Heavy Haulage, Pre-Eddie Stobart
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Perennial harvest heavyweight, the carrier’s right hand, I sway with ponderous purpose up and down the land through mud, flood, heatwave, snow, rain or hail, I ferry hay through Haydock and coal through Coalbrookdale. In the cavalcade of transport I play a major part, so I’ll thank you to remember I’m a wagon, not a cart. I’ve spindle-sides in Lincolnshire, whilst Yorkshire favours planks and Suffolk folk place strouters all along my flanks. Hoop-raved or box pattern, half-lock or full, I simply bear the burden and let the horses pull. I’m more utilitarian than fashionable or smart, but I must re-emphasise that I’m a wagon, not a cart. Oak spokes, elm nave, ash felloes rimmed with iron hoops or strakes. Dog sticks, skid pans, drug bats or locking chains for brakes. My components form a lingo of quintessential sounds. My livery varies wildly from Denbeigh to the Downs. John Constable has framed me in the landscape painter’s art, so for pride’s sake, don’t forget that I’m a wagon, not a cart. by Peter Wyton |
art by R. K. Sohm
