The Battle of Grendon

Thursday 27th July 1876

Ye martial gods, of ancient date, grant me assistance to relate, A battle such as ne'er before, was witnessed in the days of yore. In Grendon town, of high renown, where peace and quiet did abound, Arose a feud, misunderstood, concerning the brook's flowing wood.

John Spencer bold, a farmer keen, declared his grievance to be seen. That Wright's dam, a wicked thing, did stop the water's gushing spring. "No longer shall this outrage stand!" he cried throughout the fertile land. And gathered men, both strong and true, their righteous purpose to pursue.

Then Wright arose, with anger grim, his heart with fury to the brim. "My water's mine, by hook or crook! No trespassing upon my brook!" With loyal chaps, a sturdy band, prepared to make a valiant stand. With pitchforks sharp and cudgels stout, they marched the angry foe to rout.

Upon the bridge, the clash began, a fearsome sight for mortal man. The air did ring with shouts and blows, as courage met with bitter foes. Joe Eden strong, with mighty fist, sent Spencer's teeth into the mist! Young Shadrach brave, alas, fell hard, a victim in this watery yard.

The village dames, with voices shrill, did watch the conflict from the hill. While husbands fought with might and main, amidst the dust and cries of pain. The brook, it seemed, a crimson hue, reflected deeds both grim and new. Until the Peelers did appear, and quelled the strife and dried each tear.

So let this tale be widely known, how Grendon's heroes stood their own. For water rights, they bravely fought, a lesson to all who have thought That rural life is always tame, and free from passion's burning flame. Remember well, ye folks of worth, the famous Grendon battle's birth!