Museums and Castles
Spirit of Wakefield costume design, 1933
Spirit of Wakefield costume design, 1933
This postcard printed by the Wakefield Express shows a costume design from the Wakefield Pageant.
The Spirit of Wakefield was played by Mrs Marjorie Harrison. She represented the culture and history of Wakefield.
Her cloak features golden fleur-de-lis, the symbol of Wakefield. The gown is decorated with the White Rose of Yorkshire.
The red seal on her dress represents Wakefield as the administrative centre of Yorkshire. She also carries a torch to symbolise education and progress.
Three young helpers attended the Spirit of Wakefield to help carry the train of the dress. They represented key local industries: rhubarb, textiles, coal mining and the cattle market.
Mrs Marjorie Harrison as the Spirit of Wakefield. Photograph courtesy of the Wakefield Express.
As the Spirit, Marjorie Harrison read the Pageant’s Prologue written by C. Denison Smith. It read:
O You who love to read the ancient tale
Of Merrie Wakefield in the Calder’s vale,
Halt here awhile: we’ll gaze on distant years
When this dear soil in other guise appears.
A forest land – the home of tribes untaught;
Then martial Rome, with road and wall and fort;
The Saxon’s camp; and on the Calder’s breast
The Northman’s longship on its reckless quest!
Not only those who seize by sword or spear,
But gentler conquerors raised their standards here:
The dales have heard the feet of saints go by;
Paulinus bears a mighty cross on high.
When Normans ruled, uprose on Sandal’s mound
de Warenne’s stronghold, seen from miles around,
Foredoomed to strife, to siege and fierce assay,
When Yorkist Richard perished in the fray.
In Mary’s Chantry orisons were said
For brave men vanquished, and the unshriven dead.
All is not strife – with guild and chartered fair
The Merrie City dons a peaceful air,
Though at the Butts the archers practise still,
And robbers roam the forest ways at will;
The Pindar hails the stranger for his corn,
And dares bold Robin on a summer’s morn.
The drifting years an angrier struggle bring,
When Parliament is armed against its King,
The cannon batter upon Sandal’s wall:
Despoiled and ruined her proud towers fall.
Still thrives the city, still men call her fair,
Though smoke and grime becloud the summer air.
No more we hear the weary packhorse tread
The Gothic bridge. The coaching days are dead.
A wider bridge has spanned the river gray –
So let us span the centuries today,
And breathe the prayer our townsmen framed of yore:
That Merrie Wakefield flourish evermore!
[As printed in the Yorkshire Observer Wakefield Pageant newspaper supplement, 16 June 1933.]