tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67652929217814819442024-03-05T18:46:10.270+00:00YESTERDAY IN MELTON MOWBRAYMemories of Days Long Gone.Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-82676769335897322662023-08-15T01:45:00.001+01:002023-08-15T01:50:20.624+01:00A SAD CASE OF 'BUMPING'<h2 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">DOWN ASFORDBY WAY. </span></h2>
<span><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">For my readers from out of town Wikipedia will explain that: Asfordby is a village and civil parish in the Melton District of Leicestershire to the west of Melton Mowbray on the A6006 road. The parish consists of Asfordby proper, Asfordby Valley and Asfordby Hill, all of which combined have a population of around 3000 residents. The villages are to the north of the River Wreake with Asfordby Hill situated east of Asfordby proper. Within Asfordby proper there are a few shops, mainly convenience ones. However you can find a fish and chip shop, an Indian restaurant, as well as a kitchen store and a Co-operative shop.'</span></i><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">In a manner of speaking, Asfordby could be perhaps described as a 'satellite' of Melton Mowbray and it is likely not to be too long before it becomes joined-up; in many aspects, the village has shared much of our local history. Over the span of the last couple of centuries, the Asfordbys have produced several citizens of note, but two particular landed families seemed to have dominated a large part of the limelight over the decades. The two substantial and convoluted families of the Marriotts and Houghtons have, over the decades, made hard work for today's genealogists and I have recently thrown in the towel on working out exactly which Houghton was which, where and when or even why! But in the early years of the 19th century, both families were to hit the headlines with a combination of tragic incidents. As the papers were to initially report:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">'A coroner’s inquest was held at Grimstone, near Melton Mowbray, on Thursday the 27th ult., on the body of Mr Gregory Marriott, of Asfordby. It appeared that the deceased, who was a corpulent man upwards of 60 years of age, attended the audit for receiving the rents of of the Earl of Ailseford on Wednesday, on which occasion he partook of the usual dinner, and drank to such excess as to be in a state of helpless intoxication: it is stated that, whilst he was in this condition, some of the company amused themselves by what is called “bumping” him - that is, lifting him by the legs and arms, and heaving the body whilst in a horizontal position against another person, in the manner practised by boys: some of the party, it is also said, poured gin down his throat. He was afterwards laid in a state of insensibility for several hours upon the floor of the room (the carousal still continuing), and when taken up, was found to be a corpse! The jury returned a verdict that the deceased died of apoplexy.'</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(From the <i>Stamford Journal</i> of March 7th 1834)</span></div>
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In these enlightened times we hear much about trouble with drunken customers of licensed premises, this especially at 'chucking-out' times, but this incident of 1834 might suggest that it is a practice which we have indeed inherited - sometimes to our detriment and even, shame - but of course, in terms of entertainment, this bizarre event occurred long before the days of I-pads and mobile phones, or even community Bingo. In all solemnity though, as wretched as the grotest occurrence proved to be, yet more tragedy was in store for the Marriott family when 5 months later the <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> was to report:<br />
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'A young female, wife of Mr Jasper Houghton, of Burton Lazars, near Melton Mowbray, died in child-bed on the 14th inst., aged 23, having given birth to twins, both dead. As the young couple were both from Asfordby, having lived at Burton for only ten months, it was determined that she should be buried near her relatives at her native place, and a hearse was ordered from Oakham to convey the body to Asfordby. On application being made to the clergyman to perform the rites of burial, he addressed the following note to the afflicted husband:-<br />
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<i>Sir, - I am determined to sett my face against burying other parishes dead in this church-yard, as we have no right to do so, as it is little enough as it is.<br /><br />Aug. 17, 1834. Your’s A. BURNABY.</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The order for the hearse was accordingly countermanded; a grave dug and bearers bidden at Burton; when the Asfordby clergyman sent word that he would receive and inter the body. - A third time a messenger was dispatched to Oakham for the hearse, and on the Sunday following the death of this sad and lamented wife and mother, she was consigned to a grave by the side of her father, Gregory Marriott, who death was noticed in this paper as having taken place a few months ago at Grimstone, under very lamentable circumstances.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">These particulars are published at the request of the relatives of the deceased. - Stamford Mercury'</span></div>
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And to put a gloss on the whole matter, in the following year there appeared this public announcement in the <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> of October 25th, 1835. To wit;<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">FREEHOLD ESTATE - At Asfordby, near Melton Mowbray</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">TO BE SOLD BY AUCTION BY BURTON AND CLARK</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> At the Bell Hotel, in Melton Mowbray, in the county of Leicester, on Tuesday the 17th day of November, 1835, at Four o’ clock in the afternoon, subject to such conditions of sale as will be then produced, in one or more lots as will be described in handbills, and may be determined upon at the time of sale.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> A very valuable FREEHOLD ESTATE, consisting of a substantial Farm House, Barn, Stables, and Outbuildings, and several Closes of of useful Arable, Meadow, and Pasture Land, lying together situate near to the village of Asfordby aforesaid, containing 72 acres or thereabouts, late belonging to Mr Gregory Marriott, deceased and now in the occupation of Messrs. Willbourn, whose Lease will expire at Lady Day next, when possession may be had.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> To view the estate apply to Mrs Marriott, of Asfordby and for further particulars at the office of Mr Bishop, Solicitor, Melton Mowbray, where a plan of the Estate may be seen.</span></div>
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What a desperate set of circumstances for the widow Marriott!</div>
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THE GROVE.</h4>
In the next generation, another Jasper Houghton (1864-1918) - there were several other 'Jaspers' in the area - was to marry an Alice Houghton in the winter of 1898 in Asfordby. In 1911 according to the National Census, this couple can be found ensconced in their grand new residence, <i>The Grove</i> was built for them during the year of their marriage. Also resident at in Asfordby at that time were the first batch of Houghton siblings:<br />
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William Henry 9<br />
Gladys Mabel 8<br />
Anthony W. Rayson 6<br />
Annie W. Alice 3<br />
George H. 2 months<br />
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25 years old local girl, Esther Wing, was the general domestic servant at that time and more than likely, the nanny.<br />
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Asfordby resident Bill Rudkin tells the following story in the <a href="http://asfordby.leicestershireparishcouncils.org/256784.html"><span style="color: red;">Asfordby Parish Council Website</span>,</a> and provides a few interesting pictures of the period. He writes:<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">THE GROVE</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="s2">by Bill Rudkin</span> </span></blockquote><p>Asfordby </p>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="s2">'The Grove was another large house of Asfordby which was built in 1898. It was </span><span class="s2">originally built for the local farmer Jasper Houghton and his wife Alice. They also had </span><span class="s2">a servant named Lucy Pick who was from Hoby and a gardener called Arthur </span><span class="s2">Chester who lived nearby in Rose Cottage on Saxelby Road. </span><span class="s2">The red-brick house was built of redbricks which were made in Leicestershire at Ellistown </span><span class="s2">brickworks. The bricks were loaded into rail wagons and shunted into the sidings at </span><span class="s2">Asfordby train station, before being transported to the building site by horse and </span><span class="s2">cart. </span><span class="s2">After the evacuation from Dunkirk during the war, 3 officers were billeted to The </span><span class="s2">Grove; their batmen lodged at Hazlewood’s across the road. </span><span class="s2">The house was eventually sold in 1972 and demolished in 1973 to make way for a </span><span class="s2">new housing estate. After it’s demolition, I remember fetching about 200 of the </span><span class="s2">bricks to build a cold frame and a retaining wall for a rockery in my garden. They </span><span class="s2">are still as good as when they were made. </span><span class="s2">Does anybody else have any old photographs or memories of the house?'</span></span></div>
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<i>The Grove</i> which stood for about three-quarters of a century is no longer extant and new streets of contemporary private housing cover the substantial plot which was once owned and controlled by the Houghton family.<br />
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-76617246277412900962021-11-11T00:28:00.002+00:002022-01-19T00:17:14.565+00:00<p class="p1" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px;"><b>WILLIAM TILL - PHOTOGRAPHER OF MELTON MOWBRAY. (1856-1912)</b></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;">I really do like the simple photography of William Till, probably more than of all the local photographers who have passed this way from time to time. Uncomplicated and with scant attention to fussy style or technical know-how, personalised with his immature hand-written annotations usually placed carelessly and seemingly lazily along the bottom, they importantly for us today, offer information as to when and less often, where it was taken. The result was usually appealing and especially after a century has passed, his work serves still today to ever remind us of times long passed.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;">William was an only child who grew up with his parents, namesake William Till, (1816-1871) and Hannah (Parr) who ran a hairdressers and perfumery business in Burton End, near to where the Colles Hall stands today and opposite the lovely twelfth century St Mary’s church.</span>After his basic schooling - education then legally ended at age 14 - he worked for a short time as a farm labourer but was to join his later widowed mother in the family shop at No. 3-5 Burton End where she dealt mainly in toys and fancy goods. At a later time the young William became enraptured with the fascinating new art - or science - of the new photography of which he acquired the necessary skills and combined it with picture-framing to earn a living from the premises whilst his mother dealt with the fancy goods. Photography was only just getting underway with the general public in the 1860s, but it was to burgeon into the following decade when William took up the challenge to convert his new hobby into a successful business which would eventually dominate his life.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Apparently well respected for his ability with a camera together with his business acumen, he seems to have produced a number of pictorial town views which sold briskly as postcards alongside his more formal studio work, many remainders of which are still passed around and discussed to the present time. Some items of pharmacy were also available in the family’s shops operated by various live-in chemists.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">When Hannah Till died in 1909, followed closely by William Snr. some three years later, all of the family’s property comprising three shops in Burton End and two others elsewhere in the town, together with all they contained, controversially went under the hammer by way of the local auction rooms, seemingly an odd intervention at the time which came about due to the fact that William’s father had, in a previous marriage produced a son named ‘Thomas Till’ who was born in 1843 in Melton Mowbray, when his father who was 26, was married to Eliza).<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Naturally claiming to be the intended sole heir to a modest family fortune, he was desperately disappointed to discover that he could not legally inherit what he had always understood to be his own inheritance.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But William Till was made of stern stuff and despite this potentially ruinous block by his step-brother to his future aspirations, he somehow raised the large amount then of £1,500 and attended at the auction house to bid for all of what he believed to be his.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It is likely that Thomas Till was not in a financial position to afford the high prices demanded at auction. </p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">William was not only to survive this massive personal set-back, but he moved onwards to prosper comfortably with success in his re-mortgaged business at the busy little shop in Burton End. In 1889, he would marry Emma Cobley of Melton Mowbray who bore him two sons, one of whom was to die in childbirth - Harold William in 1891 - leaving the survivor and their only son Lionel Leslie (1893-1959), to continue with the family business. Lionel served with the Leicestershire Regiment and the Norfolk Regiment during the course of the cruel conflict of 1914-1918, but it seems that the photographic business, as is frequently the case, was by now without any apparent interest or inclination on the part of the incumbent son and heir bring its termination soon after the death of William in 1912. During 1939, the year of the outbreak of World War II however, Leslie was known to be resident with his widowed mother at 31, Stafford Avenue in the town. This Record shows that he was then unmarried and working as a teacher at a Melton school. He was to marry in the June of 1941, Marie Maidens Reed in 1941 who died in 1971 having borne no kin.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His mother, Emma - or Emily - as she was apparently known - died in the Spring of 1947 aged 66.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Leslie died in 1959 in Melton Mowbray: he was just 66.</p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;"><br /></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 5px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 18px;">Within that relatively short period lifetime the abruptly terminated account of the photographic career of one of my favourite local photographers was closed; extending for a possible half century and although reaching no great personal height in his chosen profession, his work still creates interest amongst those who share an interest in local history today, though of course it never really is the end, as I continue to opine that there remain examples of his work waiting to return to the light of a modern day, monochrome prints or undiscovered postcards depicting the highways and by-ways or the characters and buildings of an old Melton Mowbray, hopefully waiting for us to cast our eyes upon once again or more excitingly as the 'holy grail' of researchers to be looked at for the first time. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-62548059670494440522019-12-25T20:12:00.002+00:002023-07-13T00:52:52.732+01:00AN EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES<br />
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A HIATUS AT THE HALL</span></h3>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">A century and a half ago, the summer of 1856 was reportedly an extremely good one in Melton Mowbray with dry and extended spells of languorous days and nights, a situation which was I am sure very much appreciated by the hard-working people of that town. But the long warm days of that high summer were to be rudely interrupted by a series of dark events which would create grounds for grim anxiety amongst many of its inhabitants and perhaps even amusement for others. Whilst an alleged murderer awaited trial for the vicious slaying of</span> two people in the town and a local businessman was shot in the chest by a crazed young solicitor's clerk, members of the local high society were having domestic problems of their own in the form of an acrimonious domestic dispute in the nearby village of Goadby Marwood which would ensure that the town's magistrates were adequately engaged. </span>In its Saturday edition of August 30th, 1856, the <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> published the following enticing snippet of news on an inside page:</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">... she emerged from gaol, wearing a fashionable brown hat and feather, with a black lace veil over it, and habited in a flounced muslin dress and black velvet cape. Glancing her eye about for a few moments, as if expecting a friend to receive her, she at length espied a young man and woman at the end of Mr Musson’s garden wall, near Carlton Terrace (who appeared to be waiting for her), in which direction she went. These two persons were, it was understood, the servant man and housemaid at Goadby Hall, who had a chaise and pair in attendance to convey her to Melton, into which vehicle the three entered, and were driven off for that place ....’</span></blockquote>
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Like something from a Victorian novel for ladies, it was coming across this interesting snippet of news in a local newspaper which drew my curiosity and persuaded me to discover more. I did indeed search further and learned of a contentious yet fascinating storm in a rural teacup, a very 'posh' domestic event which certainly had the effect of stirring the interests and passions of the local population who were ever willing to listen in on the secret comings and goings of their 'masters' who employed many of them. The Goadby case did indeed revolve around members of the very top drawer of the area's top families, but I formed the impression that if the cast of characters had involved any of the many agricultural worker's families who lived locally, the people of the press would have stayed at their desks.<br />
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The very small village of Goadby Marwood lies almost secretly hidden from the main highways and byways, being some 2 or 3 miles to the northeast of the ancient market town of Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire. The older part of the village is to be found today pretty much as it was at the time of these happenings, but has probably doubled in total size since. Local and well established landowner residents, the Manners family were, and still are, headed by the Dukedom of Rutland, established in this part of the world for many years at the family seat of nearby Belvoir Castle and through a number of interwoven marriages over the years, much of the family real estate and wealth has been established and increased in these parts. As an extremely numerous and convoluted landed family which has evolved over many decades, this would not be the best place to dwell on their detailed antecedent histories, except perhaps to paraphrase the following notes:</div>
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THE MANNERS FAMILY</span></h3>
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Complicated and convoluted indeed, the ‘who’s-who’ of the Manners family takes many column inches. Suffice to say for my purposes that the Earldom of Rutland produced Thomas Manners, (c. 1488–1543), the son of the 12th Baron de Ros of Hamlake, Truibut and Belvoir, who was created Earl of Rutland in the peerage of England in 1525. His mother, Anne St Leger, was Richard Plantagenet's granddaughter. The 9th Earl was later created Duke of Rutland and Marquess of Granby in 1703 by Queen Anne. Today, the incumbent at the family seat of Belvoir is David Manners, the 11th Duke, who has a son Charles (b. 1999), waiting in the wings.</span></div>
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Over the period of more than three centuries, the various Manners males have produced a plethora of offspring - many of them illegitimate - the product in many cases of idle dalliance with divers ladies of the court and even a fair number of those from 'below stairs'. For many years, various generations of the Dukes of Rutland were the incumbents representing the Melton Mowbray parliamentary Conservative constituency at Westminster.</span></div>
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BELVOIR CASTLE</h4><h4>Wikipedia tells us that ‘A Norman castle originally stood on the high ground in this spot during the English Civil War. It was one of the more notable strongholds of the King’s supporters. It eventually passed into the hands of the Dukes of Rutland and following a fire, was rebuilt by the wife of the 5th Duke, and gained its present Gothic castle look. The architect James Wyatt was chiefly responsible for this restructuring and the result is a building which bears a superficial resemblance to a medieval castle, its central tower reminiscent of Windsor Castle. The present castle is the fourth building to have stood on the site since Norman times. <a href="http://www.belvoircastle.com/" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">Belvoir Castle</span></a><span style="text-align: justify;"> has been the home of the Manners family for five hundred years and seat of the Dukes of Rutland for over three centuries.’ </span></h4>
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GOADBY MARWOOD HALL</h4><div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 19.184px;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.184px;">A 17th Century country house which is today Grade II listed, Goadby Hall in the small hamlet of Goadby Marwood, near to Waltham on the Wolds, was substantially altered about 1750 when a new south front was built in the</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.184px;"> </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palladian_architecture" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 19.184px; text-decoration: none;" title="Palladian architecture">Palladian style</a><span><span style="line-height: 19.1761px;">. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.184px;">The 180-acre (0.7 km2) estate was a subsidiary holding of the</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.184px;"> </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duke_of_Rutland" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 19.184px; text-decoration: none;" title="Duke of Rutland">Duke of Rutland</a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.184px;">, and the property was often the residence of junior members of the Manners family. Lady Elizabeth Manners, daughter of the 4th Duke married Richard Norman MP in 1798. Their son George Norman inherited the estate and hall from his cousin the 7th Duke.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.184px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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So this was the background of some of the characters involved in the rather astonishing and unwholesome events which were to unfold to the public gaze and within ears</span>hot during that summer of 1856, when the Normans and a young Miss Mary Johnson shared a presence at the Melton Mowbray Magistrates Court. During that same week, the small town was to suffer the indignity and upheaval of two other violent events involving the infamous murderer of two people, William Brown and also the would-be murderer of local architect and respected estate agent, Mr William Shouler, who had recently survived a point-blank pistol shot to the chest by a young man of temporary unsound mind. If the case of William Brown, known notoriously as 'Peppermint Billy' had created massive fear and ire for the good people of Melton Mowbray, the shenanigans and petty squabbles of the upper- crust parties and their cavalier treatment of legal proceedings with the assistance of their lesser peers who administered it, was to cause great resentment amongst the 'proletariat', not to mention two of the local newspapers which would diverge politically in their opinions of the societal shenanigans and political manipulations which were created at the time.</div>
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MUCH ADO ABOUT LITTLE.</span></h4>
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THE <i>Dramatis Personae</i></span></h3>
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T<span style="font-family: trebuchet;">o properly follow this sad little tale of what was essentially a domestic or family spat, it is better to have some knowledge as to whom fills the parts played, so heading the cast is the the Reverend Edward Manners, M.A. of Goadby Rectory, one-time Rector of Kirby Bellars who was by now retired, but chronically bed-bound and living out his final days. A member of the local Belvoir Manners family and born in 1786, Edward was admitted to Christ's College, Cambridge in June 1822 and after brief residences at Chester and Lincoln he was to be ordained Rector of Goadby Marwood Parish in September 1825. He died at the Manor House, Kirby Bellars on December 21st, 1857. </span></span><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In 1807 Edward had married Elizabeth Hill who was to pre-decease him in 1830 at the young age of 45yrs, having produced three daug</span>hters; these were </span><u style="text-align: justify;">Ann</u><span style="text-align: justify;"> b. 1823 who never married and </span><u style="text-align: justify;">Louisa Julia</u><span style="text-align: justify;"> b. 1814 who was married in 1834 to George Norman, landowner, politician J.P. and general pillar of local society. A third daughter, </span><u style="text-align: justify;">Elizabeth Caroline</u><span style="text-align: justify;"> was born in 1815 and she married the Reverend William Hartopp in Nether Broughton in 1850 and following his death after just two years, she married another man of the cloth in Reverend Nathan Hubbersty of Derbyshire and bizarrely, Elizabeth herself was to die in 1854 after just two more years of marriage. The Manner's family were usually resident at Goadby Marwood Hall, but towards the end of his life Edward was to relocate to the Rectory, just next door having passed over the family seat to his eldest daughter Ann.</span></div>
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In the opposite corner of this family dispute were included the the Reverends domestic staff who were local people of the village and when a friction was working up into, when it seems that bad blood was brewing up between the two sisters Ann and Louisa, a situation that was to reach boiling point and spill over during a visit to their ailing and frail father at the Rectory on Tuesday 22nd July. On the 26th, the '<i>Leicester Chronicle'</i> reported the first public column inches of the dispute and its nasty consequences, followed a week later with a more detailed account.</div>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<u><span style="font-size: small;">EXTRAORDINARY ASSAULT CASE.</span></u></h3></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> The town of Melton Mowbray was on Thursday in a state of tense excitement, the cause of which was an assault which had been committed upon Mrs Norman, wife of George Norman Esq., of Goadby Marwood Hall, by three of the servants of the Rev. E. Manners, of Goadby Parsonage, the father of Mrs. Norman.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> The case came on at three o'clock, in the Magistrates Room at the Corn Exchange, when there was a large attendance of the public. The Magistrates on the Bench were C.H. Frewen, Esq., M.P., (chairman,) Rev</span>. F. Norman, H.C. Bingham Esq., and J.C. Beasley Esq.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> The defendants were Mary Johnson, David Ecob, and Thomas Landers, who were charged with unlawfully assaulting Louisa Julia Norman, at Goadby Marwood, on the 22nd July. Landers is a groom in the service of the Rev E. Manners, Ecob occupies a similar position, and Mary Johnson acts as a companion to Miss [Ann] Manners, the daughter of the Rev. E. Manners. Mary Johnson is the young woman who took out a game certificate about two years ago, and injured her hand whilst out shooting, a notice of which appeared in the <i>Chronicle</i> at the time. She appeared in court richly dressed with valuable rings on her fingers and carried a bouquet of gay flowers in her hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mr Atter, of Stamford, appeared on behalf of the defendants, who had been apprehended on Thursday night, under a warrant issued by Mr. Bingham. The hearing of the case occupied three hours, and the circumstances are of so unusual a character that we intend giving next week a full report a full report of the case. We only have time and space this week to give a brief outline.</span></div></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span>T</span>he following is part of the promised later account as published by that newspaper the following week:</div></blockquote>
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THE SCENE AT A PARSONAGE HOUSE</span></h3>
<h4 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
EXTRAORDINARY SCENES AT GOADBY MARWOOD.</span></h4></blockquote>
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<span><span style="font-size: small; white-space: pre;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></span><span>We gave last week a brief account of this remarkable case of assault, heard before the Melton magistrates, on Thursday, July 24th. we now fulfill the promise we then made, to give a full report of the proceedings. The assault complained of took place on Tuesday, July 22nd, while Mr Norman was attending his magisterial duties at Melton. The complaint is the wife of George Norman Esq. who reside at Goadby Marwood Hall, and the defendants were domestics in the establishment of the complainant’s father, the Reverend Edward Manners, M.A. of Goadby Rectory. It appears that for some time past a feeling had existed between the parties concerned of not the most friendly nature, and annoyances of various kinds have been submitted to. As we stated last week, one of the defendants, Mary Johnson, who is a farmer’s daughter, has for some time been a companion to Miss [Ann] Manners, and has had a great share in the management of the household at the Rectory. The other defendants were man-servants employed there.</span></span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mary Johnson is a good looking young person, apparently about 22 years of age, lady-like in appearance, and was gaily-dressed when she appeared in Court. Her penchant for sporting has on one or two occasions been noticed in the <i>Chronicle</i>. We believe that it is now about two years since she took out a certificate to shoot, and shortly afterwards, whilst out shooting, she met with an accident, and lost part of one finger by the accidental discharge of her gun. The warrant for the assault was issued by Mr Bingham on Wednesday, and the same evening the defendants were apprehended by Superintendent Condon, at the Rectory. They were conveyed to the lock-up at Melton, where they were detained until three o’ clock on Thursday afternoon, when the case came on in the Magistrates Room at the Corn Exchange. The Court was crowded during the hearing of the case. The following Magistrates were on the Bench:- C. H. Frewen, Esq., M.P. (chairman), T. C. Beasley, Esq., H. C. Bingham, esq., and the Rev. P. Norman. George Norman, Esq., occupied a seat immediately behind the magistrates, and offered suggestions to his brother magistrates during the hearing of the case.</span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter of Stamford, appeared on behalf of the defendants; the cross-examination on behalf of the complaint, of the witnesses for th</span><span>e defence was conducted by Mr Frewen and Mr Bingham.</span></div>
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<span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The case came before the Bench upon the complaint of Louisa Julia Norman, of Goadby Marwood, charging Mary Johnson, Thomas Landers, and David Ecob, with having, on the 22nd of July, assaulted her.</span></div>
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<span><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mrs Norman deposed as follows:- 'I am living at Goadby Marwood, and reside at the hall. My father, the R<span style="font-family: trebuchet;">ev. Edward Manners resides at the parsonage. He is a very old man. I have been in the habit of visiting him, and my father never denied me, but was glad to see me. I went there at a quarter past twelve o’ clock on the 22nd July. I went into the house and found the door locked. Ecob came in, and I enquired for my sister. I asked him to go and tell her I wanted to see my father. He said she was ill, and had been having leeches, and that the doctor said I was not to see my father. I said I shall not ask any doctor whether I will be permitted to see my father, and I shall insist on seeing him. I then went to the staircase and called my sister two or three times. As I received no answer, I went upstairs to the door of the room where I thought she was. I knocked on the door and received no answer. I then went down into the kitchen, and said, “I shall remain in this house until I have seen my father.” </span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">I asked all the servants in the room where she was, and they said they did not know. I then went and sat down in a chair, opposite my father’s bedroom, on the ground floor. After a few minutes, Mary Johnson came up, with the key in her hand, to unlock my father’s room door. She put the key to the door, but did not unlock it. I stepped up directly to the door, and said, “I wish to see Mr Manners.” I put my hand upon the handle of the door. She instantly drew the key out, and gave my hand a sharp blow, saying, “You shall not go in.” There is a mark now on my hand where she struck me. I then left my hold with the left hand, and took hold with my other. The violence of the blow she gave me broke the ring upon my little finger. She then said “You shall not go in, unless he wishes to see you.” I said, “When he does not wish to see me, I will go away, but not until then.” She then took hold of my right thumb and bent it violently back. She said several things to which I made no reply, and I still remained by the door. I took a chair which stood in the hall, and said “I shall stay here until I do see Mr Manners” I placed the chair against the room door. She then went outside the house, and called through the window of my father’s room, “Here is Mrs Norman, she wants to come in - am I to obey her orders, or those of Mr Douglass?” I stood close to the door and heard no answer made, Mary Johnson called to me and said “Mr Manners does not wish to see you, and if you like you can come here and hear him say so.” She then came into the hall, and said, “If you do not go, you shall be turned out.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Campion was not putting down the whole of Mrs Norman’s statement; therefore Mr Atter appealed to the magistrates, and wished to have the whole taken down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Frewen said the witness was only making a statement, in order that they might see what was material. What was not material need not be taken down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter considered it very important that the precise words of the witness should be taken down. If (said he) this is an open court, and the public are to hear the proceedings, I only want it to be known what is said against the accused. I contend that the depositions ought to be taken at length, and not in this loose manner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Frewen thought it quite unnecessary to take down the immaterial parts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter submitted that the part he wished now to be taken down was most material.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Frewen repeated that what was material only would be taken down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: You say she said, “If you do not leave, I shall have to turn you out?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mrs Norman:- She said, “I will turn you out.” Landers then came up to me, by her orders, and said ”Come, go out, you have no business here: get out, you are not wanted here.” I said to him, “I am not going to obey your orders.” He said ”come then, I’ll make you get out.” He took hold of a book I had in my hand, and tore it violently from me. Mary Johnson then called the other man, and said, “Turn her out, drag her out, do you not hear what I say to you? take her out instantly, obey your orders.” Thomas Landers then took hold of me. I took hold of the handle of the door with one hand, and of the bar of the spring with the other. Landers put his hands round my waist, and Mary Johnson took hold of me. I said “Mind what you do.” I received two or three severe bruises on my arm, which is still very much discoloured and swelled. I believe the blows were given by Thomas Landers, but in the struggle I cannot say positively who it was. One stood at the entrance door, and the other a little way off, when Mary Johnson spoke to them. They both took hold of me and pulled me in a very violent way, and they threw me out of the door with force. I fell upon the gravel, and I believe Landers threw me down. I turned round quickly, and opened two small lattices in the front, and jumped in at the window of my father’s room. He was sitting at the end of the table not doing anything, and he looked wild and bewildered, with no expression of anger on his face. I said to him, “Are you aware of this outrage?” He said, “What my dear?” He was looking as if surprised at the noise. I took hold of his hand, and at the same time , the servants came in at the door. The three defendants came in in a violent manner. Mary Johnson rushed at and violently pushed me aside, so violently that I almost fell. I was leaning at the time at the end of the table, and she pulled me away. She then said in a very loud voice to Mr Manners, “Do you wish me to turn Mrs Norman out?” She said immediately, he says ”Yes, yes.” I never heard him speak. When she asked the question she stood opposite to him, as near as I did. Thomas Landers immediately repeated the words “Yes, yes”, I said “No, he said nothing.” Thomas Landers then put his arm round my waist and pulled me down on the floor. It made me feel very sick but did not knock me down. Landers then used most insulting language, and followed me. I felt I was in danger of severe bodily injury, and I dare not stay any longer, so I went back to the gate, and went away from the premises. I never saw any persons whilst I was there, except a man going by on horseback before the affray began. After Landers gave me the blow on the breast, no further assault took place, as I kept stepping backward. I had various bruises on me and could not sleep at night, because of my arms and legs aching. I was obliged to put one arm in a sling. I cautioned Landers against touching me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Cross-examined by Mr Atter: I think, Mrs Norman, Mary Johnson has resided four years with Mr Manners?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: I think she has.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Your sister also resided there I think?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: Yes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Did you not know that at this time she was ill, and having leeches applied?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: I did not know until they told me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: father, I think, is old?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: Sixty-nine last March.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Now for some time past I think that there has not been the most friendly relationships between your father and yourself?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: Nothing had occurred at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> Mr</span> Atter: There have not been, I think, regular visits in the way you could have wished?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: I have gone as often as I had time to go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Did you not apply to his surgeon to ascertain if it was advisable that you should visit him or not?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: I do not think I am called upon to answer that question. I do not see that it has anything to do with the assault.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: I ask no questions except fair ones. One of your answers was, that you should not ask a doctor. Now I ask you if you have ever asked permission of a doctor? I ask you, is this the letter, addressed to Mr Douglass, surgeon, of Wymondham, in your handwriting?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: Yes, it is my handwriting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>At the request of Mr Atter, the letter was read by Mr Campion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The letter was dated from Goadby Hall, and the writer, Mrs Norman, stated in it that she should be obliged to Mr Douglass if he could inform her whether he left an order that she should not be admitted to see her father. She did not wish to make any use of his name, but only asked for her own satisfaction.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Had you previously to writing that letter had any intimation that your father had given orders that you were not to be admitted?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: No, I had not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Then how can you explain the writing of that letter. if you had received no such intimation?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: I do not see that it has anything to do with the assault case.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: I only ask for an answer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: That has nothing to do with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> Mr</span> Atter: I have put a plain question, and your worships will decide whether I am entitled to an answer. I ask, if she has always been received and never rejected, why she wrote such a letter to Mr Douglass?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Witness: I wrote to him, to ask him if he left an order that I was not to be admitted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter: Did you receive an intimation that such was the case?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Witness: I did not. It has nothing to do with the case.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Hubberty, who married a Miss Manners, and sat by the side of Mr Norman, here interposed a remark, but was interrupted by Mr Atter, who enquired of him if he was a magistrate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Mr Atter said Mrs Norman had received all of the assistance the Court could give her, and all he wanted was the same indulgence for the accused. a letter had been written to Mr Douglass, the medical attendant of Mr Manners, and he wanted to know if Mrs Norman had not received a previous intimation that her presence there was objectionable. There must be some reason for writing a letter of that description.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify; white-space: pre;"><span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> ......and much m</span>ore......</span>.</span><br />
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<h3>
<span style="font-size: small;">
The Backlash</span></h3>
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The bizarre and pathetic circumstances of this short trial, which in reality was but a mere dribble in a china tea-cup, was to culminate in a truly inimical and overly zealous finding of guilt followed by a severe punishment which was to immediately raise the ire of the people in the county - especially in her own small village of Goadby - and when the story was telegraphed more widely and copied to many of the newspapers across the wider country its effect was to create a feeling of shame and indignity amongst many thinking people. In particular, the '<i>Leicestershire Mercury'</i> of August 9th that year, which was quick to print the following stinging rejoinder to the Melton authorities;<br />
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<u><span style="color: red;">AGRARIAN LAW.</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> O</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">ur readers have doubtless perused with some degree of interest the particulars of the remarkable assault case tried before the Melton Mowbray Bench of Magistrates at a special sessions convened on the 23rd July last and terminated by the sentence of Mary Johnson and Thomas Landers to imprisonment and hard labour, the first for a period of one, and the second for that of four calendar months. Upon the extraordinary nature of the proceedings instituted on that occasion, and upon the great severity of the punishment inflicted on at least one of the prisoners, we feel it our duty to make a few passing comments.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Mrs Julia Norman, the complainant, is the wife of Mr Norman, a county magistrate residing at Goadby Marwood Hall, and the daughter of the </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Rev. Edward Manners, a clergyman of the church of England, who lives in Goadby Rectory. The household of the latter gentleman is superintended by another daughter, Miss Ann Manners, assisted by Miss Mary Johnson, the daughter of a retired farmer. Between the former lady and her sister Mrs. Norman, as it may be inferred, there is some serious misunderstanding.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mr E. Manners is in such a state of health that his medical attendant, Mr Douglass, recommends perfect quiet to his patient, and in order to guard him from all mental excitement, directs that his attendants only shall be admitted to his room. On the 22nd July Mrs Norman calls at the Rectory, and requests an audience with her sister. This is declined on the plea that Miss Manners is indisposed. She next asks to be allowed to speak with her father with equal ill success, and after the refusal of her application, declares her determination not to quit the house without a personal communication with Mr Manners. At this moment Miss Johnson enters the apartment, and proceeds to unlock a door communicating with Mr. Manner’s room. A physical contest is forthwith commenced between the two ladies, which, after being for some time sustained, is summarily cut short by the intervention of Thomas Landers, a servant of the establishment, by whose joint efforts and those of Miss Johnson, the process of ejecting Mrs. Norman is completed with considerable violence. Mrs. Norman then enters her father’s apartment by a window, and after appealing to him on the subject of the outrage just perpetrated upon her, is again - with the full consent and express direction of Mr. Manners, according to his solemn declaration, taken before Mr Latham, but without it, according to the affirmation upon oath of his daughter - once more forcibly removed from the house. In the second struggle certain severe blows, accompanied with insulting language, are inflicted upon her by Landers, and for this injury she appeals in the ordinary manner, to the Melton magistrates for redress.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> We have thus succinctly stated the case, according to the evidence given by the offended party, as it is reported in length in the <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> of last week. Mrs. Norman it will be observed, is not only prosecutrix, but the sole witness to the violence which she represents to have sustained without any provocation given on her part. We have no wish, however, to impugn or throw the slightest doubt upon the veracity of the complainant. Some allowance might be made for the natural excitement under which she was labouring. Some stress might be laid upon the fact that the only parties (three in number) capable of giving an opposite testimony to her own were every one defendants in the case. We will, however, take her statement without any such deductions, and assume that that it was made with perfect accuracy and impartiality in every respect. We will assume, too, that Miss Johnson and her attendants acted without orders from Mr Manners, although he himself has made a directly opposite declaration, and that the blows inflicted were such as described, although no medical testimony was induced in corroboration of this most important fact. We will admit, in short, all the alleged particulars of the assault. But to the perfect propriety of the proceedings before the Melton Bench in this instance, we can by no means so readily give our assent: nor to that of the sentence afterwards delivered by the Magistrates: nor to that of the conduct of the officials charged with the duty of conveying the convicted parties to their destined place of punishment.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> In the first place, we find that a special session was convoked for the hearing of the case. The assault is committed on the 22nd of July. On the 23rd, proceedings are instituted and the matter is forthwith decided without the remotest possibility of appeal. Where was the necessity for this unwanted precipitation? Secondly, it appears that Miss Johnson was not cited to appear by summons, but arrested summarily by warrant at a moment’s notice, and confined in the Melton lock-up until produced to answer the charges brought against her. What was the purpose of this unusual harshness?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> In the course of the trial, Mr. Atter, of Stamford, the attorney for the defence, again and again entreated the magistrates to postpone their decision, in order that the personal evidence of Mr. Manners might be produced in confirmation of the facts alleged in his written declaration. Every lawyer must see that that was a point of vital importance to the accused. Why was Mr. Atters request so sternly negatived? or in what possible way would the interests of justice have suffered by the desired postponement? Further, Mr. Norman, the husband of the complainant, and a witness to the marks of violence upon her person, takes his seat, according to the report of the Leicester Chronicle, immediately behind the judicial bench, and from time to time makes suggestions to his brother magistrates. Mr. Hubbersty, a brother-in-law of Mr. Manners, sits behind Mr Norman and also offers remarks upon the evidence. Why was not the unseemly interference in both cases at once rebuked. Then again, the defendant Landers, wishing to make certain statements to the Court in his defence, is prohibited from doing so after the following curious dialogue:-</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Landers: Am I allowed to ask Mrs. Norman a question or two?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mr. Frewen: You should have asked them before.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Landers: I never had an opportunity. I want to ask Mrs. Norman what she said to me at the back of the stairs, before she went into the kitchen. I asked her if she did not know that I was the groom.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mrs. Norman: I said, do you know which is Miss Manners room?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The magistrates said they would put the questions.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Landers: Ask Mrs. Norman what Mr. Manners said when she asked him if we should turn her out.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mrs Norman: I never heard my father say a single word.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Landers: He told me to take her out; and by his orders I did so. Ask her if Miss Johnson did not say, shall Mrs. Norman go out of the room, and if Mr. Manners did not say, yes, take her out.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mrs. Norman: No.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Landers: There are two witnesses in the room, and they can prove it.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mr. Frewen: Mrs. Norman says, he did not say so.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Landers: But he did, and Mrs Norman tore my shirt and trousers; she did not tell you that.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mr. George Norman (to the police): Make him hold his tongue.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Landers complained that he had never been allowed to speak before.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Mr. Campion (the Magistrates Court’s Clerk): You have no right to speak.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> At last comes the decision of the Magistrates - four months imprisonment with hard labour to Thomas Landers with doubt expressed whether this period of work at the <b><span style="color: blue;">crank</span></b>* ought not to have been extended to the full term of six months under the new act - 1 month imprisonment and hard labour to Miss Johnson for one calendar month. Is such a sentence warranted we will not say by the letter, but by the obvious spirit and intention of the aggravated assaults Bill (17 and 18 Victoria), headed by the preamble, “Whereas the present law has been found insufficient for the protection of women and children from violent assaults”. The answer to this question we have to be supplied by other jurists than ourselves. In the meantime, one thing is certain, that by the rigid interpretation of the above statute, both Mary Johnson and Thomas Landers are alike at this moment toiling through their effective terms of confinement upon hard fare, and with the accompaniment of severe or menial labour within the walls of the county prison of Leicester.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> It appears that with the following very dignified address from the Bench, the Melton Petty Sessions of July 22nd was brought to its conclusion.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> The defendant Landers wished to address a few more words to the Bench but was stopped by Mr. Frewen, who said; “We don’t want to hear any more about it, you’ll go to your four months to the house of correction.”</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* The notorious and dreaded '<b><span style="color: blue;">crank</span></b>' was, until 1865, utilised within Midland prisons along with other brutish methods of <i>hard labour</i>. Comprising a wheel with a counting device affixed to a box of gravel, the wretched prisoner would be required to rotate the handle a given number of times before any nourishment would be made available to him. Not unique to Leicester Prison, this activity produced no useful or profitable conclusion and was later, along with the practice of solitary confinement, considered to be a cruel and unnecessary punishment and discontinued. It is said that at Birmingham Prison that if the prisoner did not complete the required number of rotations he was kept in the crank cell until late into the night. This usually meant that he would miss supper and have no food until the following morning. <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.blackcountrymuse.com/prisonconditions.htm"><span style="color: red;">Read here for more</span></a> </span>information on life in Victorian prisons.</span></div>
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One week later, the following appeared in the same newspaper of Saturday, August 16th, 1856:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<u>THE GOADBY MARWOOD ASSAULT CASE.</u></h4>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> 'It appears that, in our succinct account last week of the proceedings, instituted against Miss Mary Johnson and Thomas Landers at the suit of Mrs George Norman of Goadby Marwood hall, we omitted one part of the remarkable and memorable sentence pronounced by the Melton Bench on that occasion. We have recently been informed that, in addition to the one month’s imprisonment with hard labour, awarded to the former, and to the four months of similar toil and confinement assigned to the latter defendant, both were alike sentenced to find sureties for their good behaviour for the space of twelve calendar months. This we think, was the only addition required to make the judgement of the Melton Magistrates complete, as a rich specimen of something more than questionable law, but of the most unquestionable precipitation and severity. The case as it now stands we believe to be unique. That it will obtain a wide and lasting celebrity among the curiosities of rural justice, does not admit of a doubt. In the meantime, we think it most desirable, that it should attract the serious attention of her Majesty’ present Secretary of State for the Home Department.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> According to the famous saying of Martin Luther, the human intellect may be compared to a drunken clown trying to ride a restive horse. If he succeeds in mounting the animal on one side, he is certain, before long, to fall to the ground on the other. If this aphorism is correct in its application to questions of metaphysical Science, or to the mysteries of Divinity, it is certainly no less true, in relation to Legislation and Jurisprudence.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> A short time since, the English public was horrified, and not unreasonably, by the number of brutal assaults committed upon defenseless women and children, by intoxicated husbands and unnatural parents. Wives half killed, or grievously mutilated - infants with bruised limbs and emaciated bodies, and brought to the very verge of the grave by systematic ill-treatment, were constantly recurring objects in our courts of petty session. Against the perpetration of such inhuman cruelties, a storm of indignation naturally arose. A revision of the existing law of assault was clamorously demanded. And the consequence was a new act permitting the punishment of hard labour, for a period not exceeding six calendar months to be inflicted on offenders in “aggravated” cases. But in what sense the word “aggravated” was to be received, the law unfortunately neglected to define. That was to be determined by the discretion of the Magistrate.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> And now we see some of the results of this lax, hasty and indefinite legislation. Under the old law, the offence of Miss Johnson, supposing all alleged against her to be thoroughly proven, would have been visited with a moderate fine and in default of payment, with a not very serious imprisonment. But for reasons, to me wholly inexplicable, the judges have determined that her case comes within the category of “aggravation” - that it is, in fact, to be classed with those little less of homicidal acts of violence, which the framers of the new act no doubt had exclusively in their view, and for the punishment and repression of which alone, it is plain that the additional penalty of hard labour was meant to be imposed. To Miss Johnson, the consequences have been painful enough. But to the public in general, the future results of this power of arbitrary interpretation may possibly prove of a still more serious character. If the decision of the Melton Bench is to be taken as a rule, it would appear that any assault only has to be presumed aggravated to be punished accordingly. The chastisement of a child by its relative - the chance ugly encounter between two angry women in a market place, or between two educated ladies in a drawing room - (such scenes, it appears, are quite within the limits of possibility) - may consign the offending party not only to summary arrest and the prompt decision of a court of special petty sessions, but to the additional penalty of close confinement in the county or borough gaol, with accompaniment of such a period of hard labour as the criminal law assigns to the convicted thief and to the suspected burglar, to the midnight poacher and to the receiver of stolen goods, to the perpetrator of acts of the most unseemly indecency and to keepers of the worst places of vicious resort.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> With these illustrations of the possible working of the new law of assault, it is to be hoped that an “Act to amend” the Act 16 and 17 Victoria, ch. 30, may be among the earliest measures submitted to the notice of the House of Commons after the commencement of the ensuing session.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <span style="color: red;">We observe</span>, with some surprise, that our local contemporary, the <i>Leicester Advertiser</i>, takes a rather different view of the late assault at Goadby Marwood from ourselves. Our contemporary “has always regarded the Melton Bench as very favourable specimens of the firmness and uprightness with which justice is administered in our petty sessions”, and thinks the the late decision which consigned “two of the Goadby domestics to prison” is one of which every husband and father, every lover of strict justice, must rejoice”. In his opinion, the sentence of the Melton Bench errs only on the side of excessive clemency. The “woman” Johnson, instead of one months hard labour should have had at least four months. The securities for her future good behaviour “should have been proportionate to her own estimate of her importance - evidenced by her dress, jewellery and equipage.” Finally, the <i>Advertiser</i> assures us that the prosecutrix in the late trial, is just now the subject of universal sympathy, and the whole chivalry of the County of Leicester is “up” in behalf of Mrs. Norman.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Thus far the <i>Advertiser.</i> Very delicate indeed and in exquisite taste, is this allusion to the “woman” Johnson, and to her present punishment, as contrasted with her former “dress, jewellery and equipage.” If, however, this “chivalry” of Leicestershire, wherever that element may be found, is indeed as our contemporary states “up” and ready to fly to the lists on behalf of the Lady of Goadby Marwood. we would merely suggest that according to the best authorities on the subject, it is no chivalrous quality to take arms in support of one party before the other has been heard in her defence. If this is not chivalry, it is at any rate that by which “chivalry” has long been superseded - namely, common sense and common justice. At present we only have Mrs Norman’s statement as to the particulars of the late assault. Miss Johnson has no means of appeal to public opinion. In the “chivalrous” English of Mr George Norman she has been very effectually “made to hold her tongue”. But the time may come when the secrets of her prison visits will be fully made known, and when to these may be superadded her version of what we presume the <i>Advertiser</i> would call the late “gentle passage of arms” of Goadby Marwood. Pending this revelation it may perhaps be as well for the “Leicestershire “chivalry” to repress its hasty tendencies to be “up” - and as well for our respected contemporary, the <i>Leicestershire Advertiser</i>, to keep its somewhat one-sided conclusions and remarks for a while in abeyance. </span></div>
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-50671182780220366542019-05-06T22:22:00.004+01:002022-01-03T00:05:18.685+00:00THE LOST CHILDREN OF FRED AND MARY TYLER.<style type="text/css">
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<h1 style="text-align: left;">A LONG LIFES WORK </h1><h1 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">==================</span></h1><h1 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">The below poignant epitaph has been left for us on a tombstone locally; likely forgotten and definitely sadly abandoned now for many years, it stands in a badly neglected former non-conformists' cemetery in the ancient part of Melton Mowbray, propped against a boundary wall; wherever lie the human remains to which it refers and once stood over, I have no idea.</span></h1>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="s1"><b>IN AFFECTIONATE<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>REMEMBRANCE OF<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">—————</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>JULIANA</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born May 6th, died September 27th, 1843.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>FREDERICK</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born September 21st, 1844, died May 25th, 1846.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>ARTHUR</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born November 2nd, 1845, died January 11th, 1846.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>MARY</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born December 8th, 1846, died May 25th, 1847.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>JULIA</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born December 16th, died March 10th, 1848.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>FREDERICK</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born January 28th, died October 6th, 1849.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>SARAH ELIZABETH</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born January 22nd, died July 31st, 1850.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>MARY JANE</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born March 7th, died August 31st, 1851.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>LOUISA</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born May 22nd, died October 15th, 1852.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>RICHARD</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born July 3rd, died September 24th, 1855.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>FANNY</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Born December 6th, 1856, died January 21st, 1859.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>THE BELOVED CHILDREN OF FREDERICK & MARY TYLER.</b></span></div>
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<div class="p5" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: right;">[<span style="font-size: xx-small;">WEAVER</span>]</div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;">
<span class="s1"></span> </div><div class="p5" style="text-align: center;">---------------------------------</div><div class="p5" style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="p5" style="text-align: left;">But why did I deem it to be 'poignant' that day and what was it that attracted my special attention? It was the dates, numbers and the very young ages of the many poor children listed and with my very basic schoolboy maths I surmised that this lady had been one of those poor Victorian mothers who had been through the wringer and back during a desperate life as a would-be mother. I couldn't work out the involutions of her seemingly forgettable family journey <i>in situ</i>, so I photographed the stone in order to work it out later, also to escape the rain, but, just peruse the dates of the births and deaths as shown above and do the math for yourself. My maths did indeed confirm that this young lady had spent the best young years of her life in an almost lost cause.</div><div class="p5" style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">CURIOSITY</h3>
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<span class="s1">Accustomed as I am to meandering about my local grave-yards about the town and further afield - especially on a Sunday morning when there are less people to see me going about my idiosyncratic pastime - I occasionally come across a few words inscribed on a headstone which give me great food for thought, not to mention many interesting tales to pass on.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I have been moved to write in the past of the story of three young men, siblings all, who had passed away in the summer months of a century ago during the visit of a massive weather event to the area.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The sad story which unfolded of the tragic events at the small village of Barsby on a dark and stormy night in October of 1927, I have written about elsewhere, but my point is that it is my tendency to be curious which creates my continuing interest in the past. </span><br />
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<span class="s1">During one such stroll in the old town's St Mary’s Gardens, immediately behind ‘Tubes Night-Club, I was attracted to a particularly large and beautifully embellished stone of dark-grey Swithland slate which was exquisitely inscribed by an obviously skilled artisan. The mason's name ‘WEAVER’ in block capitals appended at the very bottom of the slab informs me that it was crafted by Mr Samuel Weaver, </span><span class="s1"> local builder and stonemason/engraver of Sage Cross Street and the year was likely to be 1859.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span> I was not only attracted by the fine work of the engraver as what really drew my attention was the amount of script he had squeezed into into his allotted space.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>As depicted in the above illustration, the names of no fewer that 11 children - that is seven girls and four boys - all seemingly of the parentage of Frederick and Mary Tyler are shown, all of which had died at a very young age with some most likely at the time of their birth. The more I perused the still very legible list, the more I meditated as to whatever had lain behind the tragic story of this ‘message’ left behind more than 150 years ago.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">As for the the maths,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I gave up on the task soon after I began to work out the ages or days lived by each of these eleven babies; perhaps you might like to work this out for yourself - and to forgive me any errors found. Puzzled and ever inquisitive though I engaged in the task of discovering who this desperate couple might have been, especially the poor mother who had obviously suffered the bulk of the wasted endeavour and the long days, months and years of grieving and likely despondency of their own.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I can pretty well safely say that Mary Tyler had spent at least 23 years in confinement and can assert that in this period of time she was to give birth to a grand total of no less than 17 children of which only 3 boys and 3 girls seem to have survived to adulthood. Bizarrely, five of these were comprised of the first five babies born.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The sixth survivor named as ‘Fred’ was born much later in 1854 and who grew up quite healthily to marry and create a family of his own.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;"><b>Fred and Mary Tyler.</b></span></h3></div>
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<span class="s1">Mary Roell was a Melton-born girl who married Frederick Tyler in the Summer of 1836. I believe that this family name is mis-spelled and should be ‘Rowell’, but I have gained no useful knowledge as to her family background.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Her first-born child was Mary, in 1836 and it is perhaps ironic that as a widow, she would be living with this particular daughter when she passed away at the age of 77 years.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mary Snr. is on record as having been employed as a laundry worker, but I’m sure that she spent more time working as a mother!</span></div><div class="p6" style="text-align: left;"><span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1">In 1841, the couple are recorded as living in Scalford Road, Melton, with Fred being shown as a publican and there were four children of the family present, but ten years later in 1851 he is shown as a watch-maker by occupation and there are now five children, with baby Mary Jane only just born in February of 1851.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A change of address tells us that they were now living in their better known address of Sage Cross Street, possibly then newly built.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A salient point to mention here is the fact that baby Mary Jane was by then her eleventh born child!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In 1861, the family is still in Sage Cross Street, next door to the builder’s yard of his friend, master mason, Robert Weaver and his family and it is likely that Samuel Weaver had even crafted the fine family tombstone for them by then.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It is interesting to also note that at least three of the Tyler children were by now in their 20’s and what’s more, there was by now the addition of a one year old, Arthur Tyler, who was recorded as a ‘grandson’.</span></div><div class="p6" style="text-align: left;"><span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1">By 1871, the by now convoluted Tyler family was still dwindling, with Fred and Mary still in charge there now remained at home only daughter Emma, now a spinster at 29, but almost certainly the mother of 10 years old Arthur who was also resident and shown as an ‘errand boy'.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> It is here that </span>I leave my detailed search of a family, formally unknown and irrelevant to me and of no particular personal interest apart from my gaining an insight into a world now passed and which seemed to have included so many such sad stories.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div><div class="p6" style="text-align: left;"><span class="s1"><br /></span></div><div class="p6" style="text-align: left;"><span class="s1">Fred Tyler passed away in 1880 at the age of 70, after sharing many of the tragic setbacks of his dear wife Mary, who was to die some eight years later in March 1888. This is the short tale of the </span>sad story behind the long forgotten siblings, n named for posterity on the face of the wonderful memorial stone which arrested my curiosity one rainy day. </div><div class="p6" style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="p6" style="text-align: left;">JM</div>
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<h1 style="text-align: center;"><span class="s1"><b>THE BURIAL GROUNDS OF MELTON MOWBRAY</b></span></h1>
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<span class="s1">It may be of interest to learn that the three main cemeteries of Melton Mowbray have each evolved from the basic conundrum of available space divided by the required demand from an increasing population. Simply resolved, when the hallowed ground comprising the limited curtilage of St Mary’s Church yard became no longer comfortably viable for the acceptance of more remains, suitable and available land was acquired from the garden area which then joined King street at the rear of the Generous Briton public house with Norman Street to the north of the town.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This was to be known as the ‘New Cemetery’.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">A brief knowledge of the history of the Nation’s religious problems tells us that Melton Mowbray was very much a part of the schism which grew to be<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>a rancorous separation of the long established church by a smaller dissenting community in various scattered guises. Dissent was very much a proactive part of the social scene, but suffice to comment for now that the split which existed at the time of this change of location, created a ‘them-and-us’ scenario with Dissenters being laid to rest only in the northern one third of the ground provided, whilst the larger ‘established’ number of ‘remainers’ of the high church, were allocated the remaining two-thirds.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">With the inevitable crowding out of the loyal deceased parishioners from the small graveyard of St Mary’s which abutted BurtonEnd, it was vital that somewhere be found to carry the ever increasing overflow. There were several acres of grassland behind the Church apparently doing little apart from providing one or two small allotments, but these were owned by wealthy outsiders then, so an alternative compromise on the grounds of cost was arranged when the Town Estate property was utilised off King Street. See the small maps<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>which clearly show the ‘new’ cemetery layouts.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The enforced removal from the original church grounds to the virgin land off King Street in that late Summer of 1845. was to prove not to be a permanent answer to the space problem, more a relatively short term solution and as the town expanded towards the end of the Victorian era, its useful days were to become numbered once more, when, in 1898, Meltonians would<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>celebrate the opening of a what was planned to be the ultimate answer to the burial problem when the new purpose-built facility in Thorpe Road was officially opened. though its future too, is now currently in doubt as the onward march of each generation continues to quickly fill up the existing allocations.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the meantime I present below, a short account of the opening in 1845 of the ‘new’ town cemetery in 1845, through the eyes of the irascible </span><span class="s4"><i>Leicester Chronicle</i></span><span class="s1"> which is bizarrely presented with an edge of humour in some sort of reference to a competitive newspaper.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1">(Reproduced from the </span><span class="s4"><i>Leicester Chronicle</i> of </span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Saturday 25 October 1845</span>)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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FIRST INTERMENT IN THE NEW CEMETERY, MELTON MOWBRAY.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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'Twill be buried with the grandeur it deserves;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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Whilst the great bell will be rung,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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" It died of sap among All its nerves “— Old Song.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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<span class="s1">On Friday, the 3rd inst., (says a correspondent,) the new burying ground in Melton was consecrated. In anticipation of this event, the ‘<i>Recorder’</i> had been ‘lying in state,’ ever since its demise, at the office of the Publisher, for its ‘nobility’ could not, even in dust, blend with the ignoble democrats over the wall ; and on Monday, the 20th inst., the ‘maiden sod’ was upturned, that its remains might be deposited in the silent tomb.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At present all that marks the mournfully interesting spot - the grave of Melton's hope - is a pasteboard tablet (in imitation of marble) bearing the following inscription;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">"HIC JACET<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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all that was mortal of<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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'<i>THE MELTON RECORDER</i>’ ,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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After a lingering and painful illness,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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it departed this life<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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the 14th day of July, 1845, Aged 20 weeks.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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Ye readers kind, who now lament,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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Be thankful while you weep.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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For I, who made you drowsy once.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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Myself am fallen asleep." </div>
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<span class="s1">But of course this will not be deemed a sufficient tribute to its ‘memory <i>dear</i>’ by its admirers. It is therefore proposed either to erect a statue to, or build a nest for, the ci-devant (former) Editor, testifying thereby that his herculean labours have not been wholly unappreciated. If the statue is decided upon, a premium will be offered to artists for designs.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Sir Francis Grant President R.A. (1803-1878) <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></h3>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Meanwhile, On a related note, referring to my recent presence at the cemetery, I might draw attention to the placement in this former cemetery - now not recognised as such in its present state - of the monument of one of our town’s most prominent former residents. By the way of a diversion from the theme of this article, I speak of the world-renowned artist and long term popular resident, Sir Francis Grant, President of the Royal Academy of Arts. A Scot, he was born in Edinburgh on the 18th January 1803. At first a student at Harrow on-the-Hill school as a young child, he was later educated in Edinburgh, but not at university nor did he achieving any significant degree. Arriving in Melton Mowbray, attracted by its reputation, he was to gain the friendship of two locally established artists, the well regarded Ferneley brothers.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Without formal training he would learn to paint and in later years, to advance this self-taught expertise to a standard beyond even his own wildest dreams. Francis grew up to become a formal portrait painter of some great renown, specialising mainly in the portraiture of many aristocratic and political figures of his time, including that of his greatest admirer, Queen Victoria.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">The Grant family home in London was at No 27 Sussex Place, Marylebone,</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s1">where he spent the early days of a spoiled life with his two brothers and from where, with an inheritance of more than £10,000 from his deceased father’s estate, he vowed to spend his early years spending it all, with a further promise to train later as a lawyer.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He achieved his first avowal to spend but did not quite make his visit to the halls of higher education, instead, wasting his precious moments in his great passion of hunting and gambling, pastimes which were to bring him inevitably to Melton Mowbray, where only the very best of this popular sport was to be achieved amongst some of the most important people in world society. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">At the age of 23 years he met his wife-to-be, Emily Farquharson who also hailed from Scotland and they were married in 1826, but sadly, in circumstances seemingly unknown, young Emily, without issue, was to die in 1828, it being less than two years after their nuptials and for a short time Francis was on his own again. Extremely handsome and reportedly most attractive to the ladies of his time, the young budding artist was not to mourn for too long before he was courting local lady, the highly sought and esteemed society beauty, Isabella Elizabeth Norman (1805-1894) a relative of the Manners family of Belvoir.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>On the 8th July, 1829, Melton Mowbray was to witness the wedding of all weddings at the Parish Church of St Mary’s, when Francis married for a second time. No children had emanated from his first marriage with Emily, but this new union was to eventually produce five girls and three boys born between 1830 and 1847.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I understand that one of these eight children is said to have been born out of wedlock, but I have as yet, no further details.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The Grants lived in the large house, then known simply as ‘The Lodge,’ today extant on the lower slope of Dalby Road almost opposite the swimming baths. In the 1930’s, the residence was renamed for some reason as ‘Dorian Lodge’, the name which it currently retains. When, as a popular and respected Associate of the esteemed <i>Royal Academy of Art</i> in London, he became their President in 1866 being simultaneously rewarded with a Knighthood from his Queen in recognition of his valuable and prolific services to art.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">With a very much dispersed family of children, we usually hear mainly of two or three of his young daughters who remained in Melton as their home town. Sir Francis and Dame Isabella had retained the family home at 27 Sussex Place in Marylebone, adjoining Regents Park and in the Spring of 1871 they are to be found there in residence with four house staff and a carriage in the driveway. His work in the capital city ensured a close connection with his art, but by now it was more with the business of administration and exhibitions. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Finally, as they say, ‘All good things come to an end’ and it was on the 5th day of October, 1878, when apparently without prior warning, Sir Francis Grant suffered what was described as a ‘massive’ fatal heart attack whilst resting at Dalby Road with his daughter, Daisy.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His funeral service at St Mary’s was widely reported as being one of the biggest turnouts ever seen in the town.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>THE NEW, NEW CEMETERY IN THORPE ROAD</b></span> </blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><b>‘APPOINTMENT OF CEMETERY SUPERINTENDENT</b></span> </blockquote>
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<span class="s1">At the meeting of the Local Board, on Wednesday evening, Mr Joseph Smith, of Nottingham Road, Melton, was appointed superintendent of the new Cemetery out of fourteen applicants for the post.’<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Grantham Journal, 3rd June, 1893.)</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">Towards the end of the 19th Century, it is apparent that the ‘new’ cemetery in King Street was now becoming as congested as that of the church of half a century before and it became once more the business of the local board, in partnership with representatives of the various denominations now proliferating in the town, to provide the extra space for a future generation of the residents. In 1893, land was acquired at the side of the Thorpe Road, then utilised as public allotment gardens, for the purpose of providing an up-to-date and ‘state-of-the-art’ new facility. The <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> of the day, described the opening event.</span></div>
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<span class="s5">OPENING OF THE NEW CEMETERY AT MELTON MOWBRAY.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></h3>
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<span class="s1">On Thursday morning last, the new Cemetery provided for the locals of the town of Melton (a full description of which appeared in these columns some few weeks ago) was formally opened after having been handed over to the Board at a special meeting on the previous evening. The proceedings were of the simplest character possible, the members of the Board meeting at the Lodge, where the Chairman (Mr. J. J. Fast), in a few words, “opened the place.” It had been suggested that a dedicatory service of some kind should be held to mark the event, the proposal being that the whole of the ministers in the town should take part in it, but no definite steps in this direction were not taken, and consequently nothing was done as regards any religious ceremony. The whole of the cemetery is open, i.e no pets it is consecrated as is the custom in many towns, according to the rites of the Church of England.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Though complete as regards its buildings and the laying out of the various intersecting pathways, the Cemetery as yet presents by no means a finished appearance, no trees or shrubs having been planted, as doubtless there will be in time, and the ground near the Chapel and also the lodge still bears traces of the “hands" of the builders. When the ornamentation of the place in these respects has been carried out it will look very pretty, and we think that Meltonians will have no reason to be dissatisfied with the new burial ground when it is got into proper order.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
<span class="s1">As stated, the Cemetery was opened in the most formal manner, with a special meeting of the Board being convened for ten o'clock that Thursday morning at the keeper's lodge. There were present— J. Fast (chairman of the Board), J. Glover, J. Gill, W. Willcox, G. N. Wing, J. Anderson, C. Callis, Rd. Barker (Clerk), and K. Jeeves (Surveyor). The grounds were formally inspected and they then, proceeding to the room where the ministers robe, the Chairman said they were there that day for the purpose of formally declaring the Cemetery open to the public, and he hoped they would all live long enough to hear the public say that they looked upon it as a boon. He would like to have expressed entire satisfaction with regard to one or two small matters which had been detected, he supposed there was nothing perfect in this world, and they must put up with things as they found them unless they had the power to remedy them. Mr. Willcox said that he thought it would a great boon to the town at large when the place was properly set out, and hoped it would not fall so heavily upon the ratepayers that some of their friends have imagined, because no doubt they would derive a considerable revenue from here on.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mr. Glover remarked that he had no wish to see the cemetery pay its way, which would only mean a heavy death-rate.—A slight discussion then ensued with reference to the letting of the plot of ground attached to the cemetery, and it was ultimately resolved to let it by tender.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
<span class="s1">The proceedings then terminated. The first funeral took place at four o'clock in the afternoon when the body of Mrs. Sophia Clarke, wife of Mr. Henry Clarke, refreshment-house keeper of Church-lane, Melton, was interred. The deceased, who was sixty-eight years of age, died on Monday after a somewhat lengthy<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>illness.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s1">Mrs Clarke was well known in the town and highly respected.</span><span class="s2"> </span><span class="s1">The obsequies were conducted by the Vicar (Rev. R. Blakeney) the first part of the service being held the Parish Church, and then completed at the grave-side where a short dedicatory prayer was said.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The funeral was witnessed by a large number of people. The <i>Parish Magazine</i> for June had announced that the custom which has hitherto prevailed of the portion of the burial service being read in the Parish Church, can still observed in every case in which it is desired.</span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">For more than a century the Thorpe Road Cemetery has served the people of Melton Mowbray. Its fine lodge at the main entrance still stands today, overlooking the large, manicured area of the various sections representing the religious followings of its occupants, which must now amount to many hundreds over time.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Little seems to have changed over these years, during which time the spare plot mentioned at its opening ceremony was indeed utilised for extra space.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There is talk today, in 2019, of the sale of the lodge house as a private dwelling and news of a possible end of term for the facilities so lovingly provided all those long years past. There is even a current<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>public discourse on the subject of bringing to an end the ancient practice of burial in the ground in civic open spaces, leaving no doubt, much contention amongst the religious groups who will no doubt need to organise alternative methods of the disposition of loved ones.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Watch this space!</span></div>
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com07V35PHXP+JV11.7490012 163.587146410.672066959234831 162.4885135875 12.82593544076517 164.6857792125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-28994792757498885132019-02-22T22:24:00.003+00:002023-07-07T02:01:32.832+01:00THE HOUSES<style type="text/css">
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<span class="s1"><b>MEMORIALS OF A GREAT MELTON FAMILY. 1793-1933</b></span></div>
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<b><span class="s2"></span>THE HOUSE</b></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 14px;">Relating to the life and times of one of the most iconic of Melton’s Lodges, ’</span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 14px;">The House’</i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 14px;">, which once stood in Sherrard Street and could be said to epitomise the life and times of a great period in the colourful history of the old market town of Melton Mowbray.</span></blockquote>
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<span class="s2"><b>REMEMBERING JOSIAH GILL (1874-1933)</b></span></div>
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<span class="s2">Yet another valued son of old Melton Mowbray who is now almost lost - or forgotten -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>in the mists of time was Josiah Gill, the son of a farmer of the same name who owned and worked his land in the very small village of Holwell, just to the north of the town.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A first-born child to the former Mary Ann Gilson of Twyford, he was soon to be one of seven siblings, but at the age of 26 years Josiah, articulate and well schooled locally as a child entered college as a student of pharmacy in London and as expected, he qualified as a dispensing chemist.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Returning to Melton at the end of this training, he set up in business as the proprietor of a combined chemist and grocery shop and in the summer of 1915 he married Kathleen Broxholme of Ashby-de-la- Zouch, though no children were born to this marriage.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A younger brother, Leonard Gill, was also to open a shop in Melton Mowbray which was remembered until quite recently as ‘Leonard Gill’s Hardware’ in the Market Place. Kathleen died in 1961 and Leonard was to follow 1965.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Both of the family businesses were to cease trading within the lifetime of the the following generation.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Josiah was greatly interested and personally involved in the social and political side of his home town, and county, especially in the matter of childrens’ education and in particular, the Sunday schools of which he was the local superintendent in which he frequently taught and preached. Politics interested him very much and he was at different times, Chairman of the Melton Mowbray Urban District Council and a prospective councillor for the Leicestershire County Council, making frequent attempts at election to that body - all unfortunately, abortive.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He did achieve success as a member for the Liberal Party in his town. As Second-in-Command of the local branch of the Salvation Army, Josiah was said to be thrilled to be deputed to meet and greet with General Booth and his wife who visited Melton to great fanfare and excitement in his ubiquitous open automobile, to speak at the Corn Exchange in Nottingham street in July of 1907.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His father sadly took his own life in 1917 at the age of 70 in 1917 and Josiah himself was to pass away in June, 1933 at the young age of 59 years.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Thankfully, much of his work is still discoverable.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">I have ‘rediscovered’ Josiah Gill in this new, twenty-first century by reason of the fact that amongst all of his many interests, like myself, he had a great passion for the social history of his beloved town and was, in between his business disciplines, to produce a number of scholarly and readable articles for occasional publication in the local press. I have no scruples about occasionally 'lifting' a whole piece of prose in the interests of presenting an accurate account and so, as an example of one of Josiah's valuable literary contributions, I have reproduced the following article, <i>in toto</i>, from </span><i style="text-align: center;">The Grantham Journal</i><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">of Saturday June 25th, 1932, a piece </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">which memorialises in the wonderful detail and style of the time the life and times of one of the most iconic of Melton’s many old hunting lodges, known simply as; ‘</span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The House’ </i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">in Sherrard Street.</span></div>
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<span class="s2"><b>'MEMORIALS OF A GREAT MELTON FAMILY<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>1793-1932.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s2"><b>‘The House’ and Other Famous Local Residences.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s2">'Sporting and artistic ghosts of a full century must have mingled their sighs when last week they watched the fall of the hammer which broke for ever the link between a distinguished family and the town of Melton Mowbray. With the departure of the venerable Miss Grant and the Hon. Mrs. Walsh, another of those old homesteads, which may be compendiously classified as Victorian, has closed its doors. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s2">The story of the Norman - Grant - Markham family in Melton commencing with the coming of Richard Norman, Esquire, who anon wedded the Lady Elizabeth Isabella Manners, daughter of the fourth Duke of Rutland, a popular nobleman in the days of Pitt and Fox.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Their two chief mansions have for their title of honour the definite article only, the single word ‘The’ rightly giving to these historic homesteads a stateliness and dignity all their own. In respect of Squire Norman’s newly-acquired properly, the simple grandeur of the appellative is considerably intensified, for in all probability ‘The House’ was the cradle, as it were, of the Melton Hunt. To it, so the records declare, came William Lambton when, in 1787, that pioneer Nimrod decided to make this town his headquarters and by so doing incidentally raised the place from<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>a townlet of small importance to the front rank among fashionable resorts.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s2">After about six years of being the hub and heart of the rising Hunt, the centre of ‘a most select company of noblemen and gentry of sporting celebrity,’ the fortunes of ‘The House’ appear to have changed. In the September assessment for the year 1793, the name of Lambton is erased, and that of ‘Norman’ substituted by pencil. The House was forthwith designated after the new owner and so remained until comparatively recent years when it unaccountably characterised itself having no prefix to its generic name.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">With all the dignity and amenity of a country house, planted in the very heart of the town, ‘Norman House’ continued for upwards of half a century, the abode of one of Melton’s most honoured families.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Lady Elizabeth Norman, generally known by the appellation of ‘The Good Lady Elizabeth,’ was a veritable ‘Lady Bountiful’ amongst her humbler neighbours.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The sense of ceaseless responsibility to poorer neighbours of the noblesse oblige, was strong in those days and during very many years Lady Elizabeth’s discerning sympathy and delicate generosity were the means of brightening the lives of scores of her fellow-citizens.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Her benevolence among the poor was unbounded; wherever there was sickness or distress her heart was open to sympathise and her hand to relieve. Often she was found at the bedside of the afflicted, reading portions of Holy Writ, and many times was she observed on her way to the house of some sick and almost destitute person, herself carrying the means to minister to their needs.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://wc.rootsweb.com/trees/117939/I066946/normandumeniljohn-straton/individual" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #0079a3; cursor: pointer; font-family: "Source Sans Pro", "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; outline-offset: 2px; outline: rgb(255, 142, 0) solid 2px; text-align: left;"> Norman Dumenil John Straton</a></div>
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<span class="s2">At her funeral, in 1852. hearse nor carriage was present, but members of the families of Manners, Grant, Straton and Forester, headed by the Marquis of Granby,</span><span class="s3"> </span><span class="s2">were numbered among the mourners who witnessed the interment by Orlando, afterwards fourth Lord Forester, in the almost forgotten God’s acre hidden away off King Street.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In relieving the poor, Lady Elizabeth not only fed them, but physicked them also.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Perhaps the most enduring memorial of this great lady is found in the form of a homely recipe, which even to-day survives as a magnificent proof of her benevolence and charity.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Within last few days enquiries have reached the town from Africa respecting the formula of this cheap, effective medicine, with a view of employing it among indigent natives of Umtata. Owing to lapse of time the appellation of dignity very often varied by the present generation from “Lady” to “Queen,” “Mother,” “Aunt,” “Mary” and even ‘Saint’ Elizabeth’s cough mixture.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Thus is paid unwittingly the highest compliment due to a good soul of bygone days.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">After the death of Mr. Norman, the beautiful font, with its exquisitely carved oak canopy, was erected to his memory in the Parish Church ‘As a token of love and affection by his widow and fourteen surviving children.’</span></div>
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<span class="s2">A romantic interest attaches to this house from its close connection with ‘the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom of high rank’ as Wraxall styles Mary Isabella, widow of His Excellency the Duke of Rutland' who died Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland in 1787.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Towards the close of her life, this magnificent Peeress - four times painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds - spent a portion of several winters at <i>The Poplars</i>, a house now almost lost in modern uses to which trade has converted it. Apropos of this circumstance, the Duchess not infrequently provided her immediate neighbours with one of those wonderful pieces of pomp and pageantry which in that era were so often associated with the most common-place events in life, for we have it on excellent authority that when this <i>Ex-Vicereine</i> paid a casual visit to her daughter, who resided on the opposite side of the street, she invariably chartered her four-in-hand pony phaeton, with its complement of liveried servants, by which in almost semi-regal state she traversed the few yards of thoroughfare.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span class="s2">But ‘The Duchess Rooms’ of today suggest to us a much more intimate and prolonged association with ‘The House’ than was conceded to its neighbour.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>That the Duchess and her dandy sons were great habitués of the place is certain.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In an interesting side-light on the social life of this mansion about a century ago, Mr. Brereton, the gossipy Headmaster of the School, was accustomed to give private instruction to the juvenile members of the Norman family.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>On one occasion, after exhibiting some experiments, this local diarist confided to his journal under date 1822, “The Duchess of Rutland is electrified.”</span><br />
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<span class="s2">The best features cf country-house life were again united during the long residence here of Colonel and Mrs. Markham and their numerous family.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Colonel Markham considerably enlarged the house and also beautified the gardens. Thenceforth the place became a most agreeable rendezvous for the junior members of the hunting families, where festivities and jollifications of merry young folk frequently took place.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">On December 12th, 1877, this mansion formed fitting background for a bridal cortege.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Surely no more splendid spectacle ever graced old St. Mary’s Church than the nuptials of Cecile Markham and Cecil Samuda when a great throng of the elite of the town, dressed in full hunting attire, honoured the ceremony by their presence. On emerging from the Church the bridal party, which included ten bridesmaids, each wearing a robin in her hat, passed under an avenue cf garlands supported by scarlet-coated huntsmen, among them the venerable Duke of Rutland.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Benevolence, like hunting, runs in families, and Mrs Markham inherited from her grandmother a keen sense of personal responsibility for her neighbours welfare. The House again became sacred to scores of townspeople who reverenced the character or benighted by the unostentatious charity so naturally bestowed by this hereditary, 'Lady bountiful.' Melton was stirred to its depth</span>, when, on July 20th, 1880, it heard of the death of this great-hearted lady, at the age of 44 years. This sad event left upon the mind of the writer an ineffaceable impression. Two days afterwards there took place the National Sunday school centenary celebration. The silencing of the bands and the dipping of the flags and banners, as the great procession, on its way to Church, passed The House, was a token of affection towards one, who, in many ways, had befriended the youth of the town.<br />
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The only other name which counts in the annals of this mansion during the past fifty years is that of John Adrian, Earl of Hopetoun, a Chamberlain to Queen Victoria and one of her favourite ministers. After leaving Melton, Lord Hopetoun achieved distinction by becoming first Governor-General of the Australian Commonwealth, and eventually received the honour of a Marquisate. Since the death of Mrs. Lionel Powell in 1929 ‘The House’ has stood forlorn and dismantled, awaiting, doubtless, only the coup de grâce it will one day receive at the builder’s hand. </div>
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<span class="s2">Few Melton houses carry more historical reminiscences than does the old homestead situated in illustrious obscurity on the southern slope of Mount Pleasant, the name of which we again crown with the definite article.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The earliest notices we possess of ‘The Lodge’ appear in the year 1870 when it functioned as the hunting-box of that popular patron of 'agricultural improvements’, the ninth Lord Kinnaird.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The place conjures up memories of many notable people to whom it has been let during the century.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the ’seventies, when in the tenancy of Lord and Lady Dupplin, King Edward added a distinctly interesting page to its history by a brief visit.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Again, the Americanisation of Melton may be said to have been set when James Gordon Bennett, son of the founder and himself the proprietor of the “New York Herald,” first took up his residence at this house during the absence of the Grants.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Mr. Moreton Frewen tells how on one occasion, he dined here with that great sportsman, ‘sitting next to a strange hard-bitten American who regarded Melton as a ‘lunatic asylum in pink coats.’<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“I did not catch my neighbour’s name and enquired of my host.” “Oh” he said. “ Its Stanley, a man I am sending to Africa to hunt up Livingstone.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Art, rather than rank, has, however, given to The Lodge its greatest distinction. For the one name of supreme importance and consequence in its annals is, of course, that of Sir Francis Grant.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Indeed there never was a place so associated with with the memory of one man as is this villa with the once popular President of the Royal Academy.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Sir Francis Grant came to Melton as far back as the early ‘thirties.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He began to paint and little by little, by dint of his genius and ability, he worked his way steadily onward until at length he gained a secure place among great English painters, ultimately reaching the highest position in his branch of art in this country. Three or four years before settling in Melton, young Grant commanded the notice of Sir Walter Scott in the following delightful entry in his ‘journal’ — ‘He is not going to be content with sitting at the bottom of his father’s table and passing the claret, but in giving himself heart and soul in following a delightful, though most arduous profession, and achieving in it a marked and independent position,’<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But the great Scotsman did not live long enough to see how brilliantly his foreshadowing of Grant’s career was realised.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Lady Dorothy Neville represents him as the only p</span>ainter she ever knew who painted by gaslight, and he was further described by a lady at Court in the words of Queen Victoria as “ the handsomest man and the most gifted artist in the three kingdoms.” Two pictures, representing the company at Melton during the reign of the ‘Sailor King’ hang in numerous houses of the town. ‘The Melton Breakfast’ alone, with its graceful strength and repose, is sufficient to make immortal the name of the painter who exhibited during his career not less than 253 works.<br />
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<span class="s2">As a rider, Sir Francis stood in the first rank. ‘Nimrod’ says of him;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“He possessed the combined arts of riding over not only fences and brooks, but now and then over horses and men in the morning and by delighting Society in the evening by the sallies of his wit and humour.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">It is not always that honours such as attended this young man’s funeral ceremony are so fitly bestowed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His friends seemed to have shared the feelings of the relatives of Lord Kelvin and Florence Nightingale, who alike declined the honour of a national burial which the nation, had it been permitted, would gladly have paid to the dead by interment in the central shrine of English Christendom.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Like his great predecessor, Sir. Godfrey Kneller, Sir Francis lies far from the bustle of the capital having found sepulture in the old cemetery in King Street among the hunting scenes he loved so well.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The funeral, on October 12th, 1878, marked perhaps, one of the most imposing and impressive obsequies ever witnessed in Melton.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Previous to the hour of burial, about three hundred members of the Royal Academy had luncheon at Norman House, and afterwards joined the funeral cortège. Nobles counted it an honour to support the pall, among the bearers being Lord Kinnaird, Mr. Cope R.A., the Duke of Rutland, Viscount Hardinge, the Marquis of Bristol, and other men of high consideration.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The public attended in great numbers and the ‘Archbishop of Society’ as the northern Primate was styled, took the service.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Right to the end, while still the home of his venerated daughter, the gentle presence of the great painter seemed to hover around the house he loved so well and which remained much as it was in his time, replete with beautiful productions and souvenirs.</span><br />
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<span class="s2">Among street scenes of rather less than fifty years ago, which we remember as little more than shadows, the little donkey carriage carrying lady Grant and accompanied by her majestic daughter, stands out real and tangible.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Daughter of Richard and Lady Elizabeth Norman, Lady Grant was born at “The House’ on May 25th, 1805.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>After the death of Sir Francis, Lady Grant made their winter hunting box her permanent home, until in the year 1893, she ‘shuttled off the mortal coil.’ Memories of this old and respected family are revived by inspecting the windows in the Norman Chapel of the Parish Church. Especially noteworthy is the beautiful memorial to the great artist, the subject of which is a full length figure of Saint Luke as a painter.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span class="s2">Despite the brisk, pleasant modernity of young Mr ‘Hammerdown the Fourth’ [the auctioneer] cheerfully stripping The Lodge of its historic souvenirs, one could not but view with genuine sadness the scene which marked not merely the end - as far as patrician associations are concerned - of two historic houses, but also deprived Melton of the last in direct succession of the fine old families which through five generations identified them with the life of the community.'</span></div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-76928699387810162032018-03-25T02:53:00.000+01:002019-02-22T01:44:55.390+00:00A GEORGIAN ROMANCE.<style type="text/css">
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<span class="s1">I confess that I don’t have a lot say about this advertisement, found buried in the Personal columns of the <i>Times</i> in the year 1822, but I do hope that the price the gentleman would have needed to pay for it justified whatever was its result! </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> ''</span>A Gentleman, a widower, with no encumbrance, will be happy to meet with a lady of good character, about 30 to 35, as a partner for life: the lady is expected to have some fortune, the whole of which may be settled on herself. The advertisers income is five hundred pounds a year, in an estate in the County of Middlesex, and a share in an established house, worth three to four hundred pounds a year;— from the little attention paid to a former application of this sort, the ladies must want confidence and must conclude, no man of property and good character need adopt this mode to get a wife, or think it done out of wantonness, to try the credulity of the sex they will not allow a man for want of connections, may be obliged to live single. — In answer to the first objection, I think that no man would set forth his income unless he could make it appear to the satisfaction of any Lady or her friends, and to be at the expense of advertising, to try the weakness of the sex, he thinks but a poor gratification; he cannot here set forth with propriety, his name of place of abode, as he does not think it very material which way two persons become acquainted, if they fancy each other and their sentiments agree; if therefore, any lady or friend of one disposed to alter her condition, will, from serious motives, address a line or two with particulars, an interviewer may be through the medium of the lady’s friend with out the lady’s friends herself knowing which way we became acquainted, prior to seeing the lady, will inform her friend my name and place of abode, and convince my attentions are sincere and honoured."</span></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-52833992479536030002018-02-07T00:59:00.002+00:002022-01-01T22:58:20.366+00:00THE 'GREAT FLYING RACE' COMES TO TOWN.<div class="p1">
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<span class="s1">A thrilling account of the exciting and chaotic hot summer’s day in Melton Mowbray in 1911, when many thousands of exuberant people turned out to witness for the very first time the ‘miracle’ of the heavier than air ‘flying machines,’ in flight together with their intrepid pilots.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> The occasion of man’s first sustained flight in an heavier than air, powered aeroplane is pretty well known to the world as being recorded on a beach at Kitty Hawk, South Carolina in 1903, by the Wright brothers of that place.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> The stuff of dreams of many young boys across the decades, </span>the veracity of this specific moment in time and the identities of the people involved in the event remains open to serious discussion to the present day and the actual truth is still argued openly and keenly. This is especially so amongst aviators and other interested parties in France and Britain where it is alleged, the achievement had already been made.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But whatever is the truth, it is a certainty that the achievement of manned flight was one by many leagues, one of the most iconic moments in the history of mankind, perhaps even more important than the first use of the wheel and more recently perhaps, the discovery of DNA.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Imagine the world which we inhabit today without the now commonplace availability of powered flight to speed us on our way!</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> When news of this momentous occasion on the other side of the Atlantic began to percolate amongst the similar-minded people of Europe, a fierce race was set in train by those in this country who heretofore had tinkered but yet merely dreamed, to create such a moment. The challenge was now on, not only to emulate or copy, but to improve on the performance in competition with each other and to add to the honing of their aviation knowledge.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> Great names are still remembered today of many of those fearless young men who experimented and frequently died at very young ages in the race to get ahead in the exciting new sport of aviation, even to the detriment of the recently new arrival of the internal combustion motor car.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But the detailed history of powered flight is not the central issue here which is<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>more the story of a group of young pioneers from around the world who, with the very generous sponsorship of the Daily Mail - who did more than most to encourage the advancement of what they strongly believed was to be the vanguard of world transport - set out to race their machines around the British Isles for a tempting and enormous prize of </span><span class="s4">£</span><span class="s1">10,000.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> Of local interest is a very early pioneer, who at an early age<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>during his off time as a clerk at the local gas works, was puzzling his neighbours with his desperate efforts at flying a ‘rag and sticks’ glider in nearby fields.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Samuel Summerfield, whose father ran a butcher’s shop in Melton, was on the front row at the Polo field in Brentingby, just outside of Melton Mowbray, to welcome these young dare-devil heroes.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It is said that the momentous event in the summer of 1911 was to stir in him a life-long passion for the art and pleasure of flying.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><span class="s3">THE DAY THAT ‘FLYING MACHINES’ VISITED MELTON MOWBRAY</span></div>
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<span class="s1">It was a truly enthralling and momentous day in the history of the small market town of Melton Mowbray on Monday 24</span><span class="s5"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> July 1911, when a huge gathering of people turned out to witness and be amazed at, their first sighting of the new transport invention of the age, the aeroplane - a flying machine which could carry a man.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Never before had the people of the town and its surrounding areas occasioned the ‘miracle’ of an aeroplane in flight, not to mention the actual taking off or landing of one of these heavier than air machines.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At first light on this historic day, so many children had gathered at the various locations, that the majority of the local schools sought to lock the doors for the day due to a reported ‘lack of custom.’<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span class="s1">1911 was Coronation year in England and King Edward’s oldest<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>son, George had come to the throne on the 22</span><span class="s5"><sup>nd</sup></span><span class="s1"> June, to replace his father.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The era of horse-drawn transport was drawing to a close and with the increased acceptance and utilisation of the internal combustion engine, ‘motoring’ was rapidly becoming the new way of traversing the land.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Forward thinking men were feverishly seeking to improve and utilise this efficient power source and this was especially so with a mind to the new and exciting art of flying a heavier-than-air machine, high above the land surface. After decades of experimentation and at the sad cost of many young lives, the inaugural flight of Wilbur and Orville Wright in America in 1903, was to establish for once and for all the certainty of mans’ ability to fly.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Now fully accepted as a reality, it was in that first decade of the 20th Century, that great advances were to be<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>made by the aviation pioneers towards improving the science.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In England, the London Daily Mail newspaper which probably did more for the advance of aviation in Britain than any other source of it’s time, announced early in 1911 that a prize of </span><span class="s4">£</span><span class="s1">10,000, (a very large sum of money!) was on offer to the flyer who could complete, in his aeroplane of choice, a 1,010 miles (1,625 km) air circuit in the quickest time. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In an age of daring and often reckless endeavour to achieve the ‘unknown’, the ‘Circuit of Britain’ would be an enormous test of skill and endurance for both the pilots and their machines. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was also then, almost a blind journey, with machines lacking any type of refined instrumentation which was still to be invented and the distance proposed, more than anything yet attempted by most. The route, commencing at the famous Brooklands race track in Surrey, would take the ‘daring young men’ - and one or two not so young! - north to Edinburgh, then return west to Glasgow, south down to Bristol in the west and on to the finish at Hendon Aerodrome in north London.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A total of thirty competitors initially registered their entry forms with the British Aero Club and the closely scrutinised news of the pending spectacle by radio and newsprint spread rapidly across the country incurring the resultant interest and excitement of the bulk of a general absorbed public which would soon grow to enormous proportions as the day approached.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span class="s3"></span></div>
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<span class="s1">I seems that just about everyone in the England and Scotland, especially those people over whose land the airborne cavalcade was likely to pass, was eager to see these ‘flying machines’ for themselves and as a consequence of this intense publicity, great problems were encountered with the arrival of thousands of excited sightseers, men, women and children alike, at the Brooklands Race Circuit long before the official start of the race on Saturday, 22</span><span class="s5"><sup>nd</sup></span><span class="s1"> July. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>By the morning of one of the hottest ever recorded summers, on a sweltering and humid day, there were at least nine of the thirty competitors who had already scratched from the race due to a number of recent deaths, broken bones and other injuries, not to mention mechanical failures to the experimental home-made machines, (Perhaps there were also second thoughts on the enormity of the task ahead!), but the many thousands of onlookers, seemingly oblivious to this minor setback and refusing to leave,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>continued to throng the area for a first glimpse of the futuristic machines and their brave pilots.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">A great disappointment was to increase as the predicted start of the race was continually delayed due to excessive turbulence which was created by the hot and humid temperature which reached well into the nineties and it is a recorded fact that later that week, the temperature in London would reach 97 degrees Fahrenheit, the highest recorded for the previous 70 years.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>To great excitement and much noise amongst those assembled, the temperature lowered and around 4pm the competitors, in ten minutes intervals, started their engines and commenced their individual take-off , each one to a mighty roar of encouragement and appreciation from the tens of thousands of sweltering spectators by now assembled.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Their destination for this short, initial stage was the new Hendon airfield some 17 miles distant, over the River Thames to the north.</span></div>
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<span class="s3">STAGE TWO - TO EDINBURGH VIA MELTON MOWBRAY.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The second stage of the race, which by now contained just 17 competitors, was due to commence from Hendon in the cooler atmosphere of first light on Monday 24th July, following a religious rest-day on the Sunday. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>By the time this tense moment arrived, it seems that very few people living along the 364 miles, straight-line route to Edinburgh would have been<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>unaware of this momentous red-letter day in aviation history and according to local reports, a massive movement of people, the like of which had never been seen gathered together before, began to assemble in the Melton Mowbray area which was almost directly under the proposed flight path. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At roughly 100 miles along the route and a couple of miles out of the town, an emergency landing area had been prepared at the Brentingby Polo Ground for the use of the competitors and their teams. Food, rest, toilets and breakdown assistance was available to those who wished to use it, but this was not a compulsory stop and any time spent would go on the clock. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">The weather at daybreak in the Melton area, as across the rest of the country, was hazy with a low hanging mist hanging around the tree tops, creating patches of restricted visibility both for the competitors above and the watchers spread out below them. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But these conditions were not to last and they would certainly not put a damper on what would turn out to be one of the most remarkable and unforgettable days in the Town’s history.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The very popular film of the 1960s <i>“Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines”</i> was clearly based on the exploits of these valiant Edwardians, but of almost forgotten local interest is the impact the event had at the time on the people of Melton Mowbray and the influence it had on those who would decide later to become involved in this new ‘pastime’.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The Melton Times of 1911 is mysteriously missing from all archives, but luckily, the reporter from the neighbouring Grantham Journal was there with his pencil and on the 29</span><span class="s5"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> July 1911, his newspaper devoted several column inches to the exciting events of the day and how they related to the local scene.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A dependable representation of the days proceedings, plus a true flavour of his view ‘in situ’ can only be properly achieved by reproducing his report verbatim.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The use of the paragraph seems not have been in vogue at the time (perhaps in the interest of space) and the quaint words and punctuation, now long disused, add interest and some amusement to the sense of period in the piece.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s3">THE GRANTHAM JOURNAL, SATURDAY, JULY 29, 1911</span></div>
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<span class="s1">THE GREAT FLYING RACE. ----- The unexampled interest evinced throughout Great Britain, nay, from end to end of Europe, in the great aeroplane race which took place during this week, for the prize of </span><span class="s7">£</span><span class="s1">10,000, offered by the Daily Mail, was manifested to a remarkable degree in Grantham and the neighbourhood.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Here, in common with the rest of the world, we had talked about and speculated on the probable chances of the respective competitors.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the few days preceding the great event enthusiasm increased ten-fold and on Sunday large numbers of people declared their intention of being out on Monday morning, despite the early hour, if only to catch a glimpse of one or more of the aerial voyagers on their way from Hendon to Harrogate, the second stage of the race.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The scene in the streets in the “wee small hours” of Monday was certainly remarkable, and was probably without parallel in the history of the borough, as, indeed, was the occasion which gave rise to such an unwonted display of enthusiasm.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>As early as four o’clock one was awakened by motor cars speeding on their way to points of vantage, the majority favouring Melton Mowbray and Saxby, where, as events proved, a great deal of the race was seen.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At the latter place, it is a fact that there were assembled no less than a thousand cycles and some three hundred motor-cars, whilst, of course, the crowd was largely swelled by pedestrians.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Shortly after 4 o’clock the streets were alive with people, and, judging by the scheduled times, it was generally anticipated that the flying machines would be in the neighbourhood by half-past five.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The town itself was indicated on the Daily Mail map as a likely place from which the racing men might be seen, but this proved not to be the case, and the crowds of people who waited long and expectantly in the streets were doomed to disappointment.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>So were those – and there were several hundreds – who “footed” it further afield, and foregathered on Hall’s Hill or at Harrowby.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A mist obscured the view, but even had the atmosphere been clear their chances of seeing an aeroplane, in the light of subsequent events, were remote.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Motorists and cyclists, of course, had the advantage of being able to travel further afield.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Bottesford,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Redmile, and Bingham attracted a good many from here, and they saw several of the competitors, but most people probably journeyed to Waltham and beyond.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The exodus from the town in that direction certainly seemed much greater than in any other.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Motorists sped along Harlaxton-road in rapid succession, and in their dusty wake followed streams of cyclists.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>All classes were there -- gentry, tradesmen, professional men, and artisans – all imbued with the one idea – to see the sight of a lifetime.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>With but one or two exceptions the motors went on to Melton Mowbray, but for the rest, the hill overlooking Waltham village, and from which there is an extensive view, was considered a desirable point of vantage, and here fully a hundred people from Grantham were assembled, expectantly scanning the horizon.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Several were intrepid enough to walk the long distance to Croxton, and it was unfortunate that their ardour went unrewarded.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was about 5.30 that the first airship was seen travelling due north from the direction of Melton Mowbray.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was several miles from Waltham, but the winged structure could be plainly seen as it glided swiftly from view.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A second aeroplane was seen in the locality about 6.15, and, with the idea of getting a better view of succeeding flyers, many of the spectators now journeyed on towards Melton Mowbray, whilst the remainder shortly afterwards returned to Grantham.</span></div>
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<span class="s8"></span><span class="s1">A later report in the same newspaper referred more specifically to events in the town..</span></div>
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<span class="s1">HOW THE AEROPLANE RACE WAS SEEN</span></div>
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<span class="s1">IN THE MELTON DISTRICT.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">TREMENDOUS CROWDS.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">FOUR DESCENTS PROVIDE A THRILLING SIGHT.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">PIZEY’S UNFORTUNATE PLIGHT.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The great interest shown in the Circuit of Britain Aeroplane Race which commenced on Saturday and finished on Wednesday with Mr “Beaumont,” the racing name of Lieut. Conneau, of the French Navy, the winner of the </span><span class="s7">£</span><span class="s1">10,000 prize offered by the Daily Mail, culminated, so far as the Melton district, over which the “course” lay, was concerned, in a most extraordinary display of enthusiasm and admiration on Monday.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>From vantage points a mile or two out of the town, not only was the unique and thrilling spectacle witnessed of airmen passing overhead on their way to Harrogate in the second section of the contest, but in no less than four instances competitors came to the ground, for renewal of petrol or other instances.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Except at Hendon on Saturday, when the first section from Brooklands was completed, at no other place throughout the whole circuit did four aeroplanes descend in one district, and, whatever the feelings of the pilots themselves might be in having to make compulsory descents, it was a sight which those who witnessed it had never seen before, and it may be many a day before they do so again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Altogether, on Monday, ten of the seventeen competitors who set out from Hendon, either passed over or reached the vicinity (one who came down being unfortunately, unable to make further progress), and, it may be convenient to give their names here in the order in which they were seen: - 1. No.9, Jules V</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">drine, Morane – Borel Monoplane; 2. Andr</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1"> Beaumont, Bl</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">riot Monoplane; 3. No. 24, Gustav W. Hamel, Bl</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">riot Monoplane; 4. No. 14, James Valentine, Deperdousin Monoplane; 5. No. 20, S.F. Cody, Cody Biplane; 6. No. 19, C. Howard Pixton, Bristol Biplane;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>7. No. 17.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>C.P. Pizey, Bristol Biplane; 8. No. 12, Lieutenant R.A. Cammell R.E., Bl</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">riot Monoplane; 9. No. 23, Oliver de Montalent, Br</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">guet Biplane; 10. Lieutenant H.R.P. Reynolds, R.E., Howard Wright Biplane.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the early hours of Tuesday morning, No. 2,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>H.J.D. Astley, on a Birdling Monoplane, flew over the district.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The fact that arrangements had been made with the Melton Mowbray Polo Club for the use of their splendid ground at Brentingby, two and a half miles out of the town, for some of the airmen to descend to replenish their petrol supply, made that particular vicinity the chief point of assembly for those who wished to witness the progress of the contest, and no better situation could have been selected.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The polo enclosure itself, as well as the immediate rising ground towards Wyfordby, just off the Saxby Road, was invaded by sightseers numbering several thousands, and several of the aeroplanes passed directly over their heads, while those which descended not only enabled everyone almost to see this particular feat accomplished, but also gave the opportunity for a close inspection of the wonderful machines.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>From daybreak the town of Melton was alive with passing motor-cars, motor cycles, “safeties,” and brakes, which brought contingents from Leicester and the surrounding districts, who were making their way to Brentingby, and the scene of the Saxby Road from four o’clock to six was one which in some respects eclipsed the familiar sight of the Burton Road on the occasion of the annual steeplechases at Burton Flats.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The road was simply blocked with both wheel and foot traffic, the town of Melton itself, of course, making up the large proportion of it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was certainly ...</span></div>
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<span class="s1">AN UNPRECEDENTED SCENE</span></div>
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<span class="s1">... for so early an hour, and it is safe to say that to the great majority it was a very unusual time to be “abroad.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Of motor cyclists there was an extraordinary number, and motor-cars were to be numbered by the score.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There must have been thousands of people all told, all badly smitten with “aeroplane fever,” and all discussing what might or might not be seen.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>While many hundreds proceeded down to Brentingby and over the railway level-crossing on the polo ground, as many hundreds wended their steps about another half-mile further to the Wyfordby turn, and the field through which the road passes to the latter village was simply alive with people. Those who assembled here certainly had the advantage for a start, for a distance of some miles could be seen in all directions, and two of the first three airmen passed directly over their heads, while the second one was also plainly visible.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Later it came to the turn of the crowds on the polo grounds to have their anticipations and wishes fulfilled, by the descent of three competitors in their midst, at varying intervals, and, needless to say, the excitement was tremendous, and had either of the three accomplished something definite in the contest they could not have had a more enthusiastic reception.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>When it was seen from the Wyfordby Hill Top that a descent was being made, there was a regular cross-country scramble to the polo ground, half a mile away, and most of those negotiated the various obstacles that came across their path, saw the first aviator ascend, and did not leave the ground again until for good. It may be mentioned here that the Polo Club made a charge for admission to the enclosure, and what with the large crowd and rows of motor cars & co., it looked a typical race meeting, that is, of course, in an equine sense.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>One section of the large, level playing area had been roped off and the spectators were supposed to keep behind them, but on the arrival of the airmen, each after a most graceful descent, their enthusiasm outdid all prevention, and the policemen on duty were powerless to prevent the crowd breaking into the centre of the ground, and ...</span></div>
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<span class="s1">EACH COMPETITOR AS HE ARRIVED</span></div>
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<span class="s1">... was fairly mobbed in a display of delight and wonderment.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Several officials of the Leicestershire Aero Club were present, and, with members of the Polo Club, saw to it that the arrangements made, as far as they could supervise them, were as they should be.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A large repairing motor belonging to the British and Colonial Aeroplane Company, Ltd., of Bristol, which had no less than seven aeroplanes entered in the race, was present and a large supply of petrol supplied by local firms was on the ground.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the centre of the field was a large white cross as a guide to the fliers where to alight and at the Brentingby end of the field was kindled a fire which gave off dense white smoke, also intended to attract the attention of the aviators who desired to descend.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The weather before the sun got up was very foggy, especially in the valley, and the airmen had some difficulty during this part of the journey in discerning the landscape at all, and had largely to rely on their maps, their compasses, and their judgement to guide them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was considerably after six o’clock before the air became really clear, though the sky itself, to those on terra firma, was visible above the haze and enabled them to see the aviators, if the latter could not properly discern them. For the younger generation the occasion was one which, in particular, will stamp itself on the memory, and hundreds of children were, of course, among the throng, as exuberant and excited as the rest.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>No doubt they had promised to be “back in time for school,” but, as a matter of fact, they were not, and so small a number of scholars did present themselves at nine o’clock that it was decided to close the Schools for the day.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Naturally, there were other points of vantage in the neighbourhood beside those just dealt with from which a fine view of the airmen could be obtained on the north side of Melton, and these had a considerable quota of spectators, and those on the Scalford-road had the opportunity of witnessing a descent, in this case, compulsorily, Hamel, one of the “favourites” for the race, coming down owing to engine trouble and landing in what he described as a “two-foot field.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was, of course, of slightly larger dimensions than that, but his ascent from a very circumscribed space was probably the most thrilling of all.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">When one arrived at the spot thought to be the best for viewing the competitors (alluding more particularly to the Brentingby side) one’s eyes and thoughts naturally turned upwards, and in the direction from which the aviators might be expected to appear. It was anticipated that, barring accidents, the leading man might pass over the vicinity between five and six o’clock, and from five o’clock not only naked eyes, but dozens of field glasses and telescopes were directed to the south and south-east.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was just three minutes to half-past five when a steady floating object, no larger than the smallest of small birds, was observed, and the shout of, “here’s one coming,” caused everyone to look in the same direction.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Gradually, slowly it almost seemed, the object in question assumed a shape that left no doubt it was the first of the flyers, and exactly at 5.30 a monoplane which by the aid of glasses could easily be distinguished by ‘the number’’ on each side of the plane as “9,” passed straight over the heads of the people assembled in the field over the Wyfordby hill-top.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This, from the reference, was seen to be the number of M Jules V</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">drine’s aeroplane, and it’s progress was instantly watched, and a loud cheer was raised, as it went by “the Broom” towards Scalford.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The hum of the motor could be heard very distinctly, and the machine appeared to be gliding along (possibly at fifty or sixty miles an hour) without the slightest trouble; in fact under perfect control.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It proceeded some miles, but was not out of range, when, suddenly as it were, at 5.32, a second aeroplane came into view through the haze which still hung over the horizon.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There were thus two in sight at once, and the second one appeared to be “taking a corner” off from the first, with a line nearer Freeby than the leading one had done.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Although it’s number could not be ascertained, there was no doubt in anybody’s mind but that this was M. Beaumont on his Bl</span><span class="s7">é</span><span class="s1">riot Monoplane and he continued on an evidently stern chase after his fellow-countryman.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At 5.35 the now fully recognised “song” of the aeroplane motor again broke on the air, and, flying at a very low altitude, there next sailed over the hill-top, “No. 24” the figures being so plain that no glasses were needed to distinguish them. It came to everybody’s mind that the airman, Mr Hamel, had some reason for being so low; not more than two hundred feet high it was conjectured, and this surmise proved to be correct.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Had he known, probably he would have brought his aeroplane to earth on the polo ground, half a mile away on his left, but he held a line which took him almost ...</span></div>
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<span class="s1">... to descend in a small field between the Great Northern<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Railway and the Isolation Hospital, of which more anon. Recognised as the first Englishman to cross over, he was accorded a particular hearty cheer, which could hardly have failed to penetrate the whirr of his motor.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Then came quite a lull, for one had by now begun to expect seeing aeroplanes every two or three minutes.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>However, suddenly there was described going nearly over the town of Melton itself, going “entirely on it’s own,” an aeroplane, whose white tail flashed in the sunlight over the mist below and which proved to be Mr Valentines monoplane.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He was much too far off for any demonstration to be made, but the huge crowds above and below Brentingby were on exceedingly good terms with themselves, and only waited now for the first descent to be made that they could witness.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They had not very long to wait, for a minute or two after six o’clock a “speck” appeared on the horizon over the hill between Whissendine and Old Dalby, and the biplane which it in a few seconds resolved itself into was evidently for “business” on the polo ground.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>As it came almost in a direct line for the assembled crowd behind the ropes, it perceptively slackened speed, and then took a delightful bird-like swerve and the next minute Mr. C. Howard Pixton’s “Bumble Bee” planed beautifully on to the level turf and with scarcely a tremor of the frame upon the running wheels touching the turf, it ran a dozen or so yards, and came to a complete standstill.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The whole thing had looked so simple and natural-like in it’s execution that for a moment or two everyone appeared lost in astonishment, but when the pilot himself, without any loss of time, sprang from his seat, which by the way, had a Union Jack cushion at the back of it, their wonderment gave way to ...</span></div>
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<span class="s1">... and everyone rushed across the intervening ground to not only congratulate the pilot himself, but, as far as was possible, to examine the marvellous piece of mechanism which had dropped into their midst from a point between eighty and ninety miles away. Mr Pixton readily acknowledged the greetings, but there was no time to be lost, and while every body who could get anywhere close enough to admire the aeroplane itself did so, the mechanics of the Bristol firm, whose machine it was, quickly replenished the fuel tanks, and saw to it that everything was in order for the safe continuation of the fateful flight.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In the meanwhile a sudden inspiration appeared to seize those within the immediate proximity of the plane, and that was to inscribe their names, and in many instances addresses, on the canvas, and the aeroplane, when it left again, must have carried quite a lot of “lead” away with it in addition to it’s ordinary weight.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>By twenty minutes past six all was in readiness for Mr Pixton to resume his journey, and after a trial spin along the ground, apparently to test the engine, the aeroplane, with no seeming effort, soared into the air once more, and making a circle of the ground, was in a minute or two lost to sight beyond the trees, though the motor sounds could be heard for some for some time as the pilot got under weigh.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was rumoured that another aeroplane might be expected to alight on the ground in twenty minutes time, and this proved to be so far correct that towards seven o’clock the machine driven by Mr C.P. Pizey, also a “Bristol,” could be seen in the distance, though coming from the direction of Saxby Station.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It appears that Mr Pizey, on reaching Oakham, fancied he was at Melton, and, in searching around for a landing place, twice or thrice made a circuit of the Rutland county town, and then, finding he had mistaken the place, set off for Melton.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>With the fog by now all cleared off, Mr Pizey sighted the polo ground a mile or two away and bore straight for it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He came over the trees by the level-crossing, and, like his predecessor ...</span></div>
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<span class="s1">...EFFECTED A “LANDING”...</span></div>
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<span class="s1">... which quite took the heart of the spectators, stopping plump in the middle of the field.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Rousing cheers had been given all the time the aviator had been within hailing distance, and these were smilingly acknowledged by Mr Pizey upon descending from his “perch,” which also had a Union Jack cushion at the back.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Whether it was a cigarette or a cup of tea which first reached his lips we will not venture to say, but both were cordially welcome.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It transpired that one of Mr Pizey’s reason’s for coming down was engine trouble, that great bane of all aviators, and, as events proved, this turned out to be so serious that not only was he unable to continue his flight there and then, but it eventually involved the practical destruction of the biplane, and put him out of the race altogether.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>When Mr Pizey had got all in readiness for a start, considerable trouble was experienced in getting the engine going, and when this was succeeded in the pilot did not attempt anything more than a run the length of the polo playing piece.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He had two more attempts before venturing to lift the machine into the air, and then he had not risen more than twenty or thirty feet before he hurriedly came down again, and before he could bring it to a standstill on the ground itself, the wheels and lower supports had crashed over the board which makes the polo “touchline” and the concussion caused the upper plane to catch a propellor blade and rip it. It was then announced that Mr Pizey would not attempt to start again without new parts to the engines being put in, and, as these had to be obtained from Bristol, a resumption of the flight was not possible before late in the afternoon in any case.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The disappointment naturally experienced by the aviator himself was shared by the crowd, a large section of whom watched the partial dismantling of the machine with sympathetic interest. The propellors, it was noticed, were constructed of wood, presumably of teak and highly polished. Then ensued a considerable period of quiescence for the spectators and many of those who had journeyed from Leicester and other places took their departure.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It should be stated that Mr. Cody, who, as previously stated, passed seventh in order over the district, took a course almost directly over Holwell Works, where his number could be plainly distinguished, but he was not visible to those assembled at Brentingby.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The time was about six o’clock.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At a quarter to nine o’clock from a south-easterly direction Lieut. Cammell flew at a great height straight across the centre of the polo ground, and it was about this time the news was received by the officials at Brentingby that Mr Hamel had had to come down in a field in the occupation of Mr Freeborough, off the Scalford Road between the town of Melton and the isolation Hospital.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He had, of course, then been down over three hours in a vain endeavour to put things right; but his own mechanics, expecting him to alight at Mansfield, had preceded there, and were, of course, anxiously awaiting him.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At length, he motored over to Brentingby, and explained that he had broken an inlet valve, and at once a new one was placed at his disposal by the Bristol Company, and not only that, but Mr Pizey, being unable to “help himself” for the time being, went back with Mr Hamel to his damaged machine to assist in putting it right.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This action was a subject of considerable comment, and showed that in spite of the great rivalry a race for such a prize must have engendered still one competitor was quite willing to come to the assistance of another in the hour of need.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Of course, Mr Hamel had been seen to come down in the field, and very soon several hundred people had congregated round his machine, which being of the monoplane type, differed very considerably from those which descended at Brentingby.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>By ten o’clock, the necessary repairs to Mr Hamel’s machine had been completed, and eight minutes later he was once more ready to set our upon his big undertaking. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Before he left Mr. F. R. Carter the superintendent of the G.N. and L. and N.W. Joint Railway, who had provided men, ropes etc., for Mr Hamel’s accommodation, wished the aviator, on behalf of the spectators, all good luck on his journey, and called for three cheers, which were given with rousing effect.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mr Hamel having started his engine gave the signal for “let go” to those who were at the rear and almost instantly the machine took to the air, and in a few minutes was out of sight.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The aeroplane was not far from the hedge, and Mr Hamel took some little risk in getting off as he did, but the exigencies of the situation demanded it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It is of interest to know that Mr Hamel is only twenty-three years of age.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>To return to the aerodrome, one might almost call it, at Brentingby after the passing of Lieut. Cammell shortly before nine o’clock, the next aerial visitor was M. Olivier de Montalent, who arrived shortly before eleven o’clock and alighted, his descent being quite as cleverly accomplished as those before. There still remained a large number of people on the ground, and M. de Montalent was given a hearty reception.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Upon wishing to go up again, the Frenchman found that the air currents were not to his liking, and he decided to wait until later in the day.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He eventually made a start at 4.13 p.m., and got away in brilliant fashion, and, when “fairly on the wing” travelled very rapidly.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Meanwhile, just after two o’clock Mr C.T. Weyman, the American aviator, on his Nieuport Monoplane, soared over the district, and he, too, was evidently bent on making up for lost time.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mr Pizey, the stranded airman at Brentingby, had hopes of getting away early in the afternoon, but found the injuries to his machine such that it was seven 0’clock before he could essay another flight.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It appears the chief cause of the trouble was the denting of one of the cylinders of the propellor.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At thirteen minutes past seven he made an attempt to resume his flight to Harrogate, but the machine refused to rise properly, and, after a short circuit, came down with an alarming crash on to the polo ground again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This time the biplane was seriously damaged, the propeller being smashed off, and the chassis stanchions and several ribs broken.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was then too late to attempt to remedy the defects, and the machine was left on the ground all night.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At a quarter to eight the same evening, Lieut. Reynolds, who did not start from Hendon until after 6 p.m., went over the east end of the town, and this was the last of the aviators to pass over the district that night.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Between five and six o’clock, however, on Tuesday morning, Mr H.J.D. Astley, and his Birdling Monoplane, who had been fogbound at Irthlingborough, near Kettering, was reported by railway officials to have gone over, and he reached Harrogate at 7.35.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">On Tuesday evening, Pizey had once more got his damaged machine put right, and again attempted his flight, but unfortunately without success.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He rose a short distance from the ground and cleared the hedge on the opposite side of the polo ground to the railway, but he had only gone a short distance when down crashed the aeroplane again, this time damaged in such a manner that Mr Pizey decided to retire from the contest.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He himself was unhurt, and explained that his engine, which had given so much trouble, was affected by the weather.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">AFTERTHOUGHTS</span></h3>
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<span class="s1">The iconic moment of the first sighting of powered flight in Melton Mowbray is perhaps mere happenstance today after<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>more than a century has been and gone.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Those daring young men did move on to much greater things, at least those who were not tragically killed in the effort, as many were, but the intense dedication of the many intrepid men and women who continued to come forward and participate in the cause, have provided us with the luxurious and speedy air transport that we so take for granted today.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">I have touched briefly in passing upon the contributions of a young Sam Summerfield, the local butcher’s son whose dreams came to fruition in the small wooden shed at the back of his dad’s shop in Nottingham Street, leading to his meanderings about the town with his cumbersome glider strapped to a pedal cycle whilst on his way to the fields to practice, did much to draw me in the direction of the exciting events of 1911.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I learned that he was one of the very first holders of an official Royal Aero Club certificate and who was later to train some of the wonderful pilots of the Royal Flying Corps in preparation for the exploits of the Great War of 1914. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sam was a local hero whose existence is hardly known today in his home town.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>100 years later, we should perhaps be remembering and giving thanks for his gift to the country and for the pride vested in the small market town in which he was raised.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The <i>Leicester Chronicle</i>, as early as 1908, some three years before the time of the great air race as described, was already opining about the advent of manned flight and its potential value to mankind.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The following snippet is a tongue-in-cheek example of the views then being expressed:</span></div>
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<span class="s1">(From the <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> -</span><span class="s10"> Saturday 18 July 1908)</span><br />
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<span class="s1"><b>‘AEROPLANES AS CHEAP AS BICYCLES.’</b></span></h3>
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<span class="s1"> ‘The romantic days when people had visions of constructing a wonderful secret flying machine in the privacy of the backyard, and selling at some fabulous sum to the Government or a foreign Power, have long gone by, says <i>Mr Valentia Steer</i> in an article on aeroplanes in the July [1908] number of <i>Cassell’s Magazine</i>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>‘Given sufficient money for aeroplanes at present are costly things, any engineer who has studied the subject at all could make an aeroplane that could fly.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>What the world is waiting for is the adaptation of the gyronome or some other mechanical device that will prevent the aeroplane from ’turning turtle’ when in the air.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It must be remembered that ten years ago the motor car was practically unknown, five years ago it was still a curiosity.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Experts declare that flying machine development has proceeded faster than that of motor cars in their infancy.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>If this state of progress is maintained, in another decade we shall have realised the recent prophesy of Colonel Fullerton R. E. that in a few years<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>aeroplanes will be as cheap as bicycles and all our pleas, all our political frontiers and all our tariff arrangements will have to be re-arranged, for Great Britain will no longer be an island.’</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><u>© John McQuaid 2018</u></span><br />
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<u>See a wonderful archive of photographs from the race at <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93UdIgU3_sA"><span style="color: blue;">this site:</span></a></u></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-75134225332920054832017-12-02T00:45:00.002+00:002021-01-05T17:32:17.697+00:00MUCKY LANE<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">CIVIC PRIDE</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">(My pictures have all been electronically stolen by Google!)</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">I wrote this small article on my blog some time ago now, but I have brought it up to date for the benefit of my local readers specifically, who might well know of where I am talking.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Written a little tongue-in-cheek perhaps, I hope that it fits into the local discussion and is relevant.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Do you happen to know how many named streets there are in Melton Mowbray? Well officially, at today's date, [2013] there are 699 and I must confess that it is a much larger number than I would have ever dreamt of. But, hold the front page, I have just discovered that there are now 700 and that that civic milestone was passed recently with the unheralded appearance of a brand new, shiny plate which proudly displays the name, 'Mucky Lane' near to the entrance of our swish new Council Offices at Burton End; Oh how twee - but not quite correct it seems. Locals 'argue' that a lane or pathway has always existed in the area, once running alongside the then Framland House and linking Burton Street with the Play Close; but it was never officially named or at least, known by any particular name. As an incomer to the town, I would guess that there were at least a dozen pathway given this soubriquet at any one time.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">A discourse has recently arisen on my local town's Facebook pages, as to 'where was what and when was it there' and certain facts have born truth along with the usual assertion of locally handed down myths. Since man discovered the wheel, he has ever used roads to traverse the land on his feet in order get him from place to place. What originated as mere footpaths enabling progress via the shortest routes between caves, have become today the motorways and multi-lane autoroutes and highways which we know so well and as wheeled transport grew larger and less simple, its numbers increased along with the general population. The footpaths were retained for local use, many of which remain protected and maintained under the law of the land to the present time. The more direct routes which linked the more important inhabited population centres and places of business however, required to be widened and most importantly, to be maintained, as the steel rims of large wooden wheels did much damage to the often fragile surfaces, this especially during the winter months. With the question of expense now raising its regular head, the turnpike system was brought into being with toll-gates manned by private companies to take fees from the users with which to earn cash for their high-priced upkeep.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">The turnpikes - or main roads - were simple to name; as you drove to Grantham, it was the Grantham Road and when you got halfway it became the Melton Road, for those travelling in that direction. In the same manner, as the population expanded and the infrastructure grew with it, the smaller linking roads and town streets which serviced the towns and cities were given the most obvious names by the people whose houses were built among them, and all of this with no diktat from local parish councils or the like. Names commonly related to the trades of the people living in them, names such as 'Butchers Lane' or "Bread Street" were obvious. When the time came that the developers began to build not just a house, but acres of houses, the naming of the streets became more important and obviously a challenge as several new roads would appear at one go. Something I am reluctant to put out in the public arena rather surprised me recently when I came across this piece from <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gropecunt_Lane">Wikipedia:</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">I give the link only and cannot accept responsibility for any complaints of moral decadence which might ensue, but watch who is looking over your shoulder! Now </span><span style="font-size: small;">join me, out and about one early Sunday morning.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">An unguided tour</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Walking around our ancient old town as I am wont to do occasionally, I never fail to be perplexed and oftentimes amused by the plethora of seemingly crass and quite simply, baffling, street names which have been and are still being, allocated to the new highways and by-ways which continue to proliferate upon the former meadows and lanes which once skirted our boundaries. In the northeast of the town where the old Victorian Framland Isolation Hospital once stood at the top of Scalford Road, we now have the metamorphosed Framland Residential Home, which today '<i>offers a skilled elderly care service</i>' within its 31 rooms at 'Clark' Drive. Accompanying Darren Clark the still-living golfer, are Torrance Drive; Faldo Drive; Lyle Close and the absolute mother of them all, Laura Davies Close! What on earth have a bunch of rich, has-been golfers got in common with the market town of Melton Mowbray? When the kids grow up and ask who Laura Davies was, I wonder how many of us will recall that she was in fact, no local hero but a one-time woman golfer and certainly not that she was a local person who had once served the Town so well in some loyal way. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">From the fairways of Framland, travel west and across the Scalford Road to alight in what is colloquially known as 'The Poets Estate', where, <i>en route</i> to Nottingham Road we meander betwixt the choice literary plums of; Dickens; D'arcy; Keats; Shelley; Tennyson and Galsworthy et al. Once again we exclaim, "What the heck has 'Rabbie' Burns got to do with us here," perhaps he once leased a hunting-box nearby - who the heck knows? Just beyond the back gardens of the Burns' literary country lie three small tributaries named Russet, Bramley and Laxton; though I don't believe that there were ever any apple orchards there, but again, I might be wrong..</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Am I being unfair - is it that I am being mischievous? Well I have purposely ignored other blatant examples from the north side of the town in order to turn my attention to the sixties development of the Leicester Road Estate, once a prime greenfield area but now generally accepted as residential without a combative thought. But who dreamt up the idea that the interlinking roads should be named after many of the rivers of England; what brilliant flash of inspiration from some unknown benefactor who seemingly possessed the powers and the rights to decide these matters made this decision? I won't name the rivers as there are indeed too many, but one river in particular, Redbrook (Crescent), I have so far failed to trace. If one travels into the deep south of Melton Mowbray, over even more of the former agricultural land, we have the ornithological connection with the Robins, Wrens and Woodcocks etc. which I will perhaps concede are quite relevant to most rural areas. Adjacent to our feathered friends and sited on the most recently developed large estate developed in the town, we can recall the moments of our countryside rambles in the vast collection of names relating to wild flora. But I cannot leave this side of town without a mention of the newly named streets which now replace the site of the old Police Station which once stood on the Leicester Road for almost fifty years. Who on earth dreamed up the idea, formulated the required permissions and actually set up street name boards which are named after three of England's most iconic aircraft, the 'V' bombers Valiant, Victor and Vulcan of the cold war years, together with two more used ones from an even earlier era, the Lancaster and the Halifax. Im not sure that any of these saw actual service at the local airfield, so what is their relevance to us here today.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">THE RULES</span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">I needed to uncover what exactly was the legal or formal criteria for the naming of new thoroughfares and to discover what, if any, procedures or measures or degree of interest is applied by our civic protectors of local heritage: The rules of Melton Borough Council state: </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">'Street Naming and Numbering is a statutory function. The relevant powers for local authorities are contained in Sections 64 and 65 of the Towns Improvement Clauses Act 1847, and Sections 17, 18 and 19 of the Public Health Act of 1925. This legislation requires the Local Authority to prepare street naming and numbering schemes and to maintain a good standard of street name plates.</span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">It is important that developers apply to the Building Control Department at an early stage for a street numbering and naming scheme. We will normally ask the developer for suggestions for street names based upon the history and/or locality of the area, providing they are not similar to any street name that already exists in the area these may be put forward for approval to the afore mentioned committee.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Following agreement with the developer to the proposed street naming and numbering, we will notify the relevant authorities and statutory undertakers of the approved scheme and Royal Mail will be asked to allocate postcodes. Royal Mail will not issue a postcode until informed by the local authority that an address has been allocated, an address is not complete without the correct postcode.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">When the street name has been agreed a layout plan and a street numbering and naming schedule is prepared which allocates a number and street name to each of the developer’s plot numbers. Purchasers of new properties should be careful when passing on their new address details that they are using the postal number and street name, not the plot number and development name, as the two will not necessarily be the same.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Any request for a new or revised property number or street name must be requested in writing to the Building Control Department. A site plan must be submitted with the request on paper no larger than A3, the plan must indicate the property/properties the request relates too.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">New street names should not duplicate a name already in use in the borough or neighbo[u]ring boroughs. Variations to the terminal word (street, road, avenue etc.) will not be accepted as a different name.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s2"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">New street names should be of local significance and unsuitable names should be avoided.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Street names should not be difficult to pronounce or awkward to spell. In general, words of more than three syllables should be avoided and this includes the use of two words except in special cases.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">So basically, what Melton Borough Council does is to ask for the submission of a pro-forma from the developer with his recommendations for names and points out that they have the authority to reject or override any of their suggestions. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">AND WHAT OF OUR NEIGHBOURS?</span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Now on the other hand, what of our immediate neighbours to the east, the Charnwood Borough Council? Working from the same legislation, they interpret the rules to provide a totally different and I believe, much more sensible policy practice which goes like this:</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">POLICY FOR THE NAMING OF STREETS ETC – 2003</span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">(i) This procedure relates to the naming of streets, footpaths, cycleways and parks</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">(ii) The following be included as consultees during the naming process: Parish and town councils, Parish Meetings, Loughborough and District Civic Trust, Urban Forum, History and Archaeology Group, local history and natural history groups, the developer and other persons who from time to time may be identified as being appropriate</span></span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">(iii) After the granting of planning permission, in the case of all sites, the above bodies, as appropriate, be consulted and requested to suggest a name or, as the case may be, a list of names or themes, that accord with the principles outlined below, for consideration. </span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">(iv) The principles for the assignment of new names are that they should:</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> • not relate to living people</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> • not be the same as or similar to other street names in the area </span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> • avoid potential mis-spellings</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> • relate, wherever possible, to one or more of the following:</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> (a) local history/historical associations/historical figures;</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> (b) existing local themes in street names;</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> (c) local natural history associations;</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> (d) local industrial/sporting or twinning themes;</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> • avoid the potential to cause offence. </span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Is it different? well, just a little! a little<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>more than chalk and cheese! So what of the cavalier and apparently unthinking attitude of our friendly, seemingly detached or disinterested ruling body in their state of the art new offices at Melton? I'll bet that there were great jollies and local consultation on the christening of 'Mucky Lane', with probably a couple of bottles of champagne on the taxpayer to share with the local press as they announced their <i>coup de gras, </i>notwithstanding the embarrassing fact that they had been informed wrongly of its true position. What could have been worse when they moved it around the corner to another place where it now remains and is still incorrect. Muddy Lane was ever known to locals and appears on various maps as the alleyway which leads to the Play Close from Leicester Street and is now known as Park Lane.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">So come on Building Control or whoever makes these seismic decisions, get your act together and see if we can't match up with the apparently sensible - and locally sensitive - folk from Charnwood and for the sake of us residents and visitors alike, let us bring an end, once and for all to these dilatory or uncaring practices. I know for sure that there are many living souls around the town who would prefer to remember those characters of a now lengthening list of soon-to-be-forgotten, 'non-living' persons who have at least lived in and more importantly, have contributed something tangible to the Town.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">Finally, is someone is going to tell me that the now departed Civic Society or local Historic Society did in fact, approve of these unsuitable street names, or were indeed, consulted on the subject? If that is the case then it is time for my rant to end and for me to return to my dark room. </span></span></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-20868511250768907222017-11-29T15:11:00.000+00:002017-11-29T15:11:02.751+00:00A PRESSING MATTER<h3>
<b>A Lack of </b>Accommodation</h3>
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Reported from its fortnightly meeting of the Local Board at Melton Mowbray in 1865, during which a vexed member brought to its attention a question which he deemed as being of the utmost importance. The <i>Grantham Journal</i>, with tongue in cheek, reported briefly on the matter with this account.</div>
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'A MATTER FOR CONSIDERATION. </div>
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'<span style="text-align: justify;">Mr LARGE said he wished to direct the attention of the Board to a question which before long must come to the front, and that was the provision of urinals in the town. He thought that it was an important matter, and ought to be ventilated. He was in Leicester the other day, and noticed the arrangement for one of these conveniences in Belgrave Gate, and what was in some towns very unsightly was there made a very nice affair. He thought the adoption of the same idea, namely, a number of trees, would remove any objection that might otherwise arise in the fixing of such places at Melton. Every market day there was often several complaints through the lack of such accommodation. </span>The CHAIRMAN contrasted the size of Melton with a large town and remarked that the question was worth considering and that the Board must look carefully into it. Mr GLOVER thought that it would cost a considerable sum of money to carry it out. The matter was then dropped.</div>
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Hence, as we say today when we finally understood something, "..the penny dropped."<br />
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-39427857805658683832017-08-11T21:48:00.002+01:002024-01-02T01:17:19.810+00:00MUCH IN LITTLE<div class="p5">
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The Story of the Webb Family of Melton Mowbray</h2>
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<span class="s1"><b>A time of Social growth</b></span></h3>
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<span class="s1"><span class="s1">At the arrival of the 20th Century in England when the long Victorian era was ready to hand over to the rule of King Edward VII, the small market town of Melton Mowbray along with the rest of the wider country, was passing through a phase of social extremities in that increasing poverty and a lack of resources amongst the working classes was reaching disturbing proportions. This state of affairs was especially serious in the newly industrialised and crowded conurbations of the larger cities to where a great number of agricultural workers had desperately transferred in search o</span>f paid work, but at the same time it is a contrary fact that the proliferation of a new professional and managerial class of people and a growth of the gentrified classes, was perversely creating an ever widening gap within the general population. Melton Mowbray, unlike many other towns of its size was principally populated by the latter social group, due to a large extent to the great attractions of its fox-hunting and sporting facilities which had continued to provide pleasure and good social entertainment for the wealthy and the gentry in particular who remained strangers to poverty. But this fact is not to suggest that the ‘proletariat’ were spared in any special way, as with the decrease of the sporting activity the double indignity of irregular and low wages combined with a daily struggle to co-exist and support their extended families which were forced to shelter in often squalid and cramped living conditions. This was a situation which was to reach a peak, not to be properly dealt with until the passing of the disruptive Great War of 1914-1918.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Surprisingly, despite the bleak paucity of available or affordable accommodation for the majority of the working classes, the building of new homes did progress steadily in the town and fronting the main approach roads, large and expensive mansions continued to appear on previously virgin tracts of agricultural land, these usually outside the town l</span>imits due to a lack of suitable space within. Many of these new dwellings were built for the use of local business people and for the ‘immigrants’ increasingly arriving in the town to work. Many of these incomers would remain as residents and endeavour to improve and benefit the area over the ensuing years and their descendants are today accepted as welcome and settled Meltonians. It is the story of one of these incoming families from over a century ago that is the subject of my special interest.</div>
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<span class="s1">Much of the new building work was carried out on the [A606] Burton Road which takes travellers South to Oakham and beyond. A general perusal of Census records of 1891, 1901 and 1911 clearly shows a steady increase of real estate in the area as available plots about the town were purchased to be converted into homes. From a random page which lists just seven houses in the 1901 Census can be found two architects, a solicitor, two managers of local businesses and the general manager of the local spinning mill, all being people having originated from places other than Melton. Of special personal interest to me is the entry for No. 60 Burton Road which lists the recent arrivals from Stamford in Lincolnshire as the family of Mr Morpeth Webb, then aged 38 and described as an architect/surveyor who was born in North London. Amongst the children is listed his eldest daughter, Mahala Theodora Webb, born at Stamford and now aged 14 years. It was this young lady, who insisted on being addressed as ‘Dora’, who was to grow up to become quite a celebrity in the important art circles of the wider world. She worked from and spent the great part of her life in the lovely old house which remains in Burton Road today, but now bearing the door number 106. This then, is the story of the Webb family</span></div>
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<b>THE WEBB FAMILY</b></h2>
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<span class="s1"><b>Early Life in Stamford ...</b></span></h3>
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<span class="s1">Born in the heaving and congested streets of Shoreditch in mid -Victorian London in the summer of 1861, Morpeth Webb was one of eight siblings born of the marriage of baker, John Adams Webb and his wife, Harriet Bannister. In around 1870 the family moved North to the Peterborough area more than likely for reasons of employment and a young Morpeth would there complete his formal schooling and later be trained as an architect/draughtsman. Qualifying in 1883 he practiced initially in Grantham, Lincolnshire and in July 1885, he married local girl Florence Sophia, the middle of the three daughters of paperhanger Joseph Cousins and Eliza Elvin. </span><span class="s1">Within the following year the newly-weds moved on once more to nearby Stamford, an attractive town which once straddled the Great North Road in Lincolnshire, but today is circumnavigated by the A1 by-pass. On the 6th May 1886, Morpeth and Florence produced their first child, a girl, whom they were to name Mahala Theodora. (said to be native North American for ‘woman’, this unusual name was also that of Florence’s older sister, Mahala Ellen Cousins.) These given </span>names were more than likely not to have been encouraged for long though, as the soubriquet ‘Dora’ soon became accepted as the norm. She was joined by her sister, Millicent Cecilia - better known later on as ‘Millie’ - in 1887; some five years later in 1892, brother, John Adams Webb arrived to complete the family.</div>
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.. and to Melton Mowbray.</h3>
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<span style="text-align: left;">As the old market town of Melton Mowbray expanded with the inevitable growth of the general population and the human movement from agricultural pursuits to employment in the factories of the towns and cities, new residences were required, especially for the professional people such as Mr Morpeth Webb who could comfortably afford the great expense of being an owner. He had recently gained employment as an administrator with Colonel Richard Dalgliesh who was establishing the recently opened iron-foundry at Asfordby Hill to the northeast of Melton which was to play an important part in the brisk growth and success of the new business which led to the gainful employment of many local people. For the purpose of being handy to his place of work he was to purchase the pretty little semi-detached house at No. 60 Burton Road, an area which is known locally as 'Burton Hill'. It was around 1900 when he arrived in the town with his family to take up occupation of their new home and for him, to commence his lifetime's work alongside Colonel Dalgliesh.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">(This type of house would probably have cost about £250 -£300 at that time!)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCV4TdFVmL84tyfdF7dbxe_fs_x4VTx_sktw8HDRXfByDqBTKlzhNL5b_eCEen9HbvR0ayf4LpuZ-fyUYDZTrWwpxLRVdQb2nCW9cJ7WM-nrQGmNfG2UDPTHtyTAW9pjpQwoYWtailMIH/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-05-19+at+16.45.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCV4TdFVmL84tyfdF7dbxe_fs_x4VTx_sktw8HDRXfByDqBTKlzhNL5b_eCEen9HbvR0ayf4LpuZ-fyUYDZTrWwpxLRVdQb2nCW9cJ7WM-nrQGmNfG2UDPTHtyTAW9pjpQwoYWtailMIH/s640/Screen+Shot+2017-05-19+at+16.45.37.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>The Webb Family Home, pictured in 2017 (Google pics)</b></span></td></tr>
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The Census for 1901 tells us that in April that year, No. 60 Burton Road was still occupied by all five of the Webb Family. The three siblings were all of school age - under 14 - and mother Florence is shown at the age of 35 as a <i>'Teacher of painting school -artist.' </i>It is known that Florence had a small studio attached to the house, where, alongside her marital and domestic duties she taught small classes of local people in the popular art of painting, she specialising in pottery, her favourite discipline.</div>
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By 1911, the census shows that the five members of the Webb family were still all resident at the house in Burton Road and that father Morpeth Webb continued to be employed as an architect and surveyor in his managerial rôle. At the age of 48 he was by now a valuable member of Colonel Dalgliesh's management team at the Holwell ironworks and had assisted especially in the fruitful search for and extraction of iron ore from the local area, which initially had been transported into the works at great expense by train. Florence, is no longer shown as a being a teacher but she was known to carry on her painting until the time of her death. In her later years, she was to become well known as an active woman in social matters locally and to work or the advancement of many good causes. Of her children, Dora, now 24, is shown as an artist and miniature painter, now with an added note to the effect of; <i>on her own account, at home' </i>and not suggesting that Dora was a small woman, she was by now in the business of producing the increasingly popular art form of miniatures, a path which was to lead her a comfortable and independent living, but of much more personal importance, she had acquired celebrity and a respected position in the international world of miniature painters with a membership of the R.S.M. <i>'Royal Society of Miniature Painters, Sculptors and Grazers'. </i></div>
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Sister,<i> </i>'Millie', one year younger, is not shown in the record to be employed, but it is known that although not as successful as Dora proved to be, she too would produce saleable art. John Adams Webb, now at the age of 18, was studying to be a land surveyor as his father had done before him, but he wasn't to know just then that a terrible war in which he would become involved with his contemporaries, was just three years away. Neither of the girls married during their lifetimes and at the age of 22, brother John was in fact, to serve in World War I, first as a private in the 5th London Regiment and later in the Machine Gun Corps Regiment. He came through the conflict apparently unscathed and was discharged with his medals on the 8th February 1919. On his return to Leicestershire he married Amy, with whom he lived for the rest of his life in Leicester. There is not much more of his biography to be discovered.</div>
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Florence, a Talented Mother</h3>
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During King Edward's reign after six long decades of rule by his mother the Queen Victoria, the Webb family seem to have assimilated well into the active life at Melton, finding it, very different from their days in genteel Stamford which was once described by Sir Walter Scott as "The finest stone town in England". This especially so in the Leicestershire town during the hunting season of winter when it seemed like the whole world would descend on the town to hunt, drink, feast and be merry. As the main breadwinner, Morpeth pursued his administrative duties at the Holwell iron works through the remainder of his working life.</div>
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For the first few years of the children's lives, Florence proved to be unlike many women of the time, tied to the stove and the nursery to await her husband's return each day. As a competent and trained artist from her youth, she had moved on from painting to become specialised in the genre of pottery and even later in her life, to a novel concept of creating pottery dolls. As a trained teacher of painting, she not only worked with small mixed classes at the family home, but returned frequently to Stamford school where she had retained a class of hopefuls. She was to influence both of her daughters in the pastime of art, but it is known as to whether young John was to be drawn into the group, especially as this was a hobby then predominantly of the female persuasion. Dora especially, was to be the first to inherit her mothers talent for colours and the depiction of objects about her and was quite young when she first took the notice of the public, as this piece from the <i>Lincoln, Rutland & Stamford Mercury</i> of Friday, 24th April 1896 explained to its readers:</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>EXHIBITION OF PICTURES.</b> - A number of pictures painted by the Stamford pupils of Mrs. M. Webb, of Melton Mowbray, were Exhibited in the Albert-hall, Stamford, on Thursday afternoon last, and were inspected by a large number of people. An interesting programme of music was rendered at intervals by the pupils and others, and afternoon tea (given by the class) was served, the rooms being nicely decorated. Altogether about 80 pictures were shown, and they were highly creditable to both the students and their mistress, especially considering that the majority of the pupils had only two terms under Mrs. Webb. The chief interest centred in some pictures painted by Mrs. Webb herself, including four charming views and four exquisite miniatures. She also displayed some woodcuts, in engraving in which she is an adept. ... and Miss Dora Webb, aged nine, a view which she painted without aid. As a whole the pictures were exceedingly good, some of them showing marked ability, and Mrs. Webb is to be highly congratulated on the success which has attended her class.</span></blockquote>
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Early kudos indeed, especially at the time for Florence herself, for an exposure she most certainly would have appreciated, but the small reference to a nine years old Dora, was most probably a spur for mother and father to get her off to some proper training. In the meantime, sister Millie was not to let all of the light shine on her older sibling as she continued with her own work.</div>
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Alyn Williams RSM (President)</h3>
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With the spark of an early interest shown in the nascent talent of young Dora Webb at the Stamford exhibition, there is little doubt that her mother would seek out the best chances for her young prodigy - if that is what she was going to be. She could not have done much better therefore, than to attract the attention of one of the leading miniaturists of the day to her daughter's work and before she was much older, Dora was taking her tutelage at the knee of the master, Alyn Williams who was regarded as the leading light in England at the beginning of the 20th century. Whether the moment or the circumstances of this meeting at Stamford were those of pure chance, or carefully pre-planned, is today open to speculation. It is known that as an artist of some respect Florence Webb was acquainted socially with Mr Williams from the world of art in which she moved and the place of meeting on that important day was a relatively small exhibiton in Stamford. Whatever the fruits of this meeting, a very young Dora was to receive tuition and guidance from a man who really knew his subject. As for the man himself, in his younger days, in 1902, a critic from the <i>Daily Sketch</i> wrote of him;</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">" ... The great revival which has taken place in what was until a few years ago the lost art of miniature painting is due mainly to the son of that distinguished scientist, the late Mr W Matthew Williams F.C.S., My Alyn Williams, the founder and president of the Royal Society of Miniature Painters. He turned his attention to the art at an early stage, and after studying in London and abroad finished his academic work in the Academie Julien under Laurens and Benjamin Constant. His first portrait, a beautiful miniature painting of Miss Yarrow, was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1890, and since then his works have become familiar to visitors at the principal art galleries here and abroad. Among Mr William's sitters have been King Edward and Queen Alexandra who each gave the artist a series of special sittings at Buckingham Palace."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">'... he has a very sound understanding of what is essential in this delicate form of pictorial art, and combines cleverly in his work due respect for tradition with definite originality of method. His touch is free and expressive, his drawing graceful and dainty, and his colour, always pleasantly harmonious, is at times remarkable for its strength and brilliancy.'</span><br />
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With the support of Williams and his connections within the world of miniatures, Dora went on to produce many more works of art, the majority of which were selected for public exhibition. It is estimated that during her active life she was to produce more than 300 pieces of work which were exhibited exhibited in many major art venues around the world to much acclaim. A quiet and polite young lady with few pretensions to greatness, Dora produced her works from her home and whilst never reaching the highest of high echelons, her creations were always considered desirable and new items were eagerly awaited to be despatched from her little home studio in Melton Mowbray and usually fetching high prices in a busy market.</div>
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Apart from reports of her exhibitions around the country and the showing of her work in foreign cities, little is heard of Dora or her family during the following two decades, which were of course to embrace the terrible war of 1914-18, but it is recorded that the Webb family took a very important part in the social life of their town. This was especially so in the case of Millicent Webb who was to devote the whole of the war period to the voluntary nursing of the many soldiers recuperating the various battle fronts across France and Germany, who were now detained with varying degrees of shattered minds and disfigured bodies in the temporary military hospital at nearby Wicklow Lodge. The Webb ladies were most likely attracted to this vital work in the knowledge that young sibling, John Adams Webb was manning a machine-gun in the killing fields of that awful passage of history. More of Millie's story later.</div>
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A particularly impressive report on Dora's progress as a still aspiring artist was to appear in the <i>Grantham Journal </i>of 7th December 1907 which was headed;</div>
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<b>MELTON SUCCESSES AT A LEICESTER EXHIBITION</b></div>
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Amongst the two hundred pictures exhibited in the old free library, Wellington Street, Leicester, by the Leicester Society of Artists, are two miniatures by Miss Doris Webb, of Melton Mowbray, deserving of special notice.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Great War of 1914-1918</span></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-15461279358585260462017-06-03T00:48:00.002+01:002018-03-26T01:08:16.685+01:00A STORM IN A PARISH TEA CUP<div class="p1">
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<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: large;">William Morris Colles M.A. D.D. (1819-1899)</span></b></span></h3>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">The Revd. William Morris Colles M.A. (later to become a Doctor of Divinity - D.D.) succeeded Reverend Carr as Curate of St Mary’s Melton Mowbray in 1849 when he inherited sole charge of the living which was at the time sequestrated (i.e. not entitled to Church Revenues) as a result of the misdeeds of the then incumbent, but almost permanently absent, Reverend Robert Fleetwood Croughton, B.A.. As the young pretender to the occupation of the Vicarage, Rev. Colles valiantly held the fort until eventually, in 1867 and on the eventual death of Croughton, he was finally presented with the glittering prize of the Vicarage of Melton Mowbray after having been the Curate-in-waiting for some 18 long years. William was an only son, born in May of 1819 at his family home of Wexford Castle in County Kildare, Ireland, the seat of his father, the late Lieutenant William Colles of Her Majesty’s 8th Regiment of Foot, possessor of considerable amounts of property and personal wealth. On the 5</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s2"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> December 1850 at St. Mark’s church in Marylebone, London, William was to marry Louisa Ann, eldest daughter of the late Rev. Henry Taylor, lately Rector of Stoke Rochford in Lincolnshire. in 1874 he gained the designation of ‘Doctor of Divinity - DD’ a title by which he later became more familiarly known.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>The good doctor’s overall tenure at Melton Mowbray - an historic market town noted for its hunting and fine foods which lies to the north east of Leicestershire in the East Midlands of England - was to extend for 40 long years, i.e. 1849-1889, a career which is today looked upon today as having been of overall benefit to the town and its parishioners. Over such a long period of tenancy in overall charge, controversy was bound to arise from time to time , especially with the increasing arrival within his parish of non-believers, dissenters and nonconformists, but generally, the Curate who waited so many years to become vicar is widely and fondly remembered today far more for the many good things that he achieved for the town and the upkeep of his church, especially in relation to the maintenance and frequent renovation of the ancient church buildings and their environs, along with a dedicated interest in the education of the young and the general protection of his flock. Today his name is appropriately memorialised nearby with the continued existence of the Colles Hall in Burton Street - albeit now a modern pizza-parlour.<span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">A part of the Curate's biography which has not always been recalled in the conversations of politer circles relates to events of the year 1850, which is not only to be remembered exclusively as the year of his earthly marriage to Louisa, but also to the summer of that year when the young incumbent was to court much unwanted controversy. Reportedly a little headstrong and occasionally outspoken in the earlier years of his new living, he was to provoke much serious public animus when, on the occasion of the passing of a well-known and loved local character against whom he seems to have adopted a certain <i>hauteur,</i> he steadfastly refused access to ‘his’ church of her unconsecrated remains. His alleged indiscreet and dismissive handling of a quite sensitive situation, was to create an indelicate incident which would anger not only his own local proletariat, but was to bring upon his head the censure of a national press, unwanted - some say unwarranted - exposure to the public gaze and a general discourse of religious morality within the country as a whole. As s</span></span><span style="font-size: small; text-indent: 36px;">hort-lived as this controversy proved to be during those late summer months, perhaps in hindsight, a storm in a teacup, it is an engaging story which is perhaps well worth repeating.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">During the second week of the month of August in the long-ago Victorian summer of 1850, Elizabeth Wainer, reportedly a colourful and popular character and matriarch of an extended and infamous local family, died peacefully and apparently naturally, at her little home in Chapel Street, Melton Mowbray. A celebrated character of the working classes, ‘Old Betty’ is said to have paid scant attention to her religious and civic duties during her 60 plus years on earth and apparently instead had played out a dissipated and often drunken life amongst the men-folk and lower levels of the townspeople who dwelt mainly in the tight little alleyways and small rented houses close to mediaeval walls of the old town centre, earning a wage occasionally in the employ of providing mainly menial services for the visiting gentry of the hunting fraternity. Matriarch Betty was, nevertheless, said to be dearly loved by her many family members and a large number of friends and colleagues who were liberally spread around the small population of about 3000 people then resident in the town. Unfortunately for the good Dr. Colles with only a short residence in the town thus far, his unhelpful and dismissive attitude both towards her actual death at this time, followed by the arrival of her body at the Church gates and finally, to her subsequent burial in consecrated ground, created his publicly reasoned objections to her admission to the house of God which he related to the grounds of her low social grouping and ‘risky’ reputation. His adamant refusal to accept the presence of her body within the bounds of the church building immediately engendered a great upheaval of public sympathy and general disapproval, not to mention a significant groundswell of general anger locally. </span></span>This unfortunate incident and its related discordance was not to escape the attention of a scandal-seeking local press and amidst the furore of the family and their allies, support for the actions of the Curate was to come initially in the guise of a small piece, tucked away on page 3 of the <i>Leicestershire</i> <i>Mercury</i> of Saturday, 17th August 1850:</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s3">‘</span><span class="s1"><b>DIED</b>, on Saturday last, aged 66, Elizabeth Wainer, better known as “Old Betty,” who had been for half-a-century the keeper of a brothel in this town. Great dissatisfaction was evinced by her relations and friends that the Rev. W. M. Coles, the curate, would not perform the burial-service over her body in the church, as the deceased had been duly baptised, (and, therefore, according to the Bishop of Exeter, “regenerated!”) christened, and confirmed, and had always paid church-rates. Some few other parties, we find, think the rev. gentleman acted inconsistently, seeing that he did read the service at the grave-side, in doing which he spoke of the deceased’s hope of a joyful resurrection, and afterwards demanded the customary fees. Now, we cannot coincide in this opinion. Mr. Colles was not bound to admit the corpse into the church, while, we believe, he was bound to read the service at the grave-side: as curate, he was also bound to ask for the fees - not for himself, but for the representatives of the non-resident vicar. Nor can we join in blaming a clergyman because he hesitates in the performance of a solid mockery. The less said on such an occasion the better.’</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Fair comment perhaps, but being dismissive of the protests it was not to be not an opinion shared by another regional newspaper, a competitor, which was also to hit the news-stands that Saturday in August from the neighbouring county of Lincolnshire where <i>‘Correspondent‘</i> from the nearby <i>Stamford Mercury, </i>asserted to be ‘simply recording the facts as he was advised of them from a respectable source.’ He was to expound his alternative views beneath the one-line death announcement in the obituaries column, i.e.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>‘At Melton Mowbray on the 11</b></span><span class="s4"><b><sup>th</sup></b></span><span class="s1"><b>, Mrs Eliz. Wainer, late Chapel Street.</b></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">‘<b>Refusing to Bury the Dead.</b> – In our obituary of this day will be found a notice of the death of a noted character in Melton; and it proved to be an event when the domineering spirit of priestcraft had an opportunity of venting its full spleen, both before the spirit had gone to the God who gave it, and also when there was nothing left but an inanimate lump of clay. We shall simply record the facts as we are advised of them from a respectable source, and then leave all Christian people to judge of them. Mrs Wainer was a public character for many years in Melton, and pursued such a course of life as no man would vindicate; but as there are always two sides to a question, we may be permitted to add that, wherever disease or destitution made its appearance in her neighbourhood, her’s was the heart and the hand ever foremost to mitigate suffering. She was taken dangerously ill on Friday last, and wished for someone to pray by her; and, at her own request, the Curate of the parish was sent for. Upon his arrival, he commenced a tirade against her respecting her past life, and resolutely refused to comply with her wishes at all; and had it not been for the goods offices of some neighbours, she might have left this world without any spiritual consolation whatever. However, on Sunday morning she died; and on Tuesday her children were startled with the information that the clergyman would refuse the body admittance into the church, and would also refuse to read that part of the service at all. Great, therefore, was the general excitement when the corpse arrived at the church gates, and no minister made his appearance according to custom; and still greater when, for the first time within the memory of man, the church doors were found closed against the dead. After the mourners had waited for a sufficient time, they retired again with the corpse, amidst vehement cries of “shame” from the people, to the new Church of England burial ground, where ready stood the Rev. Wm. Coles, [sic] and he commenced reading the funeral service in his canonical dress. The relatives of the deceased, however, refused to listen to him, and after depositing the body in the ground, they left the clergyman continuing to read the usual service for the dead, over the body which he had refused to admit into the church. The event has caused great excitement in the town, and is calculated to rend wider the division which, owing to such uncharitable courses, has for some time existed.’</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">Whether or not the embattled Curate did actually read the offending and personal critique of his controversial actions in <i>‘The Mercury’ - </i>which was the nearest local newspaper of the day - is not recorded and there is no reply to be</span><span class="s3"> </span><span class="s1">found in later editions of that particular publication, but this was not to be the case with the Leicestershire paper however with whom Mr Colles was soon to be taking up his pen. However, comment was soon to appear from a most unexpected source when <i>The Times</i>, the nation’s most read and respected - even revered - newspaper offered an even more vitriolic critique from the columns of its sister paper, <i>The Examiner. W</i>ithout pulling any punches in an overt and vituperative attack on the Curate, he produced the following piece: </span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="s1">‘In the <i>Lincoln, Rutland, and Stamford Mercury</i> for the 16</span><span class="s4"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> August, we find this narrative.</span></div>
</span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="text-align: justify;">At Melton Mowbray, a Mrs Wainer, who had been compromised in character, but to the poor around her had been uniformly kind and liberal, was upon her death-bed; and the curate of the parish refused her own solicitation that he would come and pray with her. She died; and he refused admission of her body to the church, consenting only to so much of the burial service as was usually read upon the ground. The coffin and the mourners found the church doors closed. The people (the parishioners) yelled their disgust at this. The body was then carried to the cemetery, where the relatives and mourners left it; and the reverend gentleman performed as a soliloquy, so far as they were interested, what he considered to be the remainder of his duty<i>.</i></span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
We say nothing of shutting the church doors. The reverend gentleman might do with the body any unseemly things he pleased, or might think it decent to enact. But who is this, disguised among the ministers of Jesus, who dares refuse to pray beside a dying woman – because she was a sinner? Who is this? It is the Reverend William Coles, [sic] of Melton Mowbray.</blockquote>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The Pharisees, as Mr Coles might do, objected to Our Lord that he had too much care for sinners. Only the Pharisees could move Him to anger. Whether Mr Coles be a High Churchman, or a Low Churchman, we know not. But we know that he ought not to be teacher in the Church of Christ – he needs too greatly to be taught.’</span></span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="p16">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="p14">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Whenever and wherever it was that the Reverend Colles did subsequently read this damning public exposé of his worldly alleged ‘misdoings’, one can only imagine today the inner sense of outrage and despair which he must have endured on seeing such derogatory and embarrassing personal criticism, especially so in a national newspaper which was after all, far from a private circulation but one available and circulated for the whole world to read. But whatever the spur, his calculated response was a swift one as he once more wielded his pen as a sword to enter combat with the following response which was to appear in <i>The</i> <i>Times</i> dated Wednesday, 28</span><span class="s2"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> August 1850.’</span></div>
</div>
<div class="p17">
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Sir, </span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"> I have just seen a paragraph from the ‘Examiner’ in your paper this day, which states, that Mrs Wainer, of Melton Mowbray, “was upon her deathbed, and the curate of the parish refused at her own solicitation that he would come and pray with her.” I beg to state that this is a malicious falsehood. As you have thought fit to bring this matter before your readers, I may add that Mrs Wainer has kept a brothel in this town for almost half a century (as I am credibly informed). She sent for me and I went to her house, accompanied by the Rev. G.B. Hill, assistant curate of Melton: I preached the Gospel to her, prayed for her and exhorted her in the kindest manner to repent of her sins, and look to the Saviour. I can prove this. The Examiner represents me as a Pharisee, says, “Probably he preaches Phillpotts,” and adds, “We know that he ought not to be a teacher in the church of Christ, he needs too greatly to be taught.”</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"> I approve of the liberty of the press, as a safeguard for the liberty of the people, but I regret that your paper should be made the medium of circulating a false and malicious libel, followed by scoffing insinuations and assertions, under the semblance of zeal for the truth.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"> It is true that the body of Mrs Wainer was not brought into the church. She seldom darkened the church doors whilst living, and was not permitted to defile them when dead. With reference to the yells of the parishioners, the Examiner states, “the people yelled their disgust at this.” I defy the writer to produce a single respectable inhabitant of Melton Mowbray who joined in such yells, or sympathised with the mob. I read the service as required by the law (which the Examiner describes as a “soliloquy,” notwithstanding the number of persons assembled on the occasion); and, with reference to my preaching, I teach in the church of Christ according to the ability which God has given to me.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"> Hoping that you will insert this contradiction of the false statements which have appeared in your paper,</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am Sir, your obedient servant,</div>
</div>
<span class="s1"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span class="s1">W.M. COLLES, Curate of Melton Mowbray.</span></div>
</div>
<span class="s1">
</span><span class="s1"></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span class="s1">The Vicarage, Melton Mowbray, Aug. 26.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">
</span></blockquote>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><i></i></span><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="p27">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The following week<i>, The Examiner</i> duly replied by return with the following:</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="p10">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="p17">
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">‘The Times publishes a letter from the Reverend Mr Colles, the curate of Melton Mowbray, denying the material part of the charge which the Lincoln and Stamford Mercury had made against him, and which was copied into last weeks Examiner with a comment which the case quite justified.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> “She sent for me and I went to her house, accompanied by the Rev. G.B. Hill, assistant-curate of Melton; I preached the Gospel to her, prayed for her, and exhorted her in the kindest manner to repent of her sins, and look to the Saviour. I can prove this. The Examiner represents me as a Pharisee, says, “Probably he preaches Phillpots,” and adds, “we know that he ought not to be a teacher in the church of Christ, he needs too, greatly to be taught.”</span></i></span><span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> I approve of the liberty of the press, as a safeguard for the liberty of the people, but I regret that your paper should be made the medium of circulating a false and malicious libel, followed by scoffing insinuations and assertions, under the semblance of zeal for the truth.</span></i></span><span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;"> It is true that the body of Mrs Wainer was not brought into the church. She seldom darkened the church doors whilst living, and was not permitted to defile them when dead. With reference to the yells of the parishioners, the ‘Examiner’ states, “the people yelled their disgust at this.” I defy the writer to produce a single respectable inhabitant of Melton Mowbray who joined in such yells, or sympathised with the mob. I read the service as required by the law (Which the Examiner describes as a “soliloquy,” notwithstanding the number of persons assembled on the occasion); and, with reference to my preaching, I teach in the church of Christ according to the ability which God has given to me.”</span></i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
O<span style="text-align: justify;">n reflection Mr Colles will doubtless transfer his answer to the journal which originated the charge against him. Meanwhile we are glad to find, by this letter, that the worse half of the case, and the only part on which we commented, can be denied distinctly. The denial is quite satisfactory. We cheerfully retract our comment.</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Our readers will remember that we did not found our observation on that part of the case which Mr Colles recognises as correct – the shutting of the church doors upon the body, and the yelling of a mob in consequence. We did not, and we do not, comment upon this; because it has now, we regret to say, become so much a common practice, that it would not be fair, for this alone, to hold up individuals for censure.</span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"> If malicious falsehood prompted the original mis-statement, Mr Colles may rather thank us, than be angry with us, as the means of bringing it into the light. We may note that in condensing our report of the case we did not state, as Mr Colles seems to think, that so much burial service as he gave was an absolute soliloquy. We said it was so, in as far as the relatives and mourners were concerned; they being stated to have left the ground, refusing to be present at it. Mr Colles was too angry very clearly to understand what he read. We wish, for his own sake, that his reply had been written temperately; but in temper in such a matter we are far from desiring to make unkind comment. The accusation made against Mr Colles justified a momentary anger, and required an instant refutation.’</span></span></blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At this point it seemed that, according to my research, the matter had reached its conclusion; but it was not to be as battle was to be rejoined with a defensive gesture against the ‘impertinent’ instigators of this personal printed and public defamation against a respected member of the church and for this purpose a gathering of many of his most loyal ‘soldiers’ was held in the town. In the Leicestershire Mercury of 7th September 1950, the following appeared:</div>
</div>
<div class="p12">
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">’<b>PUBLIC MEETING.</b> - On Thursday evening, the 29th ult., a meeting of the inhabitants was held in the Church School-room, “to consider what steps should be taken in reference to the unwarrantable and false attack made in the <i>Stamford Mercury</i> upon the Rev. W. M. Colles, Curate of the Parish.” The attack alluded to appeared in the <i>Stamford Mercury</i> of the 16th Ult., and falsely charged the rev. gentleman with refusing the request of an aged female of notorious character to pray with her on her death-bed. The assistant-Curate, who accompanied him to her bedside, attested that her wishes were both kindly and fervently complied with. The <i>Times</i> and <i>Examiner</i> have also taken up and more widely propagated the calumnious falsehood, - making its complete refutation still more needful. At this meeting the speakers strongly condemned the conduct of the <i>Stamford Mercury’s</i> editor for putting forth this and many other falsehoods about our church, our ministers and our schools, which have latterly found a ready place in its columns. It was decided not to seek redress for this last gross calumny in a court of law, but to undeceive the public respecting it by means of an address to the Rev. W. M. Colles, to be signed by the inhabitants and inserted in the <i>Times</i> as well as the local newspapers, including the <i>Stamford Mercury</i>, and also to circulate it by handbills in the town and neighbourhood. A subscription to defray the consequent expenses was at once entered into by the meeting, which was most numerously and respectably attended. The address, with its numerous signatures, will be found among our advertisements.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"> The <i>Examiner </i>of last Saturday, refers to the letter sent by Mr Colles to the <i>Times</i>, in refutation of the charge referred against him by the correspondent of the <i>Stamford Mercury</i>, and copied into the <i>Examiner</i> with a “comment which the case quite justified.” Surely there are two very material words omitted from this sentence? it should read, “the case, <i>as stated</i>,” etc. The editor adds, after quoting the essential portion of Mr Colles’ letter, “On reflection, Mr Colles will doubtless transfer his anger to the journal which originated the charge against him. Meanwhile we are glad to find, by this letter, that the worst half of the case, and the only part on which we commented, can be denied distinctly. The denial is quite satisfactory. We cheerfully retract our comment. Our readers will remember that we d</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s1">id not found our observation on that part of the case which Mr Colles recognises as correct - the shutting of the church doors upon the body, and the yelling of a mob in consequence. We did not know, and we do not comment on this; because it has now, we regret to say, become so much a common practice, that it would not be fair, for this alone, to hold up individuals for censure. If malicious falsehood prompted the original mis-statement, Mr Colles may rather thank us, than be angry with us, as the means of bringing it into the light.” So far well. We hope the matter will now be suffered to drop. Mr Colles was justly accused and condemned; he has cleared himself by a simple recital of facts - his fellow townsmen have affirmed his honourable acquittal in the most gratifying manner. </span></span><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">(Editor L. M.)</span></span> </blockquote>
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<div class="p8">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">So the editor of the Leicestershire paper seems to have weaselled his way out of the messy dispute with a form of apology - a little too oily in my opinion - but the curate’s approach of asking his parishioners for support this ‘acquittal’ in the form of a local referendum, paid for by the congregation, supported and signed in the form of a letter by at least one hundred names, he set about his demand for an apology by way of publicly advertising his anger at the allegations made. He was even to charge the sum of 6 pence for a printed copy of the letter, but it seems to have been a resounding success and this appeal won the day when an extensive and scathing letter was passed to the Editor of the <i>Stamford Mercury</i> by church members expressing their views. In the end, the very public matter was to eventually pass into the oblivion of the annals of time and William Morris Colles was to move onwards and upwards, to finally become the parish vicar and later, a Doctor of Divinity, whilst continuing to pursue his personal quest to improve the fabric of his place of work and to raise his own young family in the Parish, along with supporting the people of his flock.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="p36">
<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
Four Decades of Service and Dedication to the Parish</h3>
</div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"></span>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">With the very public account in the <i>Examiner</i>, which seems to have drawn back on some of its initial, harsher criticism of Revd. Colles, a bottom line seemed to have been drawn under the Elizabeth ‘Betty’ Wainer affair, an unfortunate episode now seemingly forgotten and lost in the mists of time. There was indeed much more important work to be undertaken in a parish which to a great extent had become sorely neglected due to the prolonged absence and apparent disinterest of the incumbent Revd. </span><span class="s3">Robert Croughton. T</span><span class="s1">he foregoing events - which today might seem to have been perhaps just a storm in a tea cup - appear to have caused little detriment to his professional and personal standing. He was to move forward with his head held high and to complete in all a grand total of 40 years distinguished service in all of which he displayed a genuine devotion to his chosen work. In total, he was to marry 644 hopeful young couples and to baptise some 2064 members of his flock across those years and these would include his own special contribution of three surviving children who were all born in the town; along with his son Morris, were included his two daughters Louisa Maria Ursula, who died at the age of 23 years in 1875 and Charlotte Ellen who would later assist her father with church matters, including dealing with much of the Parish’s administrative affairs during her father’s lifetime and incumbency as Vicar up to the time of his death. Charlotte died at Ealing in London in 1929 at the age of 75.</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Passing.</span></b></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div class="p3">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">During his time in the market town of Melton Mowbray, Doctor Colles would frequently raise large amounts of money from his parish, often with more than generous donations from his own pocket and family purse for restoration work to the church superstructure and other grand related causes. It is known that the church was improved and renovated more during his living than at any other period. Significantly, he was a prime mover in the acquisition of many of the magnificent stained glass memorial windows which are still so impressive and regularly admired in St Mary’s church today. </span></span>Sadly, like all good things that pass before us, his sojourn in our earthly midst was inevitably to come to an end; even the wonderful William Morris Colles was not to prove himself immortal! He was to outlive his beloved wife Louisa by six years, who passed away in the spring of 1884.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="p2">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Afflicted by his own ever-increasing and unremitting ill-health over a period of several months, he finally succumbed to the debilitating disease of <i>Nephritis</i> - a severe and painful inflammation of the kidneys. He was to pass through from his mortal existence quietly in his Burton Street vicarage during the afternoon of Friday 1</span><span class="s2"><sup>st</sup></span><span class="s1"> February 1888 and was to be finally delivered up to the arms of his Lord just three months short of his 70</span><span class="s2"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> birthday, this being some 40 years after his arrival in the small town which he came to love and adopt as his very own.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">In the manner of an epitaph and thus far, still standing as an established commemoration of Doctor Colles’ 40 years dedicated service to the town, a building was constructed on land opposite the Church. The <i>Colles Hall</i> in Burton Street, or to give it its formal designation, <i>The Colles Hall Memorial Institute,</i> was officially opened on Thursday 30</span><span class="s2"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="s1"> October 1890 by the Lord Bishop of Peterborough. Funded by public subscription in the Reverends’s name and memory, it raised initially £1068, leaving a debt of some £600 to defray the total cost, of which amount the Bishop said, “… there was such a good feeling in the parish which would not allow the remaining sum that was required, to be long unpaid.” The Hall stands adjacent to what was once the Vicarage -now known to local people as the Blakeney Institute - in which the Colles family would have once lived. I have wondered if our subject would be amused if he were to return to the town some time soon to discover that the Hall which carries his name had by now been transformed into a popular pizza parlour. I might opine that by now having discovered something of the persona of the man, I have a sneaky feeling that he </span><span class="s6">is</span><span class="s1"> in fact still looking down on the old town and is probably well aware of the situation. In the context of life in the 21</span><span class="s2"><sup>st</sup></span><span class="s1"> century, he would perhaps grudgingly concede the situation as inevitable; some would say as inevitable as the removal of the carved hand pointing heavenwards which once adorned a small memorial stone located in the east precincts of the church of which he was once the vicar and which bears these few words:</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">‘William Morris Colles, M.A., D.D., rest in peace.’</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
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<div class="p27">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">(I have since been anonymously assured that the 'hand' was not in fact stolen, but lies stored safely today, within the church.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is a lot more to be told of within the seven decades of the useful and constructive life undertaken by the young man from Ireland who came to live amongst the people of Melton Mowbray in Victorian times, but having recollected merely a particular moment in his younger life, I will leave it here.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
________________________________</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Reverend William Morris Colles M.A. D.D. 1819-1899. R.I.P.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span>_________________________________________</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>FOOTNOTE.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<h2 style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">William Morris Colles (1855-1926)</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<div class="p3">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">William was William and Louisa’s only son and it follows perhaps that the young man might well have taken his father’s full name at birth, though later in his life he was to be known generally as ‘Morris'. Leaving home at quite a young age to seek a future elsewhere in the world, I doubt that his parents would have ever dared to guess along what path his future life might travel. After reading law at Oxford and spending a short time as a trained Barrister, his attention and future life was to lie in the field of literacy and other arts. He married in 1880, Fanny Elizabeth Bird.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-61779684788236064512017-02-26T21:29:00.003+00:002024-02-10T00:29:28.967+00:00A STATELY HOME REMEMBERED (2)<div>
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FRAMLAND HOUSE </h2>
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THE POWELL FAMILY</h3>
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By the early 1890's, the Johnson family were out of Framland House and out of Melton Mowbray. Annie Johnson, by now leading the life of a reasonably young and clearly wealthy widow annuitant, seemed to have had her future secured with an impressive pension. Preferring life in the capital city she was soon to be ensconced in the sumptuous comfort and prestige of one of the best of London's leafy suburbs, where she would complete the raising of her children and ensuring that her only son Henry did not forgo his architectural studies. She would also outlive her ancestors by reaching the grand age of 90 years before her eventual passing in Hampstead in December, 1923. But what of the old family home with its 11 bedrooms, stables and large garden standing in the grounds of the railway station at Melton Mowbray? It might have been a snip at around £500 when she left and in fact was valued at some £800 when it failed to meet its reserve in 1911. In truth, although never seriously regarded as a noted hunting-box in the town, the house was occupied occasionally by winter visitors who welcomed the availability of the attached stables and its proximity with the ambience of the town centre and its attractions. At around the same time as the widow Mrs Johnson moved away from the town with her family, a new doctor who had recently arrived in Melton had quietly eased in to cramped premises in the High Street, ostensibly to ‘practice his profession for a couple of days a week and to maybe do a little hunting on the side;’ at the age of just 24 years, he arrived as a newly-qualified member of the Royal College Of Surgeons. Dr Lionel Powell, of Welsh origin but born in the Channel Island of Jersey. The popular physician would prove to be a welcome addition and an important resident for a few years to come. </div>
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With no direct family connections remaining in the town today, the Powells - they like it pronounced 'Poel' as in 'Noel' - originated way back in the 5th or 6th century in the Radnor/Hereford area of the Welsh Borders. The name of Powell is said to derive from the name Hoel or Howell but for brevity we need not look further back than the arrival of Philip Lewis Powell (1805-1856) to bring us into the 19th century as one of seven children of a father of the same name, born in 1775 and his mother, Elizabeth (Turner), daughter of a wealthy banker who on the occasion of her own father's death is said to have managed to stave off bankruptcy within her own family. Moving about the country frequently the family was to spend many years in Norfolk, but Philip was to eventually return 'home' to end his days back in Milford Haven. Five of the siblings were males, of whom three entered the service of the East India Company, with the younger Philip himself serving as a naval officer and reaching the high rank of Commander. In 1840 as a young 35 year old, he retired altogether from military life claiming ill-health and it was around this period that he was to marry Eliza Sophia Galliers - also of Welsh origin - and the couple would re-locate to the small island of Jersey in the English Channel.</div>
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Lionel Lewis Powell.</h3>
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The 1851 census for the States of Jersey, just off the coast of France records that in that year, at <i>Magnolia Cottage</i> in the parish of St Lawrence, a 44 years old Philip Lewis Powell, 'retired commander,' was resident with his wife, Eliza L Powell, 32 yrs. It includes one son, 3 yrs old Lionel L. Powell, born within the Island and a housemaid cum general nurse, Mary Ann, making up a cosy quartet. Not a lot is known of the attraction for them of the small Island of Jersey or of the goings-on of their social life there, but the early and not unexpected death of Philip in 1856 destined that the stay would not be permanent. In his biography, '<i>Anthony Powell - a Life,</i>' (Duckworth Overlook 2004), author Michael Barber suggests an air of mystery when writing of this first-born and only child, Philip;</div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">'... For instance his obituary in the Melton Mowbray Mercury states that following the death of his father he spent several years in Italy with his mother. Yet the same year his father died, 1856, he was enrolled as a day boy at Berkhampstead Grammar School. Why Berkhampstead? Possibly because of John Dupré, a Jersey man who was headmaster of the school from 1790 to 1805, during which time it became customary for the Jersey gentry to send their sons there."</span> </span></blockquote>
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There is indeed a dearth of information as to those school and early learning years but it seems that as a grieving widow Eliza Powell was a transient soul and soon after the precipitous death of her husband she had placed the small island behind her and taken young Lionel off to Edinburgh where he attended briefly at the Edinburgh Academy until 1862. The census of 1861 actually shows Lionel, now 13 years old, with his mother, resident at No. 31 Dorset Place, Marylebone and there later followed a period in Italy where Eliza's sister was living with her English Officer husband, then serving with the Bourbon Army. Probably as a result of his travels about Europe, Philip Powell was considered to have acquired a good knowledge of languages and it was also suggested that he harboured an overriding ambition to lead a military life, but it was a desire more than likely to have been squashed or suppressed by a most unenthusiastic mother. Or as Michael Barber proposes,</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">'...perhaps there wasn't the money to purchase a suitable commission in a decent regiment and either way, Lionel had to settle for thirty years of part time soldiering with the local [Melton Mowbray] Volunteers, whose honorary Colonel he eventually became.'</span></div>
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We know not what influences might have led the young and obviously bright Lionel Powell to chose the profession of medicine as a future career over the choice of a military life, but on the 16th May 1871 having successfully negotiated his degree in medicine at Edinburgh, he was admitted to the Royal College of Surgeons as LRCP and LM: two days later he became a Licentiate of the Society of Apothecaries. We also have few clues as to his decision to carry on his life's chosen work in the small market town of Melton Mowbray - famous mainly for its fox-hunting, pork-pies and stilton cheese - but far away in the wilds of the English East Midlands and some 100 miles or more from the country's capital city. But arrive he did and within a very short passage of time and at the age of just 23 years, he was to be found as a lodger at the Wilton Terrace home of auctioneer Joseph Miles and his wife Harriet. From here he would soon join up with two well established and respected local surgeons, the Messrs. Roberts and Whitchurch. He would soon after this, set up business on his own account as 'Powell and McCraith, Surgeons' with his good friend and medical partner, Jeremiah McCraith, which business and offices would be established at rented premises in the ground floor of No. 1 Burton Street, better known as <i>Framland House</i>, by now vacated by the Johnson family. </div>
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She was only the Brewer's Daughter. </h2></div>
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Life in Melton Mowbray seems to have proved to be just what the young Doctor Powell might have envisioned when he initially planned a future there, as Michael Barber writes:</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">'It was a happy choice. When not hunting himself, which he did three days a week in the season, he was profiting by its consequences. The rest of his spare time was devoted to the Leicestershire Volunteers. Although not without charm, Lionel Powell was evidently someone who had to be taken on his own terms, which included the taste for practical joking. His party piece when out for a stroll with a companion was to trip them up with his walking stick and catch them before they hit the ground, a feat that must have required split-second timing and a degree of forbearance on the part of his victim.'</span></div>
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On the 25th August 1873, Dr. Powell was Gazetted as an Ensign of the 3rd Leicestershire or Melton Mowbray Company of Rifle Volunteers, being vice to local brewer, William Adcock, Esq., now Lieutenant.' Thus he had embarked on what was to be a long period of military service along with his civic responsibilities as a doctor and later on, as politician, coroner, magistrate <i>et al. </i>This military and close social relationship with the extremely successful local brewer and maltster, Lieutenant Adcock - soon to be Captain - was destined to find him becoming his son-in-law when, on the 2nd June 1878 at the church of the All Souls in Langham Square, Marylebone, Lionel Powell at the age of 29 took 18years old Jessie Katherine Adcock to be his wife. Because of her young age, a special licence was acquired which was apparently readily arranged by the bride's father. Of this marriage, Michael Barber observes that financially, it made sense ...</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">' ... on the death of her father in 1890 Jessie inherited £16,000, worth over a million in todays money, some of which may have been used to buy The Elms, the large and gloomy house Anthony Powell remembered as a small boy. But in other respects there was a price to pay. Because of her father's accepted humble origins Jessie was not received everywhere in the country. Furthermore her character was remarkably different from her husbands. He was a hearty extrovert, happiest in the saddle or, latterly, at the wheel of Melton Mowbray's first car. She, by contrast, was lazy and imperious, reclining on the sofa all day with a risqué novel, but quick to impose her will on anyone within range. She was also a bit of a sorceress, skilled, like Mrs Erdleigh at reading the cards, and reputed to discomfort her enemies by means of spells.'</span></blockquote>
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The Adcock Family.</h2>
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Significantly successful in his many and various businesses, Jessie's father was also to share his time with a devoted attention to local civic and political affairs, along with his elevated position in Queen Victoria's Volunteers. His family had been established in the town at least back in the 18th century when a William Adcock was born on December 26, 1774. He was to marry Catherine Abbot who bore him three children between 1799 and 1802 and notwithstanding her sudden and early death, he next married Elizabeth Pickard with whom he had a further nine children over the following nineteen years between 1804 and 1823. His last born son, namesake William, was born in June 1821 whist the family was living in the nearby village of Whissendine which lies just over the county border in the 'smallest' English county of Rutland. In 1857 at the perhaps mature age of 36 years, William married Elizabeth Clark of Spalding in Lincolnshire. It was said about town that at the age of 36 he seems to have been too busy for matrimony, as from quite a young age he would pass all his waking hours setting himself up as a maltster in the general business of brewing and later, he would include the wholesale trading of cheeses as a sideline. Steadily and successfully he built up a small retail 'empire' of beers, wines and spirits outlets to sell his produce and trading his cheese in the public market place. His original business was located in the north side of Melton in Bentley Street and known as the 'Egerton Brewery'. In a short space of time, many people in the trade both locally and across the East Midland counties, became customers to whom he supplied his wares and increasingly he came to own outright, many of the existing licensed premises and even the small beer houses around, with the result that a lucrative monopoly became his own. It was these substantial profits which he would re-invest in purchasing whatever public-houses and food businesses might happen to arrive on the market and which were subsequently to number many. William was also well known and highly respected as a dealer in cheese and was an ever present buyer and seller at the local markets held in the open air in the Market Place, near to which he maintained a small office and store in the inn which is known today as '<i>The Grapes</i>' and then by its popular name, 'the corner cupboard'.</div>
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Along with this very hectic working life as brewer, accomplished rifleman, civil servant <i>et al,</i> he was considered a most important and respected senior officer of his beloved Melton Volunteers regiment, attaining the rank of Captain shortly before his retirement but William Adcock was to die on Sunday, December 21st, 1890 just one year short of his 70th birthday. Interestingly, I have discovered that another novel string to his busy bow, was his keen involvement in the very new art of photography, still a very novel art-form of the time at which he seems to have excelled. Archived documents and year books of the Royal Photographic Society, now held at Leicestershire Records Office, carry confirmation of his many entries, some of which being landscapes and still-life entries of creditable quality, are displayed as being prize-winning efforts submitted prior to the end of the 19th century. I do I feel justified here in sharing part of a lengthy address to Captain Adcock which was published in the town newspaper of this popular personality.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(From the <i>Melton Times</i>, Friday December 26th, 1890)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">DEATH OF CAPTAIN ADCOCK</span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> It is employing no mere figure of speech when we say that the news of the death of Captain Adcock, which became known on Sunday morning, has cast a gloom over the town, and will, we feel sure, bring sorrow to many a home other than those more intimately connected with the deceased. Captain Adcock was so well known in consequence of his connection with artistic, scientific and literary societies, and the prominent part he took in every local philanthropic movement, that his death must be regarded as an event of more than ordinary importance, removing as it does, from our midst, a personage who has, for some years, exercised a potent influence in the town and neighbourhood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> The deceased gentleman was a native of Melton, having been born in the year 1821. He was in his early youth a stationer, having been apprenticed to the late Mr. John Towne, with whom he formed a friendship which was destined to be life-long in its duration. He afterwards engaged in various mercantile pursuits, and was the founder of the now well known Egerton Brewery, so successfully carried on under the name of Adcock, Pacey and Co.. He rapidly rose, by his talents and energy, to a foremost position in the town, which he retained to to the time of his death.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> In politics, Captain Adcock was what may be termed a liberal conservative, and took an active part in the organisation of the party. He joined one of a company of eleven gentlemen who waited as a deputation upon the present Duke of Rutland, then Lord John Manners, to request him to allow himself to be put to nomination to fill the post of member for North Leicestershire, an incident to which he often referred. The last occasion on which the deceased took an active part in Parliamentary contests, was the occasion of the first return of the late General Burnaby, when, in conjunction with Mr James Morley, he was indefatigable in successfully canvassing the electors of the neighbourhood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Captain Adcock took a warm interest in the welfare of the local corps of , and was one of the first members to be enrolled on the formation of a company at melton. The idea of a volunteer corps at Melton was originated, we believe, in the dining room of Mr Wing, one evening, early join the year 1859, and a memorial was addressed to the Lord Lieutenant of the County, the late Duke of Rutland with the result that the corps was successfully formed. The Melton, or “C” Company was, as its distinctive letter implies, the third to be organised in the Country, that of Belvoir, “B” company, being, by a fluke, enrolled before it, and thus taking, in point of seniority, precedence over the Melton Corps. The utility and importance of the volunteer movement were not then recognised by Government so fully as now, and many of the early experiences of those who joined at the time of which we are speaking, would be regarded by the volunteers of these days as decidedly novel. At that time, the government did not provide rifles, and muskets were obliged to be purchased by members themselves. The first drills of the Melton Corps were held on a piece of waste ground at the back of the premises of Messrs. Sharman and Ladbury, now the site of the implement factory, and the first drill sergeant was pensioner named Huddlestone, representatives of whose family still reside in the town. The drills took place at six o’clock in the morning, and those who were unprovided with a rifle were compelled to be content with a substitute in the form of a broom-stick or something similar. But what they lacked in the materials of war these early volunteers made up in enthusiasm, and the Corps rapidly grew in number and importance.' </span></div>
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The Brewers</h2>
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The existence of the amalgamated skills of the Messrs. Adcock and Pacey business partnership is yet another significant passage of local history and the survival of their brewery venture remains well remembered today. To bring the story of the Company and the destiny of the partners together, I can say that in the summer of 1873, after two decades of trading alone, William Adcock announced to the world that he was to forge a partnership with Mr James Pacey, a respected farmer of nearby Garthorpe, from which came the business known as Adcock, Pacey and Co. Pacey was already a wealthy man and an established agriculturist employing several workers. He apparently had little or no prior interest or involvement in the brewing trade, but as a grazier he had acquired over his lifetime the ownership or tenancy of several acres in the area. In the ensuing years, several more farms were purchased by the partners and with little involvement with the Brewery, I can only surmise that Mr Pacey's priorities lay in the production of the raw materials required for the brewing - especially the harvesting of barley - at source. Minor competition in the local busy brewery industry did come from George and Henry Langton at Thorpe End who had taken over a small brewery founded by George Adcock in 1865 and as Langton and Sons, Brewers of the celebrated 'A.K Ale', they took over the business of Adcock and Pacey on the occasion of the former's death and the latter's retirement in 1890, but they too were to go out of business in 1910 when the bulk of their houses and breweries went to auction. None of the companies involved remain extant.</div>
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At the time of William Adcock's passing, James Pacey was to sell up his share of the business and purchase the substantial house and grounds known as <i>The Limes</i> at No.1, Sherrard Street where he was to retire with his family who were resident until the 1930s. This was a time when many of the large houses around the town became very expensive to maintain and as the country in general went into a severe period of financial restraint and worried over the increasing possibility of another World War. Several such dwellings became abandoned and deserted due to a reluctance to purchase and were left to the vagaries of the weather and the general passage of time, they faced the certainty of inevitable future demolition.</div>
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The land on which <i>The Limes</i> once stood was sold off after demolition in about 1932 and the wonderful old house was soon to be replaced by a contemporary faux 'Art Deco' style branch of Woolworths national retail stores, in modern times to be transferred to its present occupants, the Yorkshire Trading Company. Its once large and decorative gardens which could be spied through the railings of an iron gate by passers-by from the main street of the town, took up land at its rear to as far as Sage Cross Street to the east which was soon to sold and filled up with commercial buildings and the smaller houses which once lined King Street.</div>
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The Elms</h2>
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As the only child born to William and Elizabeth, Jessie Kate Adcock was destined to become heiress to a substantial fortune, although she is said to have taken only a small part in the running of the family business and on her father's death in 1890 it seems that she and Lionel with his medical practice, had little interest in the running of the brewery. They had two children, Philip and Katherine. </div>
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Just a short distance to the east along Sherrard street and on the opposite side of the busy road, another large house once stood in magnificent glory as a reminder of Georgian and Victorian times. Originally, known simply as '<i>The House', </i>it stood for over two centuries and it is difficult today for residents and visitors to Melton Mowbray, to realise that such a wonderful three-storey stately house with its beautifully manicured gardens actually existed there. For most people today it, or its memory, is known as <i>The Elms </i>and once stood in the very centre of Melton Mowbray at the point where today stands the semi-derelict, flat roofed and already decaying 1950s telephone exchange. The once grand gardens of large lawns and flower beds, together with an ice house and magnificently outfitted stables, now comprise the modern streets and dwellings of the Elms and Oaks Roads which contain many of the modern homes of townsfolk. In its heyday the gardens spread, manicured and painstakingly tended, to be bound only by Mill street and Brook street to the south. As a dwelling, <i>The House </i>was a very favourite hunting box in the winter months, as well as a residence to a series of top social people including Lord Markham and the Manners family of Belvoir. Around 1900, The House was purchased by Jessie Powell, more than likely with the proceeds of her father's will, it becoming the home of the Powell family for the next three decades. It was in this grand old house that their only son, Philip Lionel William Powell was born, who was to later marry and produce a son of his own who would one day become an internationally renowned author.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Elms, Melton Mowbray - circa 1925</b></td></tr>
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Anthony Dymoke Powell - 1905-2000</h2>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>Anthony Powell</b></span></td></tr>
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Here I refer to the birth at <i>The Elms</i>, on the 21st December 1905, of Anthony Dymoke Powell, C.H. C.B.E, the only child of Philip Lionel Powell and Maud Mary Wells-Dymoke. Maud was the daughter and heir of Edmund Lionel Wells-Dymoke, formerly of Grebby Hall, Lincolnshire and she would eventually move away from the town with her itinerant army family into a military world within which Anthony would travel to many countries. Spending his early days with his mother in Melton, he was, at the age of 10, to be educated first at Eton and then at Balliol, Oxford, following which in rejecting his parent's hopes of a military career, he was to take up the pen as his tool of work and be destined to become a novelist of some repute. He Married Lady Violet Packenham, sister of Lord Longford in 1934 and in 1925, following early moderate literary successes, he embarked upon the protracted production of his iconic 12 volume novel, <i>A Dance to the Music of Time, </i>an analysis of which and the biography of its author, is recorded by the aforementioned Anthony Barber<i> </i>in his '<i>Anthony Powell, A Life'. (</i> published 2004 by <i>Duckworth Overlook).</i></div>
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Another famous son of the Town!</div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-5806816065747913832017-02-23T16:04:00.001+00:002017-06-02T21:01:48.262+01:00THREE STICKS OF CELERY ...<div class="p1" style="text-align: left;">
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</span> <span class="s1"><br />
</span> <span class="s1">Deuteronomy 5:21 tells us: “<i>You shall not covet your neighbour’s wife …” </i>The following report appeared in a Boston, England, newspaper in 1887</span></div>
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<span class="s1">KISSING ANOTHER MAN’S WIFE.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">At Melton Mowbray Petty Sessions on Tuesday, before Mr A. Duncan, (chairman), Major Orme, and Mr R Dalgliesh.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Richard D—-, bricklayer, Asfordby was charged with assaulting Naomi M—-, married woman, of the same place on the 29th January. Complainant stated that on the day named, she went into defendants house which joined hers, to pay her rent. While there defendant gave her a box of figs, and as she was leaving he put his arms around her and kissed her. She went home and told her husband. In cross-examination by defendant, complainant says she ate some of the figs when she got home, and so did her husband. She knew that sounds could be distinctly heard through the wall, and she remembered on one occasion rapping at the wall to call her husband. She knew that sounds could be distinctly heard through the wall and she remembered on one occasion rapping at the wall to call her husband home when he was sitting with the defendant. George M----, husband of complainant, said he went to see the defendant on the following Sunday evening about the matter. Defendant said he did not mean any harm, it was only excessive. (laughter.) In cross-examination, witness said he only had one of the figs. When complainant went to pay the rent it was about half -past eight. Defendant said that might be, as he had two clocks neither of which would go. Witness, continuing, said it was not true that his wife had knocked at the wall for him. On the night he called on defendant he was sober. Some time ago he had presented defendant with three sticks of celery and defendant had returned the compliment with a large Spanish onion. (Laughter.) Witness had offered to make it up with defendant for a sum of money, but defendant had refused. The bench imposed a fine of 10/- and 11/- costs.</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">(Reproduced from the </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Boston Guardian</i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> of February 19th, 1887)</span><span class="s1"></span><br />
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</style>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-90970466496947443172016-10-22T22:14:00.000+01:002016-10-24T00:17:56.753+01:00LEICESTER'S FAVOURITE SON<h2>
Who's been eating all the Melton Mowbray Pork Pies?</h2>
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<span class="s1">I recently found this clip in the family notices column of the <i>Nottingham Review </i>of 22nd August, 1828</span><span class="s2">.</span></div>
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<span class="s3"><u>DEATHS</u></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i>‘At Hinckley, on Tuesday week, Mrs. Hopewell, wife of Mr. J. Hopewell, and widow of the late Simon Richards, aged 54. She was one of the favoured progeny of nature, and would have made an excellent companion for the celebrated Daniel Lambert, weighing, as she did, some time back, 24 stones! The width of her coffin, across the breast, was three feet.’</i></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">Leicester's favourite son for many decades - but now probably superseded by Gary Lineker - was <b>Daniel Lambert</b> who was born in Leicester on the 13 March 1770 into a family of gamekeepers, huntsmen and field sportsmen. By the time of his death 39 years later he weighed a massive 53 stones and his waist measured in at over nine feet. As a noted fan of field sports and an avid follower of the hunt, he is said to have been a regular visitor to Melton Mowbray. </span><i><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/leicester/content/articles/2009/06/23/daniel_lambert_feature.shtml"><span style="color: red;">BBC Leicester</span></a> </i>further tells us: </div>
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<span class="s1">' ... throughout his boyhood, Daniel was active, healthy, athletic - and slim. In fact, he was an excellent swimmer from the age of eight and taught many other children to swim in the River Soar. </span>His family background also meant he was a keen rider, spending much of his time galloping around the rural landscape surrounding Leicester. The history books tell of a time when, whilst out riding one day, he came across a wild bear which he punched to the ground, causing her to roar out in pain and flee. In 1791, at the age of 21, Daniel took over from his father as the Keeper of Leicester's House of Correction on Highcross Street and before long he'd earned himself a reputation as a benevolent jailer who took great care of his inmates' welfare, introducing a raft of improvements to the city prison which won him the respect of those behind bars as well as prison reformers of the time. Although this was the making of his career, it may have been the undoing of his health.</blockquote>
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<span class="s1">A Growing Lad.</span></h3>
<span class="s1"> In spite of not being a drinker or a big eater, within 11 years of taking up the job, he tipped the scales at a whopping 32 stone, with his office job blamed for his huge weight gain. </span>Philip French commented that it is believed he may also have had a medical condition that caused his weight. By the time he hit his late thirties he had swelled to nearly 53 stone, could no longer climb the stairs and special arrangements had to be made when he travelled. Just to finally set it in your mind, reporter Julie Mayer estimates that one Daniel Lambert equals seven of her! In 1806 the Stamford Mercury reported that Daniel was having a carriage made specifically to transport him to London where he intended to exhibit himself as a natural curiosity. He ended his days living in his London apartments where people would pay a shilling just to come and see him.<br />
When he finally died at the age of 39, the measurement around his calf was three foot one inch and his waist was a massive nine foot and four inches. He died at an inn in Stamford and his body had to taken out of the building by removing a wall. His coffin was built on wheels and it took more than 20 men to lower it into his grave. During his life he had become quite a personality, and was used in a cartoon as an emblem for a hearty Britain against the threat of Napoleon. Historians from Leicester have even reported that a waxwork of Daniel was doing the rounds in American museums not long after his death - such was his popularity!<br />
It seems that the interest around Daniel is still strong, with a number of people visiting the <i>Newarke Houses</i> just to learn more about the larger than life character. The museum has on display many of his possessions including a selection of made-to-measure clothes and a large chair.'</blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><b><i>Daniel Lambert </i></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><i>(13 March 1770 – 21 June 1809)</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><i> (Occasional visitor to Melton Mowbray - when he could find someone to take him!)</i></b></span></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-28959145076956560312016-10-10T01:14:00.001+01:002016-11-20T21:28:34.824+00:00THE 'SCALFORD MAIL'<div class="p1">
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The Strange Story of 'Sally' Jesson (1777-1852)</h2>
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<span class="s1"></span>The small village of Scalford in Leicestershire lies some four miles north of Melton Mowbray, a distance I might perhaps walk on a good day, but to continue on to nearby Goadby Marwood, a further two miles and with the thought of requiring to return on foot would test most people today. Not so in the middle of the 19th century when wheeled transport went by way of unpaved tracks and the ubiquitous footpaths which criss-crossed the rural scene through woods and fields and from place to place, served as the most direct routes for the many pedestrians.</div>
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So spare a thought for the poor rural postman of the time who did not have the convenience of an urban route in a town, with houses and businesses standing side by side, but who was required to deliver his packets far and wide in all weathers - and not with the little red vans which we see today. Their website, <i>'Heritage Royal Mail</i>', marking 500 years of serving the country, informs us that:</div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.8px;"><span style="color: #666666;">'In 1516, Henry VIII knighted Brian Tuke, the first Master of the Posts. This act was the catalyst for the creation of the Royal Mail we know today. Tuke had the influence and authority to establish key post towns across the country and build out a formal postal network. </span></span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 14.8px;">From these origins, the postal service has survived 21 monarchs and two World Wars, and employed hundreds of thousands of people. Perhaps its most famous innovation is the Penny Black stamp, introduced in May 1840. As the world’s first postage stamp, the Penny Black paved the way for the prepaid, one-price-goes-anywhere postage system we use today.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In 1852, significant changes were to be made in the national postal service and from that date, rather than travelling to the local post office to deliver a letter or parcel for onward transmission, a contraption known as a '<i>pillar box</i>' - made of cast-iron and fixed into the ground - was made available for the reception of mail for delivery; they initially appeared in a livery of light green paint. People who needed to travel long distances to a post office in order to send a letter, would now be able to walk perhaps just a few yards and pop it into the box - if it carried the required pre-paid stamp. These permanent containers place at the side of the road were emptied by the postal workers and the contents delivered on such a frequent basis, that a letter posted first thing in the morning could be read and a reply written, then posted by the recipient to be received within the same day.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">With this brief background of the postman's lot in the market town of Melton Mowbray in the early Victorian era, I would like to tell of an unconventional character who is now apparently absent from the knowledge or memory of local people. An amazing story unfolded for me in local newspapers of the day and I would like to recall and share the story of the odd life and times of long-time Scalford resident, Sarah Jessop which was revealed at the time of her death on the 17th October, 1852. There are two short newspaper reports, each a little different, which attracted my attention and which can best provide a contemporary account of the amazing life of this 'eccentric' character.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> 'On Saturday last the quiet little village of Scalford was the scene of some excitement caused by an auction sale of the goods and wearing apparel of a noted character named Sarah Jessop, who during a long life had plodded between that village and Melton, as the ‘Scalford Mail,’ wending her weary way in all weathers until old age and infirmities induced fears that she would die on the road. But the appointment of a Post Office messenger had of late superseded the old lady's self imposed duties, and she had ceased to be seen in Melton, whence, for more than half a century she had fetched letters for Scalford, and her good friends at Goadby Hall [at Goadby Marwood]. The articles sold consisted chiefly of wearing apparel, amongst which were 60 gowns and aprons, 6 bonnets, 30 caps, 6 shawls, 50 handkerchiefs and several cloaks, shoes and slippers. The sale attracted about 200 persons to see the last of <i>poor old Sally, </i>and pay a kindly tribute of respect to her memory, for with all her oddities she was truly trusty and punctual post-woman, and died at the hale old age of 75. The auctioneer, Mr. W. Clarke, with his usual jocularity succeeded in realising nearly £20 - a sum far beyond what was expected, for the friends of the deceased refused to furnish her funeral lest the cost of it should exceed the worth of her effects, and therefore placed the matter in the hands of parish officers.'</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Reproduced from the <i>Nottinghamshire Guardian</i>, Thursday, 28th October 1852)</span></span></div>
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<i><b><span class="s1"></span>The Leicestershire Mercury</b></i><br />
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<span class="s1">'SCALFORD. - <i>Death of an Eccentric Character.</i> </span></h3>
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There are few persons who have resided at or within ten miles of Melton Mowbray, during the last half century, but knew the eccentric Sarah Jessop, or, as she was more commonly called “Old Sally,” or the “Scalford and Goadby Walking Post.” She followed up that occupation, indeed daily for nearly 50 years, until recent alterations in the Post-office affairs at Melton when a postman was appointed. Such was her punctuality, that let come what weather it might, she was true to her time from Scalford at the Melton Post-office, and also to the time of her departure. For many years no carrier plied between those towns, and Sally has carried immense loads of goods on her head etc. and was regarded as one of the most wonderful women known. Since she has given up the “Post,” she has lived comparatively retired, at her native village, Scalford, in her own house. Her mother carried on a similar profession to her death, and various rumours were afloat of her having been a “witch.” Many anecdotes of her are still prevalent in this neighbourhood among those who lived in her day. The death of Sarah Jessop took place at Scalford, on Sunday, the 17th inst., after a few days illness at the age of 75 years. The eccentricity of her character, the willingness of her disposition, her punctuality to all orders entrusted to her care caused her to be universally respected; and her remains were followed to the grave by a very numerous assembly of all classes. It is estimated that during her public life she had walked more that 110,000 miles. The disposal of her goods and chattels took place on Saturday last by auction, when upwards of 250 persons were present. Among the articles sold were 60 gowns and aprons, 6 bonnets, 30 caps, 6 shawls, 50 handkerchiefs and several cloaks, shoes, slippers etc., which realised upwards of £20, a sum far exceeding the expectations of her relatives, who refused to furnish the funeral, lest they should not cover the expense, but left the parish authorities to manage it for them. She had been a saving woman all her life. and we hear that on removing her things, a few pounds in gold etc. were found.'</blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Reproduced from </span><i style="font-size: small;">The Leicestershire Mercury</i><span style="font-size: x-small;">, Saturday 30th October, 1852</span></div>
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Sadly, to date, I have been unable to discover much of the background of Sally and her family, but I would like to think that the people of Scalford would perhaps one day, be able to provide some form of tribute to one of their 'forgotten' parishioners - perhaps the naming of the next new street in the village to her honour - as a reminder of such an eccentric personality and a gesture of <span style="text-align: justify;">respect to her memory. If any reader does have knowledge of her existence, I would love to hear from them.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6cyjjMrlzhWtfuj-BsaLCu1iRtl2ZWIdOoaOzPhA_bDsFj6FtTDL2_j3p1JLQXqtEP_T-tblljr6Hia-4uW8LksV_k2wbLWkqGTtm9c_6IIsz_RMqWFFAh3lLw6OlqMvW0_AzFVWx5Fv/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-10-05+at+18.07.03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6cyjjMrlzhWtfuj-BsaLCu1iRtl2ZWIdOoaOzPhA_bDsFj6FtTDL2_j3p1JLQXqtEP_T-tblljr6Hia-4uW8LksV_k2wbLWkqGTtm9c_6IIsz_RMqWFFAh3lLw6OlqMvW0_AzFVWx5Fv/s640/Screen+Shot+2016-10-05+at+18.07.03.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #ea9999;"><a href="http://www.royalmailheritage.com/main.php#">Visit Royal Mail Heritage site</a></span></td></tr>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-8577143240549387342016-09-27T00:48:00.000+01:002016-11-07T14:35:35.211+00:00HIGH APOPLEXY<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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As a filler, from my regular perusals of the old newspapers, can I offer you this short tit-bit, clipped from the <i>Lincolnshire Chronicle</i> of 1823 relating to a moment of 'high apoplexy' on the part of its exasperated Editor: who wrote ...</div>
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'We cannot but be disgusted by the blasphemy and impiety to which some of our Whig-Radical contemporaries have recourse, in order to endeavour to weaken in men's minds the love of the church through the medium of exciting a contempt for its ministers. What can be more deserving of open and avowed indignation than the conduct of the editor of the <i>Mercury</i> in inserting into that journal the following vulgar and disgraceful paragraph:-</blockquote>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;">"John Rolf, bellows-blower at the Bath Abbey Church, completed his 45th year of office on the 25th inst. His salary is two guineas per annum: the bellows-blower in the pulpit below has </span><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;"><b>two thousand</b></span><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;"> per annum."</span> </i></blockquote>
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There is in political writing a certain allowed limit (too often, alas! overstepped) to the shafts of satire and it is with much regret that we see, by the present ministerial question for the abolition of church-rates, the affairs of eternity mingle with temporal matters: but can the editor of the Mercury, as a politician, excuse so vile an attack upon a minister of God - can he, as a <i>gentleman</i>, palliate so ridiculous and aimless an insult upon a man? As for the <i>value</i> of his insinuation, which would denote a vast quantity of of emoluments, it is too insignificant to attach to it aught but a conviction of the paucity and weakness of the arguments against a church establishment, when recourse is had to such a lame quiddit.' [<span style="color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>a quibbling subtlety</i>]</span></blockquote>
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O.M.G.!!<br />
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Or the following year, 1824, from the <i>Leicester Chronicle</i> of the 3rd July on a sad day for poor Mrs West:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UA1b1W6cEFglgPOupk5H7zIYraxNkkVv1u4Lp6uMseYerevi1G9AAp9gBDDaBxeGgyKxdTTCTttOsOexb_k8MSiRI294gYzIRrmwdbANxc42P6zt5L1NnjIUt4wi7ZtMnoN2IhAEX3YR/s1600/Dead+in+bed%2521L+CH+03%253A07%253A1824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UA1b1W6cEFglgPOupk5H7zIYraxNkkVv1u4Lp6uMseYerevi1G9AAp9gBDDaBxeGgyKxdTTCTttOsOexb_k8MSiRI294gYzIRrmwdbANxc42P6zt5L1NnjIUt4wi7ZtMnoN2IhAEX3YR/s400/Dead+in+bed%2521L+CH+03%253A07%253A1824.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-19142083821587386312015-10-11T20:14:00.000+01:002017-10-01T01:14:13.905+01:00A STATELY HOME REMEMBERED (I)FRAMLAND HOUSE - The Johnsons.<br />
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Recently re-visiting my rapidly increasing and creaking collection of photographs, I came across the above family image which brought back memories for me from some 50 years ago. My attention was arrested though, not by the people in the foreground (my wife with her father), but by the presence behind them of the rather grand looking, Georgian styled <i>Framland House</i>, as this old building was always known but is sadly now, just that memory. This once grand, three-storey residence stood elegantly for over a century with its ornate front door abutting Burton End at the foot of the 'new' railway bridge as it begins its rise on the main road to Oakham; immediately opposite and across the road, stands the old building now known as <i>Cardigan House</i>. The now vanished 'footprint' of <i>Framland</i> today relates pretty well with the entrance to the town Railway Station and the new Borough Council offices.<br />
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Seen on the <i>Ordnance Survey</i> map of 1895, the substantial dwelling is shown to be in three separate sections, all adjoined to a sizeable garden contiguous with a small public path which still leads pedestrians and small vehicles to the joys of the Play Close further on. I have memories of the decaying and abandoned home, which in its final years provided a haven for young children who seemed to have been free to wander about its spooky innards in a search for the reported 'ghost' which was alleged to haunt the crumbling rooms, peeling wallpaper, cracked paint, broken windows and all. Deterioration rapidly set in as the rain and weather permeated the structure via a roof now robbed of its leaden waterproofing and rotting windows. The abandoned gardens would later provide valuable space for a few rented allotment plots, eagerly utilised by an older generation of gardeners from which, no doubt, bountiful harvests were produced over the years.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Ordnance Survey</i> map circa 1895</b></td></tr>
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Thus far, I have failed to discover the date of original construction, the origins of its name, or that of the builder, but whilst waiting for someone to perhaps put me wise, I am plumping for a date of around the beginning of the 1870s. Though the characteristics of the house - especially the line of the roof and the style and size of the windows - might suggest a Georgian connection, I cannot accept that it was built as early as the 1820s. From what I have discovered, I currently hazard a guess that the first owner was most likely local resident, Robert Winter Johnson (1833-1884), builder and architect of some repute in his day who was later to be employed as Surveyor for the Local Board, later to become known as Melton Mowbray Borough Council.<br />
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Framland House on the left. Circa 1965.</h4>
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An attractive building aesthetically and perhaps, pleasing to the eye, it also possessed the somewhat severe lines of an public institution or civic establishment, it might well have stood much longer into the 21st Century in different circumstances but fate was to decree that <i>Framland House</i> would just about reach its hundredth anniversary before the wrecker's ball arrived to create extra width and public safety at an awkward part of the main approach to the busy railway station. I personally remember well a time in the 1970s when slates continued to fall from the roof and bad weather frequently caused chunks of rusting cast-iron guttering to crash down to the pavement to the obvious great danger of passers-by. Of course all this insecurity created problems of illegal trespassing and wanton damage which a boarded-up building always attracts. With the apparent difficulty of tracing a legal owner or someone responsible for its proper maintenance, the old unwanted building faced the eventual ignominy of a compulsory purchase order which accelerated its inevitable demolition. In 1976, another historic part of the old town vanished from the scene, together with its many secrets and some interesting moments witnessed. In the course of my research back over those 100 years I have discovered some most interesting facts about some of the people who once lived in the old house.<br />
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On the 15th July 1911, <i>Framland House</i> went up for auction but failed to reach its reserve price of £800 and it is reported that local property agent Shafto H. Sykes later acquired the property by private treaty and placed it on the rental market via Messrs. Shouler and Son, local Auctioneers and Estate Agents. A notice in the Grantham Journal was to offer readers:<br />
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<i>"A substantially constructed family residence, with yard, stabling and garden - comprising 2,800 square yards - in Burton Street near the Melton railway station. Contains 3 reception rooms, 11 bedrooms and a kitchen."</i></blockquote>
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As I have stated thus far, Robert Johnson is the man whom I believe to have purchased and almost certainly built, the house once know as <i>Framland House </i>in Burton End. Joseph Winter Johnson (1801- 1851) a surveyor, with his wife Mary, lived in the town where he was apparently respected for his abilities in the building trade together with his skills as a carpenter and builder. Four girls and one boy were born to the family and my first port of call is with that only son. Robert Johnson seems to have learned his father skills, likely as his assistant, but he trained as a young man in the professions of surveying and architecture and as such, in later years he was a much employed in the town, not only with his building work, but as a useful member of the Council, or the Town Board as it was then known.<br />
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In 1864 at the age of 31, first-born Robert married Anne Darley, a Wiltshire girl who was then living and working in Melton with her brother William Darley, a printer in the Beast Market - or as we know it today, Sherard Street. His father Joseph having then been dead for some 13 years, Robert had been living with his mother at the family home in Burton End and having taken over his fathers building business, he was by now a substantial employer of some 28 men. So times must have been pretty good in the Johnson household which then employed three servants to assist them. Robert's mother Mary was to die in the December of 1879 and it is more than likely that she would have passed her final hours in the new family home at <i>Framland </i>and it was here too that the next generation of Johnsons would increase their family to a grand total of four boys and two girls. It was also from here that Robert carried on his business as a surveyor and architect along with his other building interests and as an example of the sort of his work still to be seen today, I would refer to the old War Memorial Hospital on Ankle Hill which in 1874 was totally demolished and rebuilt as Wyndham House, the architecture having been supplied by Johnson. This was also a period when his civil services were possibly over utilised in his important work provided for the local town council, sitting on boards of all descriptions, working in the Magistracy and attending tribunals and the like where his expertise was frequently in demand.<br />
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Whether it was hard work, the long hours and the frequent calls on his expertise or some unrelated illness which brought a sudden end to Robert Johnson's busy and important life is not clear, but in 1884 a short newspaper notice relayed the fact to the people of Melon Mowbray that on December 4th, at the very young age of 52 - just one year more than his father - he had passed away, a tragic moment which was totally unexpected. During the following year after Probate was granted to his widow Anne to the substantial value of more than £15,000 (worth over a million pounds of todays money), Robert's widow would gather her goods, chattels and belongings and together with the whole Johnson family, decamp to pastures new in Hampstead, a very fashionable part of North London, where she purchased the very grand dwelling at No. 11 Belsize Square. Pretty well at a stroke, the Johnson connection was removed not only from the ownership of <i>Framland House</i>, but from the town of Melton Mowbray after an establishment of at least three generations.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheHLQsub2ug4x3sB7L_2Rm0Ufyw95zOjIAkOtTsVxcfRJfwZyuxS78O0ayhOLik8qCWsqDFSmu5vg3705HvMApFLeCPCwimKgnKnoS-X4gve1hyphenhyphenMTWD_OTiZl3s3BE150xsfeLRSaHf5W/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-09-02+at+21.16.03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgheHLQsub2ug4x3sB7L_2Rm0Ufyw95zOjIAkOtTsVxcfRJfwZyuxS78O0ayhOLik8qCWsqDFSmu5vg3705HvMApFLeCPCwimKgnKnoS-X4gve1hyphenhyphenMTWD_OTiZl3s3BE150xsfeLRSaHf5W/s640/Screen+Shot+2015-09-02+at+21.16.03.png" width="556" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">11, Belsize Square, NW3 today.<br />
(Google)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
No doubt living the life of an fairly young - and certainly wealthy - annuitant with an impressive pension and ensconced in one of the best of London's leafy suburbs, Annie Johnson did complete the raising of her 6 children, ensuring that her son Henry did not forgo his architectural studies and she was also to outlive her ancestors by reaching the impressive age of 90 before her death in Hampstead in December, 1923. But what of the old family home with its 11 bedrooms, stables and large garden left standing in the grounds of the railway station at Melton Mowbray? It might have been a snip at around £500 when she left and in fact was valued at some £800 when it failed to meet its reserve in 1911. In fact, the property, although never regarded as a noted hunting-box in the town, was occupied occasionally by winter visitors who temporarily utilised the attached stables.<br />
<br />
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
Henry Winter Johnson (1871-1918)</h3>
<h3>
</h3>
As a small and maybe irrelevant post-note to close the story of the Johnson family, I was pleased to discover that Henry Winter Johnson, fourth child of Robert and Anne, was trained like his father and grandfather before him in the classic profession of Surveyor and Architect. In the Spring of 1897 Henry married a Hampstead girl, Florence Mary Deed, who was to bear him just one child, Hester, and soon after he was to return with his family to the green fields of Leicestershire, the county of his birth where he would set up his family home, office and practice in the nearby market town of Market Harborough, some 20 miles to the south of Melton Mowbray. But I was sad to discover that like his father and grandfather before him, an early demise was to again to hit the family. Henry was to be damned with yet another truncated lifespan when he died in 1918 at the age of just 47 years. A small article describing his work in Leicestershire appeared in pages 26 -32 of the <a href="https://www.le.ac.uk/lahs/downloads/LeicestershireHistorian-Vol.3No.3-1984-5.pdf"><span style="color: red;">The Leicestershire Historian</span></a>, Vol 3, No 3 of 1984/5 which I reproduce below, with thanks to Leicester University:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #a64d79; text-align: justify;">HENRY WINTER JOHNSON, A MARKET HARBOROUGH ARCHITECT.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Geoffrey K Brandwood</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Henry Winter Johnson (1871-1918) was responsible for some of the more</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">interesting buildings put up in Market Harborough around the turn of the</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">century. He was the son of the Melton Mowbray architect, Robert Winter</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Johnson who had a busy practice in the 1860s and the early 1870s. He had been</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">responsible for at least eighteen (rather unappealing) church restorations in</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">the Wreake valley, the Melton cattle market (1870), Kettering cemetery, several</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">schools (e.g. Asfordby 1859 and Edmondthorpe 1863) and numerous other</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">works.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Henry was articled to Stock, Page and Stock in London from 1889 to 1894 and in</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">1895 became an assistant in the office of Gotch and Saunders in Kettering. In</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">1896 he went into partnership with Herbert George Coales (1863-1944), a</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">surveyor in Market Harborough, with whom he remained until 1916. Johnson</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">was the architectural talent in the business and Coales concentrated on the</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">surveying and civil engineering aspects. This partnership seems to have</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">worked well though the two men were very different, Johnson aspiring to</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">county society, Coales more practical.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">During the years around 1900 there was much scope for an architect in</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">Harborough. This was a time of civic expansion and new public buildings were</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">required as the following list shows. Johnson designed a number of good</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">buildings, notably the Grammar School and the Gas Offices. They are mostly in</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">a free style and make effective use of then current architectural ideas. His</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">fascinations seem to include segmental arches (e g the Post Office doorway),</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">interestingly treated heavy window surrounds (Gas Offices), bold parapets</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">(Fire Station), richly varied roof lines (Lubenham Hill residence) and big</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #a64d79;">limestone chimneys of enterprising section (Little Bowden School).</span></div>
<br />
At around the same time as the young widowed Mrs Johnson moved away from the town with her family, another doctor had arrived in Melton and settled into cramped premises in the High Street to practice his profession for a couple of days a week and also to fit in a little hunting when possible; at just 24 years of age, he was a recently qualified member of the Royal College Of Surgeons and would open up a surgery for a time in Framland House. The story of this new incomer, a Dr Lionel Powell, who was born in the Channel Island of Jersey and his period of tenure in Melton Mowbray at the large residence in Sherrard Street once known as '<i>The House</i>' (later to be renamed '<i>The Elms</i>'), will I'm sure fascinate you as much as it has done me; also, the equally absorbing story of the autocratic, socialite Soames family who were to make waves in the town right up into the days of the second World War during their tenancy of the now vanished <i>Framland House</i>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
____________</div>
<h3>
</h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-81892549505995735962015-08-03T21:33:00.001+01:002020-08-23T22:29:45.660+01:00DISAFFECTION!<h2><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE68P0iCv4V7oFuki-G2tQLQkcBrQivfLCepdD3n0tbHCgqHbHudqAIF_6DmVP4lfaIE3Qdaddlad-74DCCYcsnupOcxmh5Lm3_aN4zzP66LwM94VqQdRb13cKVrRthlZjPo55YPUVvNSf/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-10-04+at+17.58.49.png" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE68P0iCv4V7oFuki-G2tQLQkcBrQivfLCepdD3n0tbHCgqHbHudqAIF_6DmVP4lfaIE3Qdaddlad-74DCCYcsnupOcxmh5Lm3_aN4zzP66LwM94VqQdRb13cKVrRthlZjPo55YPUVvNSf/s640/Screen+Shot+2016-10-04+at+17.58.49.png" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>With thanks to Wikipedia</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table></h2>
<br /><p style="text-align: left;">
In a local newspaper recently, I came across an intriguing historic report of 'special' court proceedings which had taken place at at my local Magistrate's Court during the time of the 2nd World War. At the sitting, the evidence played out related to a seemingly trivial confrontation between a frustrated 'traveller' and a group of soldiers billeted in the town. Consequent research of the legislation allegedly breached on that occasion, opened up for me an extremely interesting period of political dissent at the time of the very birth of the Labour Party of Britain as we know it today. My intrinsic interest at the outset is the Melton Mowbray connection and the part that a few young soldiers played locally at the time of a great world awakening, but in passing, I would like to touch upon the interrelationship of the statute allegedly breached, with the ideals of a nascent political party proposing to represent the working classes and its acceptance by a then mainly Conservative population.</p>
From time immemorial, matters of creating disaffection - or unrest - within the military community and indeed, amongst serving police officers, had been dealt with under the <i>'Disaffection to Mutiny Act of 1797' </i>and in the early 1920s, National government began to talk of re-writing the script to at least soften the intended severity of the consequences of the act of mutiny, then a capital crime punishable by death. The legislator's were to become a little compromised however, when in 1924 the seditious and 'mutinous' intervention of the <i>'Campbell Case',</i> was to create great unease amongst political thinkers, not to mention the still powerful military machine of Britain. In its opening paragraph, <i>Wikipedia</i> explains the provocations of <i>Campbell </i>and its ramifications:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote>The Campbell Case' of 1924 involved charges against a British Communist newspaper editor for alleged "incitement to mutiny" caused by his publication of a provocative open letter to members of the military. The later decision of the government of Ramsay MacDonald to suspend prosecution of the case ostensibly due to pressure from backbenchers in his Labour Party proved instrumental in bringing down the short-lived first Labour government....<span style="text-align: left;"> </span></blockquote></span></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; text-align: left;"> (</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Campbell_Case" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;">read full article</span></a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; text-align: left;">)</span></blockquote></span></blockquote>
<h2 style="text-align: left;">
The New Act. </h2>
In the statute books of England, there remains today the infrequently used piece of legislation which first saw daylight in the austere times of the 1930s. Known as the '<b>Incitement to Disaffection Act of 1934 </b>(Chapter 56 24 and 25 Geo 5), it is described as:<br />
<div class="p2" style="text-align: left;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;"><i></i></div></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote><div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">'An Act to make better provision for the prevention and punishment of endeavours to seduce members of His Majesty’s forces from their duty of allegiance.' [16th November 1934] and Sec. 1. of the Act provides a 'Penalty on persons endeavouring to seduce members of His Majesty’s forces from their duty or allegiance.' - The Act further explains: If any person maliciously and advisedly endeavours to seduce any member of His Majesty’s forces from his duty or allegiance to His Majesty, he shall be guilty of an offence under this Act.'</div></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote>
<div class="p1">
</div></blockquote><div class="p1"><span class="s1"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<div dir="rtl" style="text-align: right;"><span class="s1">A very small Act in the name of King George V, it seems to have eased its passage through the Houses with few problems but a contentious reference to the potential power of the police to search the premises of likely suspects, did create discontent within the nascent Labour Party at whose conference of 1935, promises were made to remove the Act from the statute books as early as possible in the event of them coming to power. Parliamentary jousts in the <i>Times</i> newspaper of the day, record the disdain with which the Act was held, but as that newspaper records on the 17th April 1934, the voting was not even close.</span><br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;"> ' ... The critics of the Labour and Liberal opposition fastened on to this part of the Bill and denounced it as an undue invasion of private right. MR LAWSON had only contempt for persons who gave soldiers and sailors advice that would get them into trouble, but he declared that the Bill would empower a certain type of magistrate to treat the possession of literature, for example, on the Marxian doctrine and the Russian Five-Year Plan as coming within the scope of its provisions. Mr. DINGLE FOOT described the Bill as worse than the law of 1797 [mutiny]</span></div>
<span class="s1" style="color: #666666;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1" style="color: #666666;"> The second reading was carried by 277 votes to 63.</span></div>
<span class="s1" style="color: #666666;">
</span></blockquote>
As stated, assent was finally passed on the 16th November that year.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<span class="s1">MEANWHILE, OUT IN THE SHIRES!</span></h3>
<br />
In the early weeks of 1941 in the small market town of Melton Mowbray, the early unnerving effects of yet another world conflict had largely settled down, though preparedness remained the watchword as billeted soldiers from divers British regiments - not to forget the presence of allied American and Canadian troops - awaited whatever call to arms might be forthcoming. But not everyone was serving good King George in his fight against a dominant enemy across the water and as folk-lore tells us today, there were several of those who knew the ropes as to how to circumvent the earning of the King's shilling. The <i>Grantham Journal</i> of 31st January, 1941, published the following report:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2>
<b><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></b></h2>
<h2>
<b><span style="color: #666666;">HORSE DEALER GAOLED</span></b></h2>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">For Trying To Cause Disaffection</span></h3>
</div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Defamatory statements about the British Army and the Government were alleged to have have been made by Herbert Baxter, aged 39, described as a van dweller and horse dealer, of no fixed abode, who was sentenced to three months hard labour at a special court at Melton, yesterday week, when he appeared on a charge of endeavouring to cause disaffection among persons in His Majesty's Service in respect of three soldiers - Gunners G.A. Sullivan, D.L. Noakes and E.T.R. Smart.</span> </div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Gunner Sullivan stated that on January 15th, defendant came to the place where soldiers were quartered, and asked if they had a dog belonging to him. He told him they had not got one there, and defendant replied that the police informed him that he would be able to find it there. An argument followed, and accused became abusive and used bad language. In the course of subsequent conversation, defendant made slurring statements resecting the Army, and said that he would not go into the army and the Army would not get him.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;">SO DISGUSTED HE WALKED AWAY</span></h3>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">After referring to the fact that they (the soldiers), only got a shilling a day, defendant, witness continued, stated that he had 28 horses 11 dogs and plenty of cash. Defendant added that he did not care if "Jerry" did invade this country as he could not be worse off. Accused also made disparaging remarks about their rifles and ammunition, and went on to refer to a searchlight camp, which, he said, had been bombed, killing a number of people. Witness said they knew nothing about this. Defendant then said, "God save the King, but who is going to save me?" Witness was so disgusted he walked away.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Cross examined by Mr. J. Hincks, Leicester, for defendant, witness said later a sergeant came along, and ordered accused to go, as he was causing disaffection among the men.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Mr. Hincks: He did not cause you to be dissatisfied did he? - I'll say he did. How would you like someone to say that you are getting a shilling a day, and he has 28 horses, 11 dogs and £40 in his pocket?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">What this man has said to you has not made any difference to you in your loyalty to the Service? - It made me disgusted. Why should he, a man of everyday type, have more than me? Why should he say such things? Why shouldn't he be in the army?</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">He is 39.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Gunner Noakes gave corroborative evidence, and stated that defendant said to them, "What about you fellows earning a bob a day in a place like this when there are others at such places as Birmingham, Coventry and Sheffield earning £8 and £10 a week! What worse off would you be if Jerry got here? No good at all. What would the Government do for those who were injured? - Nothing." Witness said that he got so disgusted that he walked away.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Mr. Hincks: You took it all as ridiculous? - No, I would not say that. It certainly caused me to feel disgusted and dissatisfied. Defendant said something to the effect that he would not defend his own country, and that he would not work for a shilling a day.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;">UPSET HIS FEELINGS</span></h3>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Gunner Smart said that the defendant absolutely demanded the dog when he came to their quarters, saying the police had told him to fetch it. Defendant then went on to make serious allegations about the Army and the British Government, and added that if Hitler invaded the country they would not be any worse off.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Mr Hincks: You did not take any notice of what he said? - I came away disgusted. It upset my feelings to think that a man like that should speak so of his country.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">As a soldier you are just a good today as you were before he spoke to you? - Yes sir.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Didn't he say, "I am a loyal subject, and when my time comes for joining up I will go? - No, I did not hear that.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Detective Officer Jones gave evidence of arrest, and remarked that when the defendant was brought to the Melton police station he made a statement in which he said, "I would not have known what the soldiers got if they hadn't told me."</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Defendant on oath, stated that P.C. Haines told him to go to the soldiers where he could get his dog. He saw Sullivan, who denied that there was a greyhound bitch there. A few minutes later a sergeant came up and said, "there's no bitch here, you go and get a policeman." The sergeant never ordered him away. He stood talking to the soldiers for about half an hour.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">"I have no political views." observed defendant. "I am a British subject and when my time comes for me to join up I will go. I had no intention in my own mind of causing disaffection amongst the soldiers."</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">Mr. Hincks submitted that there was no case to answer. If anything was said it had made not the slightest difference to the soldiers and his client at no time had any intention of creating disaffection.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">It was stated by the police that defendant had 24 previous convictions against him since 1920.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #666666;">The chairman, Mr. R.W. Brownlow, congratulated the soldiers on the way they had given their evidence.</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
- 0 -</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Well, I was not quite one year old at the time that 'van dweller', Walter Baxter was sent away to spend his 40th birthday doing hard labour at Leicester prison, but from my lofty perch here and some 74 years further on, I hope that the sentence was not too onerous for him. I have reason to believe that he died in 1967.<br />
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-1284954793097551552015-07-12T01:03:00.000+01:002016-03-26T11:02:12.264+00:00DR. SAVAGE'S BERMUDA<div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Golden Days.</span></b></div>
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As is well known to almost everybody who knows me, I once spent six years of my now extended life in the small islands of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bermuda"><span style="color: red;">Bermuda</span></a>; six of my most impressionable years and very consequential ones in that I was married on 'the rock' and created there my two much loved children. It is also well known that although we left the island for good in 1969, I, like Sir George Somers - the founder of Bermuda - left a fair piece of my heart behind to maintain tabs with its progress. In October of this year, Lynn and I will return to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary, a chance for us to have perhaps a last look around at the island I once fell in love with.</div>
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But this post is not produced as a personal updating, more a moment to draw attention to the forthcoming publication of what promises to be a beautiful new book of sketches which relate to the early days of Bermuda's colonisation which has been put together by Dr Edward Harris and his team at the <a href="http://www.nmb.bm/"><span style="color: red;">National Museum of Bermuda</span></a>. Knowing Edward as I do, I can easily imagine his sheer excitement on first seeing the amazing collection of previously unseen sketches of his native island, some having been painted as long ago as 1834 and his immediate realisation of the massive significance of their existence and public exposure. This 'Savage' portfolio only very recently came into the public gaze from within the possessions of present descendants of the Savage family in England, who have kindly donated the collection to the Museum for the people of Bermuda to enjoy and to be enlightened of an earlier era.</div>
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I produce a description of the book's cover below, the front of which has a most evocative depiction of a tranquil Market Square at St Georges - in those early days still the capital of Bermuda - which iconic venue, graphically, is amazingly little changed and might well have been painted today. The blurb at the right I have reproduced below.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpjsgbswBttpF-gsApZfig4lQxpzxcCRU_grfQGMihhOfqahf9_4kwDWIWJwPMtVVT8nTbYfzhShGVHW5y02ItEc9NihC8KWujkgKpSd5EJ1vHx_5DSiJHdu8WuU9ZrkUeQ7KUbQajbZq/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-07-10+at+00.14.23.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpjsgbswBttpF-gsApZfig4lQxpzxcCRU_grfQGMihhOfqahf9_4kwDWIWJwPMtVVT8nTbYfzhShGVHW5y02ItEc9NihC8KWujkgKpSd5EJ1vHx_5DSiJHdu8WuU9ZrkUeQ7KUbQajbZq/s640/Screen+Shot+2015-07-10+at+00.14.23.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Front cover and spine of the book.</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">D<span class="s1">r </span>Sava<span class="s2">g</span>e<span class="s3">’</span>s Bermuda</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">The forgotten landscape of Bermuda in the<br />1830s is recovered in this remarkable collection<br />of paintings by the prolific and talented<br />Royal Artillery surgeon Dr. Johnson Savage.<br />These images—some of the earliest masterful<br />watercolours of the Island—were produced<br />before the perfection of photography and<br />ahead of later waves of overseas artists who<br />discovered Bermuda’s painterly paradise.<br />The paintings were the start of an extraordinary<br />relationship between Bermuda and several<br />generations of the Savage family. The volume<br />includes exquisite images from Savage’s later<br />posting in Corfu; his work as a skilled medical<br />illustrator; paintings by his short-lived Royal<br />Navy Midshipman son Arthur; and an<br />account of the doctor’s grandson, Arthur<br />Johnson Savage, RE, who completed the great<br />Ordnance Survey of Bermuda in 1900.<br />A final chapter traces the history of Savage’s<br />family, including present descendants who<br />donated the important Bermuda collection of his<br />paintings to the <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.nmb.bm/"><span style="color: red;">National Museum of Bermuda</span></a>.</span></span></blockquote>
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The back cover shows pen portraits of the three major characters of the Savage family, together with a sketch depicting the despatching of a whale.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How and Why?</span></b><br />
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The story of the acquisition of these exciting and precious mementos of a Bermuda of almost two centuries past, began in 2013 at a conference of surveyors in Britain which touched upon the Hurd geographical survey and the great 'lost' chart of Bermuda. At the end of the conference, a Peter Savage would step forward to tell of his personal possession of an album of water colours of the islands which were the work of his great-great grandfather, Dr Johnson Savage. The significance of this cache of artistic treasures became apparent almost immediately with the result being the publication of <i>'Dr Savage's Bermuda.'</i> in October 2015. From his weekly column, first published in the <i>Royal Gazette</i> of March 22nd 2014, let Museum Director, Dr Harris, explain:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Dr Savage's St George's walkabout.</b></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />One day in the three year period 1833-36, perhaps around the heady days of emancipation of the remaining slaves in Bermuda, the young Royal Artillery surgeon, Johnson Savage, set about on a walkabout in the parish of St George's, armed not with sword and musket, but with brush and paint, intent on capturing scenes, rather than enemy soldiers.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">When he left Bermuda in 1836, perhaps in the early summer, as one of his illustrations is dated to May of that year, the artist doctor took with him some 40-odd watercolours and drawings of the Island, a cache of images of local life that would become lost to memory in the Island for over 170 years.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">In later 2013, Dr Adrian Webb gave a lecture to a conference of surveys in Britain on his research and writings on Lieut. Thomas Hurd RN, the composer of the great Hurd survey and chart of Bermuda, another major work of art lost to Bermuda until Dr Webb brought it to local attention in 2009.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">At the end of the talk, he was approached by one Peter Savage, who told hm that his family possessed an album of watercolours of Bermuda executed by his great great grandfather.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">A further connection to Bermuda lies in the fact that one of Peter's grandfathers, Arthur Johnson Savage RE, was responsible for the Great Ordnance Survey of the Island that was published in 1901 and is still in print.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">A meeting was arranged through Dr Webb and in late November 32013, Peter and Rosemary Savage graciously met him and Dr Edward Harris (of the National Museum of Bermuda) at their home in England, for a walkabout of the album of paintings by Johnson Savage, at the end of which Peter announced that he and his siblings, William and Jenifer, wished to donate the album to the National Museum and in effect the people of Bermuda.</span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDibmAd7MnumwlUxgIltDA5O-Wp2Yrswa38OLkP6OntekGvfcDo-_bdoW3uyjzNkt8w9xqve9zbuI14_45-_cQoH6NmnPE2yB5WuuIC1510ydzUVgSN_B_BoJ8Z2Ct-GjMZ3Db5l06fnno/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-07-11+at+01.51.02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDibmAd7MnumwlUxgIltDA5O-Wp2Yrswa38OLkP6OntekGvfcDo-_bdoW3uyjzNkt8w9xqve9zbuI14_45-_cQoH6NmnPE2yB5WuuIC1510ydzUVgSN_B_BoJ8Z2Ct-GjMZ3Db5l06fnno/s640/Screen+Shot+2015-07-11+at+01.51.02.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><strong style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">Dr Harris, director of the National Museum left, with Major Peter Savage and his wife, Rosemary. </strong></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">The walkabout of the album followed a geographical roadmap, which started in the old capital of Bermuda at St George's and progressed westward via Ferry Reach to the Main and onwards, passing Somerset Bridge to the islands of Somerset and Ireland, the last being where the Royal Naval Dockyard and its major Hospital (naturally painted by the surgeon) were located.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">The images capture Bermuda exquisitely, as the good doctor was a most accomplished artist and draughtsman.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">The paintings will be published in a book in late 2015, partly in celebration of the fortieth anniversary of the National, that will also contain biographical and other artistic information on the Johnson Savage family and its long connection with Bermuda, as a son also visited the Island as a Midshipman and kept a log book that has painted images in it.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have assisted in a small way with the research of this publication and with the kind permission of the NMB and Dr Harris, I can reproduce a tiny sample of the </span>fine artistic work<span style="font-family: inherit;"> of Dr Savage which is to be found within its pages. I think these will provide a good idea of the quality of the many engaging illustrations which appear in the eagerly anticipated publication and will provide, especially for Bermudians who know their Island well, many hours of figuring out where these amazingly recorded locations lie in this 21st Century.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MBbQRbWOYd0/VaJLrWC_8kI/AAAAAAAADWU/4WhWL3I3D0M/s1600/011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MBbQRbWOYd0/VaJLrWC_8kI/AAAAAAAADWU/4WhWL3I3D0M/s640/011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYlBeZvKxZeV49KC2gQ2-4s_eHKT5GU7Boj3yJUdiEy_llOJvnRINM1yGE0YTWHmftGOOAZnpSO1UHytjK0JA0jS29BZYYEUuHW2DWHwQGQi5y4spOMfjKyZL6zGpYfQaw4z39WUzhLPj/s1600/013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYlBeZvKxZeV49KC2gQ2-4s_eHKT5GU7Boj3yJUdiEy_llOJvnRINM1yGE0YTWHmftGOOAZnpSO1UHytjK0JA0jS29BZYYEUuHW2DWHwQGQi5y4spOMfjKyZL6zGpYfQaw4z39WUzhLPj/s640/013.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nRHJwgCZ7liD8SWVZhXr3OvdbUUohcxyhUUIDstSRouE4lQahqBaOIFtRVLQ93onhjeOnZ-CEngehGaa3B3RRftgYmsASvHvC5t1rji3KU64KKntsiwa0fzOxsxyhAMWaw5JdPGeVPfY/s1600/022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nRHJwgCZ7liD8SWVZhXr3OvdbUUohcxyhUUIDstSRouE4lQahqBaOIFtRVLQ93onhjeOnZ-CEngehGaa3B3RRftgYmsASvHvC5t1rji3KU64KKntsiwa0fzOxsxyhAMWaw5JdPGeVPfY/s640/022.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I look forward to attending at the official publication in October, invited as I am due to a small personal part played in researching the project over the previous months. I am sure that the end-product will prove to be a best seller - and not only in Bermuda - as a reminder of how we once lived in the days before photography was established as the standard method of recording important moments. Whether the book lies on a coffee table or in a </span>reference<span style="font-family: inherit;"> library shelf, this wonderful gift of the Savage family will deserve its permanent place in the bibliography of Bermudian literature for the future education of all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">© John McQuaid - July 2015</span></div>
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<br />Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-42396838374662742642015-06-23T21:59:00.002+01:002023-04-26T15:29:08.969+01:00A POLICEMAN'S LOT ...<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">A Figure of Fun?</span></h2>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">When Messrs. Gilbert and Sullivan sat down to write the 'Pirates of Penzance', the comic aspect of the British policeman - or 'bobby' - as a figure of fun was to be cruelly exposed on the public stage</span><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> in an effort to show off the less serious side of law enforcement in Queen Victoria's often stodgy England. Premiered, surprisingly, in New York on New Years Eve 1879, it presented, in the true tradition of the now famous couple, it served to poke yet more fun at so-called respectable civilisation and to take away the rigidity and solemnity of people in authority.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-weight: normal;">I present this musical aside as an adjunct to an amusing newspaper article I recently unearthed in an old local newspaper and which, as a former police officer, entertained me wonderfully for a while. In 1893 in England, each and every one of the small villages in all the counties had their local constables who would totally rule the roost from sunrise to sunset, and frequently through the night. In the county of Rutland - the smallest in England - the village of Ketton was 'ruled' by police sergeant Henry Cross, London born, 33 years of age, husband to Eliza Ann and father of 4 years old Joseph William Henry Cross. On the evening of Saturday, 30th September at about 7.25pm, Sgt. Cross was just about to cycle into trouble!</span></span></span></span></div>
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</span> (Copied from; the <i>Melton Times</i>, Friday, Oct. 20th 1893)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">RIDING A BICYCLE WITHOUT A LAMP.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"></span><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">At the Oakham Petty Sessions on Monday, P.s. Cross, stationed at Empingham was charged with riding a bicycle without a light on the highway between one hour after sunset and one hour before sunrise, to wit at 25 minutes past seven o'clock on the night of the 13th Sept., at Ketton. - Mr. Atter prosecuted, and defendant pleaded not guilty.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"> <span style="text-align: justify;"></span></span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: center;">JAMES CHARLESWORTH, an ex-police constable, said he was at present working in the stone quarries at Ketton, and had previously been in the Rutland Police Force for four years. The previous Wednesday evening he was in his house at 7.25 when he heard a noise outside, and went to see what the disturbance was about. Before he went out he noticed the time by the kitchen clock, which was always kept by station time. When he got outside, he saw the sergeant coming along the road on a bicycle. Wm. Savage was by his side, and he heard him say to Cross "I will not let you ride any further without a light." The time for lighting lamps that night was 7.18. Defendant got off his machine just in front of witness's window, and Savage stood in front of the bicycle. Cross afterwards proceeded with the bicycle, the lamp still being not lit. - Cross-examined by DEFENDANT: When he was in the Rutland Police Force defendant reported him, and he resigned. The reason he looked at his clock before he came out was because he had to get a letter off by the eight o'clock post. He could hear some high words in front of Mrs. Clift's house. Savage stopped the machine by standing in front of it, but did not cause defendant to fall. He always compared his clock with that of Chas. Green, the signalman. He saw defendant go to one or two men who were standing by, and ask them to take notice of what was going on. Defendant did not ride the machine after he got past witness's window, but pushed it. He did not hear defendant tell Savage that it was not time to light up. - A youth named HARRY GREEN stated that his father was a signalman in the service of the Midland Railway Company. He was upstairs dressing when he heard a disturbance, and ran down to se what was the matter. He looked at the clock as he left the room. He never reckoned to leave the house without looking at the clock. It was 7.25. He was particular as to the time, because he had to meet the eight o'clock train. Cross examined: He did not know whether his parents were on intimate terms or at variance with the defendant when he lived at Ketton. Defendant had no light on his machine. He looked where the lamp ought to be, but could not say whether there was a lamp. Their clock was adjusted at six o'clock that evening. - By the CHAIRMAN: he was certain it was 7.25 to the minute - he might also say to the second.- DEFENDANT then addressed the bench, and drew attention to the relationship between himself and the two witnesses who had been examined for the prosecution. Chamberlain resigned the force because he reported him for neglect of duty, while as regarded Green he was always at variance with the youth's parents and declined to associate with them when he lived in Ketton. On the 13th Sept. he went to Ketton on his machine, on duty. He had been to Stamford in the afternoon, and whilst there he compared his watch with the Post Office time. When he arrived at Ketton he was met by Savage, who was under the influence of drink. Savage got in front of his machine, and refused to let him proceed without a light, although it was not time to light lamps. The man said to him "Who do you think you are. You would not associate with the like of me, when you lived at Ketton, and when you came into a public house you would not have a drink." Defendant afterwards went on to Mr. Stanyon's, and when he got there it was between 20 and 25 minutes past seven, the clock in the house exactly corresponding with his watch. - MR. STANYON was called for the defence, and said that on the evening mentioned he was sitting in the house watching the clock. He had an appointment at half past seven, and he always made a point of leaving at 25 minutes past when he went to keep it. When defendant came to his door, it was between 20 and 25 minutes past seven. He could not speak to the second as one of the witnesses had done. The distance from Chamberlain's house to his door was from 200 to 300 yards. He should say with the obstruction he met with, it would take the defendant quite ten minutes to get from Chamberlains house to his door. He heard the mob yelling outside about alight, and the scene was disgraceful. - Mrs. STANYON, wife of the last witness, corroborated, as did also a lad named Hastings. _ CHARLESWORTH, recalled, said it would not take more than three minutes to get to Mr. Stanyon's house. - The Bench decided to dismiss that case, no costs being allowed.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ketton Village, Rutland.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><i>William Savage</i>, labourer, Ketton, was then charged with being drunk on the highway at Ketton on the 13th Sept., and, further, with assaulting P.s. Cross while in the execution of his duty at the same time and place. - Mr Atter appeared for the defendant, who pleaded not guilty. - P.S. CROSS repeated the facts stated in the last case, and added that defendant assaulted him whilst he was proceeding with his machine. One of his arms was in a sling, but he pulled it out and said, "I can use this as well." Opposite to Mr. Stanyon's he threatened to put his fist in witness's face, and to put his foot through the machine. When witness went into Mr. Stanyon's, the man followed him into the house, and Mr. Stanyon had to request him to leave, and shut the door in his face. Witness afterwards saw defendant shortly before ten o'clock, when he was the worse for drink. Cross-examined: He could tell when the man spoke to him that he was the worse for drink. He had to be escorted home by two people. Mr. Hastings first said the man was drunk, but then went back from his word, and made another statement. - Mr. STANYON stated that when the defendant came to his house he was so wild and excited and dangerous that it was some time before he could get anything definite from him. If he had not been drunk he would not have acted in the way he did. He had several times to request him to leave. Savage was a man of common sense when he was sober, but he certainly was not a man of common sense on that occasion. If the man was not drunk, he would never again know a drunken man when he saw one, There was a crowd outside his house yelling. - Mrs. STANYON also gave evidence, but said although the man was excited she was not prepared to say whether he was drunk or sober. - Mr. ATTER having made a powerful speech for the defence, called several witnesses to prove that his client was not drunk. - A man named HIBBERT said although defendant was very excited he was perfectly sober. - Ex P.c. PELL stated that on the 13th September he was an officer in the Rutland Police Force, stationed at Ketton, when he resigned. On the day of the disturbance, at the request of P.s. Cross he went to different parts of the village to find Savage, and saw him in the Exeter Arms. He spoke to him, and would swear that he was not drunk. - Cross-examined by P.s. CROSS: He advised the defendant to go home, and he went to Mrs. Hastings. He stated that the man was neither drunk nor sober. - By the CHAIRMAN: The reason he advised the defendant to go home was because he was calling Sergt. Cross some very nasty names - a ------ monkey and a ------- scamp. The charge of drunkenness was then dismissed, but the Bench decided to take further evidence on the charge of assault. - Wm. CHARLESWORTH stated that no assault was made on Cross when he got off his bicycle. Cross coolly stepped off his machine the same as he would have done any other time. The defendant had his left arm in a sling, so could not very well commit an assault. - Fredk. FRANCIS, gardener, having corroborated, the Bench dismissed the case.</span></span></span></div>
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following that morning of high drama at the Petty Sessions, it appears indeed that a policeman's lot was definitely not a happy one. Henry Cross did not stay in the Rutland Police Force long enough to get a decent pension, as within ten years he was to be found pulling pints and acting as 'mine host', having taken over the licence at the Fox and Hounds Hotel in Exton. Later, whilst still running the pub, he was to operate an apparently successful business of coal merchant. </span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Young Joseph William Henry Cross, the couple's only child, seems to have emigrated as a young man and visitors to the church of St Peter and St Paul at Exton might be surprised to see amongst the artefacts displayed in the N.W. corner of the nave, a handsome carved wood funeral bier (trolley). Of curious interest is a brass plate attached to the bier which records the 'Death of one Joseph William Henry Cross, aged 29, in Calgary, Canada, Oct 1911' [Actually, Joseph's birth is registered at Stamford in the second quarter of 1889 , which would make him 22? ] He was interred at Exton churchyard in June 1912. This information is recorded by Tudor Barlow on the <span style="color: red;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/tudorbarlow/7759418874/in/photolist-cPF3U3-oUrEsq/"><span style="color: red;">'Flickr' website</span></a>,</span> who also adds the following note:</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bier inside Exton Church</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>"I don't know the full details but it would have been extremely difficult to repatriate a body in those days so perhaps it was his ashes that were returned. The bier was given by his parents for the exclusive use of the Parish of Exton. </i></span></div></blockquote><p><i style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: left;">I expect the locals were dying to use it!"</i></p>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Henry Cross died at the age of 59 in 1920 and his dear Eliza Ann lived on to the grand age of 89, dying in the Spring of 1952.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">An Excellent Website exists for the small village of Exton at <a href="http://exton.leicestershireparishcouncils.org/"><span style="color: red;">here</span></a>:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ENDNOTE:</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Just in case anyone is still interested, this newspaper was also reporting a good attendance at the ram sales at Leicester Cattle Market, where it seems that " they were in splendid condition, and found ready buyers." They went for a top price of £10.15s, down to a very low, £3.15s. Long-wooled shearings and pure-bred Shropshires all sold well.</span><br />
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-43454189878475320372015-06-23T00:52:00.000+01:002018-08-12T21:38:47.910+01:00MARY KIRBY - 1817-1893<h3>
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<span class="s1">Most people living in Melton Mowbray today remember an old house which until quite recently, stood unoccupied and rather forlorn at the side of Asfordby Road and abutting the local River Eye at the rear. Known to locals within living memory of its later existence as <i>‘Six Elms’</i>, they were also aware that amongst the previous and later residents were a Mr and Mrs Roper. Balanced - quite precariously it was discovered quite recently - on the steep northern bank of the River Eye as it passes through the green fields which once formed part of the land known as Wilton Lodge, the house was once a popular attraction in the summer months when rowing boats could be hired for leisure purposes on the river and canal encircling the adjacent parkland. The old Victorian house, with its lovely gardens leading to the banks of the river is sadly no longer there and in its place, as I write, is the embryo of a 96 room modern care home which will very soon take its place. <i>Six Elms</i> - or more formerly, 55 Asfordby Road - was demolished some four or five years ago, returning the steep sloping ground to its former contours, but the secrets and stories with which the house was connected are retained and recorded today as an intrinsic part of Melton Mowbray’s rich and interesting past. It is fascinating to have delved a little further into the records to discover the story of the house, its origins and its first residents and many visitors. Certainly not a mansion, this modest sized home did originally bear the appellation ‘<i>Rudbeck House</i>’, which reportedly once related to a small stream - or beck - which ran into the River Eye and the name is now retained in Rudbeck Avenue, just across the road. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"<i>Six Elms</i>' from the River Eye.</b></td></tr>
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<span class="s1">The construction and later existence of <i>Six Elms</i>, or <i>Rudbeck House</i>, retains an interesting enough history in itself but it is the original residents of almost a century and a half ago who are the main subject of my interest. In particular, I intend to recall the story of the fascinating life and times of Mary Kirby who was to become the wife of the Rev. Henry Gregg, vicar of nearby Brooksby and her inseparable younger sister Elizabeth with whom she successfully wrote and published several small books. Recently published in the United States, Bernard Lightman's scholarly tome entitled, <i>‘Victorian Popularizers of Science: Designing Nature for New Audiences’</i>, refers to the same Mary Kirby and her published literary contributions, which were used in the education of young people when he writes:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">‘… Mary Kirby (1817-1893) began her career as a popularizer of science after the sudden death of her father, John Kirby, a devout Dissenter and Leicestershire businessman in 1848. Due to business losses in the 1840s, John Kirby was unable to leave as much as he had hoped for his daughters. Mary and her unmarried sisters were forced to find work. In her autobiography she recalled that she and her sister Elizabeth “soon began to plot and to plan for book-writing.” Their first effort, <i>A Flora of Leicestershire</i> (1850, Hamilton, Adams, and Company), came out of Mary’s botanical interests. It catalogued over nine hundred flowering plants and ferns from the Leicestershire region, grouping them according to the the orders of the natural system while discussing their habitats and location. Mary, listed as the author on the title page, was the driving force behind the project. Elizabeth contributed the descriptive notes. Rather than writing more technical manuals, many of their subsequent works were more geared towards a juvenile audience. They adapted stories from the classics for children, wrote fiction and churned out a series of books on natural history. They became a writing team who worked from their home. In 1855 they moved to Norwich and hooked up with the publisher Jarrold, who invited them to write what would become Plants of Land and Water (1857) for his “Observing eye” series. Besides working with Jarrold on subsequent projects, their natural history books were published by T. Nelson and Sons and the Religious Tract Society. In 1860 Mary married the Reverend Henry Gregg. Elizabeth lived with the Greggs in Brooksby, Leicester, a small village in a rural parish. The sisters continued to write together until Elizabeth's death in 1873. Over the course of their careers they wrote over ten natural history books, many of them selling well enough to call for more than the first edition. <i>Stories about Birds of Land and Water </i>([1873], Cassell), the last book they wrote together, sold 18,000 copies.’</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Notwithstanding her twice widowed father's fears and dark premonitions as to what quality of future he might be able to provide for his children, it seems that his eventual demise in 1848 at the age of 67 would create fewer problems than he might have feared, as his daughters especially, had created their own provisions for the moment. Mary, as the second born sibling of six, was to emerge as the guiding and matriarchal figure in the family and without doubt she led a most interesting and varied life. Well travelled and self-educated at divers places of learning around the Leicester area and beyond, she was to be an early torch-bearer for the feminist agitators who awaited in the years ahead; indeed, in her autobiography and long before the arrival of Mrs Pankhurst <i>et al</i>, she was to write on the subject of making an independent living as a woman: </span><br />
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<span class="s1"><i>' ... earned money seems always the sweetest and best of any; and we were glad to find a ready sale for our manuscripts, and also to put the profits into our pockets... we wrote a piece once of what would happen a hundred years hence; how the men would be thrust out from all the professions by the women, and even the government of the country would be carried on by women, and in the houses of parliament there would not be a man to be seen.'</i> </span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">Her personal journey through life, which was destined to be truncated due to a lingering and debilitating illness which would plague her final years, was faithfully recorded in a journal which she had taken over from her father on his death and in which she continued to report the comings and goings of the family until the time of her own death, was published in 1888 as a public document and bears the title, ‘<i>Leaflets From my Life: A Narrative Autobiography</i>’. It is a fascinating discourse on local life in days gone by and is today easily found on the internet to download or read at leisure; a pursuit I would heartily recommend, especially to Meltonians, as being a highly illustrative pastiche of domestic, country life in the heyday of Victorian England.</span></div>
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<b>Mary Kirby (1817-1893)</b></h2>
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Early Days</h3>
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In a paper kept at the <i>Leicester University</i>, David L. Wykes has traced the early years of the Kirby family of Leicester via a personal journal maintained by a John Kirby who was born in 1781 and who was one of 15 children. This large family was involved with both farming on the north side of Leicestershire and banking, but as a child of apparent ‘delicate health', and with a surfeit of available hands to assist on the land, his father - Thomas Kirby (1753-1826) - was to steer John into the hosiery business for which the prosperous borough of Leicester was then well recognised and established. Learning his trade in Cosby, Lincolnshire from the age of 16, he was wholly unsuccessful in his travails as he moved from place to place and so it was almost certainly a red-letter moment in his life when in the February of 1807 at the age of 27, he was to marry Mary Ellis whose family were also a part of the hosiery trade. It was conjectured that this union would enhance his future prospects in the world of business and soon the couple had set up a home in Cank Street, Leicester and although never actually affluent in the true sense of the word, their status in the Borough was said to be comfortable. Sadly though, this marriage was to end without warning after just four short years when Mary died at the age of 29. A son, John, had been the only child born to this marriage in 1809, but he did not survive. In October 1812, John Kirby would marry again.<span class="s1"></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Sarah Bentley was to be his second wife and five children were to be born. Sarah Bentley Kirby was the first in 1812 to be followed by Mary (1817), a boy, Thomas Bentley Kirby arrived in 1819, followed by Katherine (1822) an bringing up the rear, Elizabeth in 1823. Their father was however, almost permanently beleaguered mentally by a great personal fear of his ability - or inability - to provide sufficient income in his business to properly support and provide a decent social existence for his growing family and this angst seemed to have caused him to vacillate between bouts of good days and very bad ones. His responsibilities to the distaff side of his family, the future of his four young girls, seemed to have weighed heavily on his mind, as this entry from his journal might suggest:</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">‘On a review of the state of my affairs I find that while my property is diminishing, my family is increasing, I am therefore making progress towards Bankruptcy which is a galling idea and calls imperiously on me for greater economy, and self denial in all the luxuries of life. I am therefore most resolutely determined in the present year to retrench every avoidable expense, to study and practice the most frugal methods of housekeeping.’</span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">This realisation was likely to have been expressly cogent in light of the fact that the reality of such impecunity amongst his charges might well hinder the girls' future selections of potential partners. As Bernard Lightman conjectures in his book, the situation would go some way to account for the later independent success of each of the girls, who would strive to seek remunerated occupations as a means of independent support, rather than to sit about the drawing rooms of the large houses, just looking pretty and hoping. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">In 1825, John Kirby purchased a house in nearby Friar Lane, in the large garden of which he would build a two-storey warehouse and this address was to become the family home until his death and beyond. His financial anxieties turned out not to manifest themselves quite as severely as he had consistently feared as we learn that his only son, Thomas, did indeed become financially independent of the family and was to helpfully detach himself from inheritance of the hierarchy at an early stage in his life. In the meantime, his sisters would move about the country managing to secure suitable employment for themselves. John's second wife Sarah was to die in 1835 at the young age of just 45 years and the girls, all still young would hopefully have taken heed of what she had taught them thus far. Her namesake and eldest daughter, notwithstanding brother John's declared disinterest in any family benefaction, was not to command the inheritance of the estate when their father did eventually die in 1848, when it was generally agreed that Mary Kirby would legally - or by arrangement - inherit the family home in Friar Lane which would be rented for future income. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">It was Mary, acting as matriarch and her youngest sister Elizabeth, who were to become the true entrepreneurs and leading lights of the Kirby family - although all four girls married well and led lives worthy of being retold in print - with their later production of literary works. Mary was to provide the wide scope of knowledge with Elizabeth providing much of the text and at the same time bringing in to service her undoubted talent as an artist in illustrating the mainly educational works. Mary, in her travels about the country, had developed a life-long interest in and detailed study of the natural life of the flora and fauna, animals and birds which were common to the fields and gardens of everyday England, not to mention a later diversion on a discourse of the animal life in far off lands. Initially putting their stories together for personal use in the classrooms and nurseries of friends, the reportedly 'jolly little books' were soon to be taken up by hungry publishers, ever keen in the early Victorian days to source new and interesting literature for an ever growing market of children who were by now attending the burgeoning new national schools in ever increasing numbers. </span>To learn more of Mary Kirbys life, I have already suggested her extremely interesting and informative diary, published under the title, ‘<i>Leaflets From my Life: A Narrative Autobiography</i>’ (1888) and I can also point to the <b>Oxford Dictionary of National Biography</b> in which Canadian feminist writer Ann B. Shteir has contributed an entry. On the subject of the literary efforts of the two women, Ms Shteir writes:</div>
<div class="p2">
<br />
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">‘Mary and Elizabeth Kirby worked as a sisterly writing team for twenty-five years, and produced a steady stream of more than twenty-five publications that included illustrated books, serial tales for magazines, school books, and fiction of an improving kind. In The Discontented Children, and how they were Cured (1854), their first original story book, the children of a gentleman and a gamekeeper are given the opportunity to experience each other's lives; the rustic children, restored to their parents after adventures and hardships, were ‘only too happy to find themselves once more among their equals and in their proper station’. The second edition, in 1859, contains illustrations by Phiz. Their natural history books, written principally for young readers, were informational rather than moralizing. Plants of the Land and Water (1857), one of two of their books issued in the Observing Eye series, presents botanical information and ‘curious facts’ about the uses of plants, in the form of ‘Short and Entertaining Chapters on the Vegetable World’. Their books on insects were Caterpillars, Butterflies, and Moths (1857) and Sketches of Insect Life (1874). The Sea and its Wonders (1873), with short informational chapters on topics such as the Gulf Stream and the turtle, aimed to ‘allure’ the young reader to study ‘the great book of Nature, rather than to perplex him with a strictly scientific arrangement’. Chapters on Trees (1873), a ‘Popular Account of Their Nature and Uses’, aims for a general rather than juvenile readership, and is well stocked with botanical information as well as history and folklore about trees from around the world.’</span></blockquote>
<div class="p2">
<br />
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1">Following the death of their father on the 28th October 1848 at the age of 67, Mary and Elizabeth were granted two years of rent-free living in the family home in Leicester at Friar Lane and following the decision by her now successful brother Thomas to waive his rights of inheritance, they later obtained the freehold to secure their roots for a few more years. With their successful and profitable venture into writing they were able to maintain at least a comfortable life style. Working as a competent team for more than 25 years they produced a steady average of one book per year, m</span>any of which are still available today with original copies ostensibly fetching a good price. During the 1850s Mary and Elizabeth Kirby travelled about the country more and more, living for spells of time in Norwich and Great Yarmouth, but it was also around this period that sister Elizabeth was to display her more obvious and frequent signs of delicate health to which the supporting and loving care of her sisters became more apparent. Through all of this the co-authors were able to maintain a regular writing schedule, but it was also about this time that Mary, seemingly passing beyond her best courting years, was to face a more serious personal distraction when Cupid came to call.<br />
<br />
<h3>
The Reverend Henry Gregg</h3>
<br />
During her time spent in Norfolk during the 1850s with Elizabeth, Mary Kirby was to renew acquaintances with a man of the cloth which had originated in her own county of Leicestershire. The Reverend Henry Gregg was born in 1820 of a reportedly 'working-class family' in the village of Harby, which lies in the heart of the Leicestershire Vale of Belvoir ('Beever' as we locals strangely pronounce it!). From the days of his early youth his simple faith and trust in his Lord had led him to work away from home in the very poorest parts of London including Hatton Park and Finsbury. Attending at Kings College, London, Henry passed the required examinations and soon took up his first curacy with the Rev. Robert Montgomery, incumbent of the Percy Chapel in Hatton Garden. In the 1850's he worked as a scripture reader and for six years as such, he is said to have worked tirelessly with people of the lowest and deprived parts of the capital, but the working friendship came to a sad end after six eventful years with the untimely death of his protege. Henry returned to the county of his birth to become curate of Hoby-cum-Rotherby.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Marriage ...</h3>
<br />
From Hoby in 1859, Henry was to transfer to the ancient city of Norwich where he took up a curacy at St Michaels and it was here, in the 40th year of his life, that his acquaintance with Mary Kirby took a more serious turn. Of this period Mary writes in her autobiography:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /><span class="s1"> ‘On Friday we had an equal number of visitors, and Mr. Gregg came in, in good time for tea. I set Miss W. a chair beside him; thinking of course, as her uncle lived at Rotherby, she would have plenty to say about Hoby, and Rotherby and Frisby, and all the poor people and gentle-people those villages contained.</span><br /><span class="s1"> But no such thing; she very soon come whispering up to me to say, she could not get on with Mr. Gregg, for she did not know what to talk about. Of course, I had to change places with her and come to her assistance.</span><br /><span class="s1"> We opened a conversation on the book he had borrowed “Lucy Neville”; and after a few compliments had been passed on it, he said he should like to send a copy to his sisters, if we could let him have one.</span><br /><span class="s1"> And so he called the next day, and we had the pleasure of seeing him many times, without having any idea of an attachment.</span><br /><span class="s1"> We know it to be a fact that marriages are made in Heaven; and so it is, when two persons intended by the “higher powers,” to come in to that sacred relationship to each other, meet in the social circle, they are drawn, as if by an invisible hand, or supernatural sympathy, together.</span><br /><span class="s1"> And so it was - every time Mr. Gregg and I met, we felt that mysterious influence - call it what you like - I will call it <i>love</i>!</span><br /><span class="s1"> On the highest authority we are told, that “Love is of God,” for “God is love”; and therefore we cannot estimate too highly the joy and happiness of loving and being beloved.</span><br /><span class="s1"> One fine morning in May, Mr Gregg came in, to call at the cottage, and I had an instinctive feeling of what he was going to say, and that he was about to make me an offer of his heart and hand.</span><br /><span class="s1"> And so it came to pass - and he had not been long with me before words were spoken, and vows exchanged, which were to bind us together for our lives, - or more correctly speaking “until death should us part.”</span></span></blockquote>
And later ...<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> 'On the first of August, 1860, as early as eight o'clock in the morning, we had a very quiet wedding in the little church of Higham, a hamlet of Norwich, and a half mile from the cottage, although I suppose we must have lived in the parish.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> I was taken by Dr. Holland, according to his promise, in his brougham, and with a pair of fine horses, while in the second carriage, came Elizabeth the bridesmaid, and Mr. Gregg.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> The incumbent the Rev. Hoste, was ready waiting for us; and he laid the ring upon the book, and everything was done, as Mr. Gregg observed, "properly and in order."</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> As we stood at the alter, I felt an overpowering sense of gratitude to the Almighty, for having protected us from so many dangers, and guided us though so many difficulties, and now "He had set our feet in a large room."'</span></blockquote>
<h3>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">... And a Rectorship.</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was to be a short sojourn in Norfolk following the marriage and a joint - even three-way - yearning for a return to pastures best known to the three of them would soon see the newly-weds returning to Hoby along with Mary's younger sister Elizabeth, who was never to marry. Sadly, the early days of this marriage were not to be as wonderful as they might have wished, it being marred with problems encountered by Henry's many temporary and sometimes distant curacies causing Mary to become increasingly anxious, for him "... not to take another, but to find a living, and be his own master and enjoy a permanent home." Fine words and thoughts, but Rectorships were attainable then only to those who had the means and the money as well as an agreeable social situation. Henry's own family were very low down in the social pecking order and the question of any family inheritance was but a pipe-dream and notwithstanding that Mary's father had not in fact died impecunious, the Kirby</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> wealth, already divided, would not stretch this far. But a minor miracle was about to occur when a letter was received in Norwich from the Squire of Brooksby, apprising Henry of the recent death of the Rector of Brooksby; a jovial postcript to the letter read to the effect that he might be advised, 'to look about for a young lady to come with him as his wife - and who knows? perhaps to buy the living for him!'</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The arrival of this letter is said to have created much excitement within Mary's troubled mind and to her great surprise, no one was more excited at the prospect of a settled and stable living than her younger sister and partner-in-writing, Elizabeth, who was to set in train a financial plan to make the dream come true. As Mary further explains in her journal:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">'... Meanwhile, Elizabeth had not been idle in making enquiries about the Brooksby living, and her letters to the lawyers had been flying through the post, like so many arrows flying through the air. And she began to suggest the subject with Mr. Gregg himself, who felt delighted at so fair a prospect opening unexpectedly before him. He was in ignorance of our resources, and never for a moment anticipated our being able to lay down the sum required for the living. But Brooksby was the very parish in all England he would wish to have, and to be brought again amongst the people who were attached to him, and who he knew so well. Like many clergymen, he understood little or nothing of business, and did not care to enter into the discussion of of pounds, shillings and pence; indeed after his marriage, the whole management of the money matters devolved upon me, and he never wished to know anything about them. But Elizabeth was keen to get things settled and as soon as she thought it prudent to leave me, away she went to Leicester, to Samuel Stone, the family lawyer, and put the affair in his hands; telling him, that she held herself quite ready and willing to sign conjointly with me, any deed of mortgage that might be required on the Friar Lane property. And then, she stayed at my brother's in West Street, until the arrangements had been made, and the important business successfully carried though.'</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And so, pretty well in a nutshell and certainly in extremely fast time, a package was devised and arrangements were to become '<i>fait accompli</i>'. With the estate inheritance - including the family home in Friar Lane - together with personal savings and a collection of 'family jewels' all brought together, the proceeds were utilised to purchase the living at Brooksby. With all of the Kirby siblings apparently rising to the occasion in order to raise the social profile of Henry Gregg and his new wife, this amazing effort must rate as a very magnanimous gesture and such a situation could hardly be envisioned in modern-day ecclesiastical life. The upshot was that on the 20th August 1960, the Bishop of Peterborough (Bishop Davies) was to officially announce the institution of Henry Gregg as the new Rector of Brooksby - Rector! an almost impossible dream had surely come true - perhaps even a miracle?</span><br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">____________________</span></h2>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">BROOKSBY</span></h2>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">We are sometimes told in life, to be 'careful what we wish for' and this might have been the case for the Kirby sisters and the Rev. Henry Gregg during those early days of their return 'home' to Leicestershire. Mary writes profusely in her journal, along with gay descriptions of Brooksby, of a wonderful reception at the Hall, with parties, dances and receptions to welcome the return of the new rector and his lady wife. Henry was soon to rekindle his relationships with most likely every person in the three parishes from whom he had not that long since waved his goodbyes. But within the reality of their grand achievement in settling in the area that they had coveted so much, lay the very awkward truth that the there was no rectory house to go with the living of the church. The incumbent residents of Brooksby Hall, a Mr and Mrs Charlton had opened up their large house as a welcoming gesture and further to offer it as a temporary residence for the incomers. But this was not what any of them had visualised for their new life and very soon, a family residence, <i>a trois,</i> was eagerly being sought, as Mary records in her book:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">"We had already driven over to Melton, and found there was no house to be had there, except in the Market Place, and that was out of the question. And now, Mr. Charlton drove us over to Syston, in the waggonette; and though the village seemed to me a wild and uncouth place, I had to make the best of it, and consented to live there, in the house on the Barkby Road."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mary's best however, was unfortunately not to be good enough, but in defiance of her instant aversion to the area, she explains the saving grace of Barkby Road as a home, in assuring that once more, at the least;</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">"We were together as the 'threefold cord,' as Mr Gregg had more than once referred to them. And it was enough, she said, "since love spread our table, and presided at our board." </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The writing continued and for a while, domestic bliss ruled the day with the ladies scratching out a living with their books and pamphlets and visiting local schools to address the children, whilst Henry carried out his parish duties with his usual loving zeal and his special attention to the less well-off, not to mention his added responsiblities as Chaplain to the Melton workhouse.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<h3>
<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Syston - the Rev. Edward Morgan.</span></span></span></h3>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">It was a serious set-back in Mary's organised life which was to pave the way for the family's eventual re-location to Melton Mowbray, an event which was related to her husband Henry in his new posting. Within weeks of their arrival back in </span></span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">Leicestershire</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> and their </span></span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">resettlement</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> in lodgings at Syston, Henry was persuaded by the incumbent vicar of that parish to fill in a few shifts for him to cover his occasional absences. Under the heading, <i>'The Vicar and his Carpet Bag'</i> she writes,</span></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> 'The first question asked by those who settle in a new place (particularly in a village) is this - what about the </span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">clergyman</span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">? - is he a good man? And then follows another query - is he a pleasant man? For religion being crafted on a crab-stick, the two are not </span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">necessarily</span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> combined. The Vicar of Syston was the Rev. Edward Morgan; and when we arrived, he was on the </span></span><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">continent.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #252525; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545440673828px; text-align: justify;"> A farmer in the village, farmer Bennett, whose services with horse and cart, we had been glad to enlist, told</span><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545440673828px; text-align: justify;"> us that when the vicar was first appointed, evangelical clergymen were scarce; and a crowd of the parishioners met him halfway on the road to Leicester, with flags, and a band of music, to give him a cordial reception. But by this time, the people had become tired of him, for he was very old, and had been the</span><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545440673828px; text-align: justify;"> Vicar nigh on fifty years. And then we heard about Mrs. Morgan, whose death, some few years back, had been felt as a great loss, both to rich and poor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #252525;">
</span><span style="color: #252525;"></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> Mr. Bennett went on to tell us, that whenever the Vicar found himself in any perplexity ("muddle" was the word) he always took up his carpet bag, and departed. At the present moment he had come to a deadlock with the Wesleyans. He had been conducting meetings, for united prayer, in the church school-room, and on his invitation, the Wesleyans had attended them; but when the return invitation came, and he was asked to join them in their meetings</span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">, conducted by their own ministers, in their own room, - here was the difficulty.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #252525;">
</span><span style="color: #252525;"></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> What could he do? He could not go, and he could not refuse; so he had discreetly taken his carpet bag, and was off on the continent.'</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #252525;">
</span></span></blockquote>
The dissenters were not to be shaken off too easily though and even after long periods of absence, mobs, often unruly and occasionally violent, dogged the good reverend's fading years and took advantage of his increasing old age and weakness to press their Wesleyan views. In the meantime, Henry took in the slack and covered his ecclesiastical duties parallel with his own work and that of many others who were often happy to take advantage of his kind disposition. It was a situation that they could and would not, tolerate for long and the crunch time was to arrive in in the shape of a particularly frightening incident which she describes thus:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">"Mr Gregg and I had been one Saturday, to Leicester; and walking home from the station, we saw before us, the Vicar and a common looking man, - I cannot mis-apply the term gentleman. They walked quicker than we did, and were evidently going on to the vicarage; when Mr. Morgan turned round, and catching sight of us, left his companion, and came to meet us.<br /> I had a suspicion of who the 'man' might be, so I enquired, and was informed that he was no other than the curate! "That man! I exclaimed, he is no clergyman - he looks more like a ticket-of-leave man!" And then I begged that he would not bring him to our house, as I would have nothing to do with him. We very soon found out what sort of person had come to the village; for he began to frequent the public houses, and to associates with the lowest characters in the place.</span></blockquote>
Within a very short time of Henry having withdrawn his assistance, this new man took charge of the day-to-day running of the Syston church, at the same time drawing towards him some pretty rough people from all around. Dear old Rev. Morgan was pretty ineffectual in maintaining his badge of office and Mary tells of the day when things were to come to a head when, about noon, her household equilibrium was disturbed by the sound of an unruly mob outside. From the secure confines of her room she describes the scene that confronted her:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">"In another minute, we saw but too plainly what was the matter; the poor old Vicar had been run down the street by the curate, who brandished a thick stick over his head and was followed by a crowd of rif-raf men and boys, shouting and whooping like whipping-Toms; I unbolted the door and there was Mr Morgan, in a most exhausted state, and literally hanging on the knocker for support; I took hold of him and pulled him in; and stared so hard in the curate's face, that he shrank back, and went away."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The</span> mob persisted for quite a while and seemed intent on waiting for the vicar to return to the street, but he was of course in the custody of Mary and Henry who eventually got him to a safe place. This rather savoury incident seemed to have proved sufficient for the couple to make their final and as rapid as possible, re-location. She tells of hearing one of the mob complaining about Henry's spoiling tactics; - "Oh dear sir! how you have disappointed us! we really did mean to give the old man a good 'husting'!" In the meantime, although the trio were still not particularly wealthy in the accepted meaning of the word, the literary work was increasingly becoming a remunerative occupation and it was decided that, in the light of their present situation they would cut their losses and start all over and they chose to do so some ten miles distant in the nearby market town of Melton Mowbray.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> </span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">__________________________</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">MELTON MOWBRAY</span></span></h2>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<h3>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Rudbeck House.</span></span></h3>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Following their hasty departure from the squalid problems of Syston parish, a temporary home was to be found back at the Hall in the relatively tranquil setting of Brooksby. On their return to the fold they were welcomed with the usual warmth by the Charltons but the sister's thoughts and aspirations were focussed at the possible </span>acquisition<span style="font-family: inherit;"> of what real-estate might then be available at Melton. Several return journeys in the carriage were made from Brooksby but it was soon apparent that nothing suitable was likely to be found in the existing housing stock just then. In 1872, the ladies chanced to meet up with Mr Wakerley, the highly respected and competent architect and house builder, with whom their desperate dreams of ownership saw some form of realisation. Again, I borrow the words of Mary's own notes from her book at this so exciting stage of her life when she recollects the exhilarating moment. For Melton Mowbray readers especially, her resonant description of the land and the prize of the home which she eventually acquired - which can still just be recognised today - evokes for the reader a special tingle of nostalgia of times long gone.</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="background-color: white;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;">'When the architect's plan had been sufficiently corrected</span><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;">, and as soon as all the preliminaries were all settled, our new house was built for us, at a little distance out of Melton, on the Asfordby Road, in a field where the ground was very uneven, and which had a steep bank in it, and in the bank, a gravel pit. </span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small;"> This bank was of special interest to us, as the different lines of strata lay exposed to view, in such a slanting position, that the earth must have at some time been upheaved, to leave them in that oblique and tilted fashion. We picked up a great many fossils there, many sorts of shells, and even large ammonites. </span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small;">But when all the gravel that we wanted for the walks had been taken out, Mr. Gregg had the floor of the pit beaten flat, and made a large roomy arbour there, by lodging a roof on the top of the bank, and supporting it below on two thick posts.</span></span></div>
</div>
</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> It was a very sheltered spot, screened</span><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> from every wind; and here we used to sit and look down a winding river (the river Eye), bordered with with willows and fringed with reeds and rushes, and covered on the surface with yellow water-lilies, arrow heads, and many other flowers. Our</span></span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> little domain was bounded by the Earl of Wilton's Park</span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">, with its surroundings of fine old elms. And as soon as our house was finished, and the rooks saw human beings were coming to live in it, they began to build, and formed a colony on the tops of the tallest trees. A</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: x-small;">s the river meandered through the park, and opportunity was afforded in the winter for skating; on one occasion the ice was very thick, when a number of persons, some of them ladies of the hunt, skated down as far as Sysonby and landed in Mrs Wright's Garden. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: x-small;">Whenever the frosts were severe, Mr Gregg would prepare some food for the birds and feed them himself at his study door. There would come a flock of more than fifty at a time of all sizes and colours, and with the birds a large rat used to waddle up the steps, and as tame as a kitten, take his care of the provender.</span> </span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"></span></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">Now and then there would be a gathering of holiday makers in the park, and occasionally a flower show would be held there, or some other festive sight was to be seen. </span></span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545px;">I remember once a balloon (probably Mr. Green's) was the attraction for a great number of persons. It was probably filled on the ground, and a successful</span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545px;"> ascent was made, amid shouts and cheers, and the loudest applause. H</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: x-small;">ow enjoyable was that summer time when we could have a row in the boat every afternoon, and gather the water lilies, or wile away an hour or two in quiet happiness; Elizabeth and Mr. Gregg managing the oars, and I being able to steer.</span></span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">
</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"></span></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> When we were tired of the garden, we had only to open a wicket gate and wander away to a foot-road to Sysonby, where we could linger on one of Mr. Latham's seats, which he had placed under a group of trees for the benefit of passers by. </span></span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545px;"> This tranquil</span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> scene is a thing of the past - I might say of bye-gone ages, for in these modern days of progress and improvement, there is scarcely a place to be found where peace and quietness are allowed to reign. </span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545px;"> The seat and the trees are alike chopped up, and in their stead the Great Northern Railway Company has carried an embankment, and runs its trains along the top of every quarter of an hour; the steam whistle, and such like necessary evils, have long ago scared away our beautiful</span><span style="color: #252525; font-size: x-small; line-height: 25.4545px;"> birds, and changed the whole aspect of the once secluded valley.'</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;">Oh dear, those infernal railway people! The Great </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545px;">Northern</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;"> line through the town was opened to the public in 1878, some 30 years </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545px;">after</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;"> the Midland Railway had first arrived in the town and travelled to both Nottingham and Grantham.</span></span></div>
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<h3>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-size: small; line-height: 25.4545px;">Elizabeth Dies.</span></span></h3>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;">During the first half of 1873, less than two years after moving into their blissful new home in the park, Mary Kirby was to suffer possibly the most traumatic and distressing phase of her life thus far, when at Rudbeck House on the 23rd June 1873, she was to be cruelly parted from the life-long companionship and love of her dear and devoted youngest sister Elizabeth. On returning from a trip to her dentist at Leicester, Mary reports having 'perceived a spot of inflammation on her sister's cheek conjoined with a perceptive loss of her strength.' Begging the indulgence of her readers she asked to be '... allowed to pass over as lightly as possible the events of the week which followed,' during which an existing condition of the eruptive skin disease known as </span><i style="line-height: 25.4545px;">phlegmonous erysipelas</i><span style="line-height: 25.4545px;">, [<span style="color: #545454;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">an acute infection typically with a skin rash, usually on any of the legs and toes, face, arms, and fingers. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">]</span></span> into a fever which proved to be beyond the reach of contemporary medicine; as Mary recalls:</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 25.4545px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">'When one so closely bound by the ties of affection, as well as of blood, is taken from us, it seems that this world and the next were but separated by a curtain, a semi-transparent veil; and we feel as if we were drawn with them, half-way beneath that curtain, and could catch a vision of the light beyond, and hear the faint echo of their songs, and almost realise the joys of Heaven ...</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">... It was the last day in June (1873), when she was carried to her long home and laid to rest in the Brooksby churchyard. And the stone, we had placed upon the tomb, records the fact of her having presented the living to Mr. Gregg.' </span></span></div>
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<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Note:- Elizabeth Kirby who died aged only 49 years, issued four books in her own right: Steps Up the Ladder, or, The Will and the Way (1862), Dame Buckle and her Pet Johnny (1867), Lost Cities Brought to Light (1871), and Margaret's Choice (1872)</span> </div>
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</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-odnb_5-1" style="line-height: 1;"></sup>
</span><br />
<br />
<h3>
After Elizabeth ...</h3>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the decade which followed the devastating death of Elizabeth, Mary's life seems to have moved into her own steady decline of general detachment and an almost complete termination to the producing of her works ensued. Elizabeth had been of undisputed importance to the duopoly and although today it is understood that Mary was indeed the main driving force, it can be surmised from reading between the lines of her '<i>Leaflets</i>' there are many grounds for believing that Elizabeth was indeed at least an equal contributor and without doubt a leading part of the trinity which had existed and worked hand-in-hand for so long and it is clear that she was equally loved by both Mary and her husband Henry as they got on with their lives being very much involved with Brooksby and the neighbouring parishes. <br />
<br />
During the year following the sad separation, a lightning bolt was to strike the steeple of Brooksby Church, which problem was apparently to tax Mary and Henry's resolve somewhat, as the initial strike created a serious fracture which later resulted in a total collapse of the structure. With the couple's help, the church was restored to good order in 1874. Read a detailed account of this event <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.leicestershirevillages.com/brooksby/the-lightning-strike.html"><span style="color: red;">here</span></a></span>, along with<span style="color: red;"> </span>the history of <a href="http://www.brooksbychurch.co.uk/brooksby-church-history/"><span style="color: red;">Brooksby Church</span></a> </div>
<br />
As Mary did increase her social activities as a resident of Melton and within the parishes where her husband practised his living, but the decrease of her literary production becomes apparent once more within the pages of her journal, the contents of which would finally come to a stuttering halt upon the crushing and unexpected occasion of the death of her dear husband Henry. Her final chapter describes with much pathos passing of the days in November of 1881, outlining her utter devastation on the sad episode of his sudden removal from her life and although she lived on alone as a widow for a further 12 years, with an escalating and extremely debilitating illness, Mary was not to publish another word. Her autobiography, '<i>Leaflets of my Life</i>', was finally published in 1888. It includes the following passage relating to Henry's death.<br />
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<h3>
"He knew us no longer ..." </h3>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">"... and now I must claim to be forgiven if I linger with a melancholy pleasure over the last happy morning we spent together, and recall every one of the trivial events that happened, and which stand out before me like so many figures on the canvas.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> It was November (1881) but bright and sunny, and as Mr Gregg sat in his easy chair by the fire reading the paper and telling me the news, I was at work for him, and well do I remember the many little things he brought out for me to do. First of all his umbrella must be mended, and have a fresh elastic band put round it; and then his new slippers, that were not quite easy [and] must be cut down a little in the front, and the cut place have a rosette put on to hide it; and then a hole in his Sunday vest had to be mended, and a bit of cloth stitched on the back quite out of sight, but so as to prevent his little knife from getting through the the lining of the pocket.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> I went up the long walk to meet him, and in a moment perceived that something was the matter; he looked paler than I had ever seen him; and death seemed to be written on his face. But when he put his hand to his side and said the pain was there, I felt an alarm amounting to terror. We came in at once by the study door, and after Mr Gregg had taken some hot brandy and water, he lay down upon the sofa, and I began to rub his side; but alas! the pain was so severe he seemed hardly able to bear it, and in a moment was bathed in such perspiration, that it ran off his face like water.</span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> 'We heard him breath my name, but in a few seconds he had lost consciousness, and knew us no longer.'</span></div>
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The <i>Melton Times</i> reported:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">THE DEATH OF THE REV.H. GREGG</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;">________________</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> The Rev. Henry Gregg - whose death took place so suddenly on the 9th inst. at his residence, Melton Mowbray, and cast a gloom over the whole neighbourhood - was born at Harby, in the Vale of Belvoir, in 1820. From his early youth he was distinguished and ennobled by his simple faith and trust in God. He devoted himself to His service, and passed the required examinations at King's College, London. His first curacy was with the poet, the Rev. Robert Montgomery, then incumbent of Percy Chapel, Hatton Garden. Mr Montgomery fully appreciated his humble-mindedness and love for the poor, amongst who he laboured in the very lowest parts of London. After six years of happy friendship the tie was severed by Mr. Montgomery's untimely death. After a lapse of some few years Mr. Gregg returned to his native county, as curate of Hoby-cum-Rotherby. In these parishes he made himself beloved by every man, woman, and child, and when he left that sphere of duty the poor had saved their pence for the purpose of presenting him with a handsome writing desk, and this desk he valued to the last day of his life. From Hoby, in 1859, he removed to Norwich, and his last curacy was St. Michael. In 1860 he was united in marriage with the elder of two sisters and Elizabeth, the younger one, had the gratification of presenting him to the rectorship of Brooksby. It was his earnest wish to be near friends at Hoby and renew his former ties there</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> The feelings of his parishioners and friends was well expressed by the homage paid him at his funeral on Monday, when all were filled with regret. The UnionWorkhouse sent up its quota of grief, and the children sang their sacred songs about his grave. He had been appointed chaplain in 1868, and the peaceableness of his character was very conspicuous in his dealings with the officials there. He was the friend of all, and old and young regarded him as their friend.'</span></div>
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<br />
<h3>
All Good Things ...</h3>
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Mary Gregg died on 15th October 1893 at Six Elms at the age of seventy six years. She was buried in the same grave as her husband and her sister Elizabeth near to the stone walls of Brooksby church. With the cessation of her fastidious note-keeping, little is known of her final years and life in Melton Mowbray after the passing of her husband and sister, but her social life was thought to be well fulfilled in the town in which she had finally made her home and in which she numbered many of its residents as her friends.<br />
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In the <i>Melton Times</i> of Friday, October 20th 1893, a modest public notice told of her passing thus:</div>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Death of Mrs Gregg.</h3>
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______</h3>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"> It is with the deepest regret that we have to announce the death of Mrs. Gregg, of this town, which occurred at her residence, on the Asfordby Road early on Sunday morning. The deceased lady was the daughter of the late Mr. Kirby, of Leicester, and came from one of the oldest families in that town. She was married to the Rev. Henry Gregg, the late rector of Brooksby, and who resided at Melton for many years, having previously lived at Syston, there being no rectory at Brooksby. In conjunction with her sister, the late Miss Elizabeth Kirby, she was the authoress of several well-known works. Many of the tales in the <i>Quiver</i>, Cassell's magazine, and some years ago, the <i>Family Herald</i>, were the results of their joint labours, and they were also the joint authoresses of a series of very popular and instructive school books, entitled "The world at home," Published by Messrs. Nelson and Sons. Mrs Gregg was a brilliant conversationalist and possessed a ready wit and a marvellous power of satire and repartee. Her '<i>Leaflets from my life</i>" - the last production from her pen, were very fully reviewed in these columns at the time of their publication. She had been in failing health for a long time past, and of late her condition had been such as to cause the utmost anxiety to her friends. She leaves two sisters surviving her, one of them, Madame Coulin, having lived with her for some years and being well known and greatly respected in Melton. The other sister has been grievously afflicted for a great number of years. Mrs. Gregg's kindness of heart caused her to be highly esteemed by all with whom she came into contact. She was 76 years of age.</span></blockquote>
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<div class="p3">
Relating to the above; 'Madame Coulin' refers to sister Katherine, then a widow and resident at Six Elms who was to remain as resident until 1896; the reference to the 'grievously afflicted' is the oldest sibling Sarah Uwins, also then a widow, but who would outlive them all having spent almost half a century in a Nottingham asylum detained under the Lunacy Act; she was to die in 1903 at the age of 86. Both of these Kirby sisters married well and have extremely interesting personal biographies of their own to relate which I might refer to at some time in the future. As she aooroached the end of her life, Mary Gregg is reported to have encountered increasingly hard times with the loss of her husband and other incomes and her last Will and Testament, dated 27th January 1891, left an estate of a relatively meagre £730 to sister Katherine (about £70,000 today). The remains of Mary, Henry and Elizabeth, the threesome reunited, now lie together in a tomb at the side of Brooksby church.</div>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
SIX ELMS - THE FINAL YEARS</h2>
Formally named 'Rudbeck House' in 1872 when initially constructed - relating to a nearby brook which flowed from Welby village into the River Eye, the dwelling was to be renamed '<i>Six Elms</i>' by its new owner. In 1896, one of the best known and proficient horsewomen in Leicestershire, Miss Muir, whose brother Col. R B Muir JP was living at Kirby Bellars Hall, became the new owner.<br />
From the period between the two world wars and into more recent times when the old property was approaching the end its viably useful life, <i>Six Elms</i> was owned and occupied by the Roper family of Melton Mowbray who were to make it their residence for two or three more decades. towards the end of the 20th Century, and after a period of occasional renting, structural problems became increasingly apparent and after a short period of standing unoccupied, the attractive riverside house and grounds was sold for commercial purposes. During the Spring of 2017, a large modern social amenity, officially opened its doors on the site as a care-home for the residents of Melton Mowbray.<br />
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Attending as a guest to officially open the '<a href="http://theamwellcare.com/web/"><span style="color: red;">Amwell Care Home</span></a>' on 17th April, was Mrs Diana Twitchen - formerly Miss Diana Roper - who was to plant a magnolia tree in place of one she had known several years before and which had been lost within the considerable upheaval of construction.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>© John McQuaid-Melton Mowbray-2017</b></span></div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-61326709144063812542015-03-13T16:09:00.002+00:002016-09-29T22:17:29.410+01:00FIFTY ROUNDS FOR A HUNDRED POUNDS<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Seven Rules of Pugilism</span></span></h3>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eRHoUgzftDF3777KC4n_xZYZtPEvWqDg5Q5yjcZUSzrAAe1KFJMQn_dyb8zs93RmM9Tp9AYTxdVTSDKhJ9qVxrdRwSO90yBjGfUxnKHvw3gNkfB-B_NiD4JZuDOUacpo7Y6LEK2NgYaG/s1600/2418689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eRHoUgzftDF3777KC4n_xZYZtPEvWqDg5Q5yjcZUSzrAAe1KFJMQn_dyb8zs93RmM9Tp9AYTxdVTSDKhJ9qVxrdRwSO90yBjGfUxnKHvw3gNkfB-B_NiD4JZuDOUacpo7Y6LEK2NgYaG/s1600/2418689.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h4>
John 'Jack' Broughton<br />(The father of boxing)<br />1704-1789</h4>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> Long ago in Georgian England, prize-fighting, or 'pugilism' as it was known, was a very popular form of entertainment which attracted all social classes of followers, rich and poor. As with Cock-fighting which was to be made illegal around the 1830's, the spectre of two <i>Herculean </i>combatants fighting almost to the death in an ever-increasing effusion of blood and gore was always guaranteed to draw great crowds. Today's more enlightened society generally tends to regard such sport as little less than barbaric and indeed, early efforts were made to present it as more of a humane spectacle. When, i</span></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">n 1743, John 'Jack' Broughton, a bar</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><span style="color: #252525;">e-knuckle fighter of some repute and popularity was to witness at close hand the rather ugly death at his feet of one of his beaten opponents in the ring, a trauma was triggered which was to encourage him to write down a list of mandatory rules, each to be applied in future fights. </span><a href="http://how-to-box.com/content/first-rules-boxing-broughtons-rules"><span style="color: red;">Broughton and his 'seven rules'</span></a><span style="color: #252525;"> was a long way from the </span></span><i style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">Queensbury Rules</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> that we know today, but it was a start though death and general mayhem did linger within the sport for many years to follow. In Birmingham for example, two fights on one day in 1787 resulted in a death and sadly, with human beings what they are, such violent events - as in the macabre spectacle of a public hanging - were to have the effect of drawing in even greater crowds. Many thousands of citizens were known to walk for many a mile to be present and although patronised mostly by the high society, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">the working classes also turned out in great force</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> whilst the middle classes were said to be a little less enamoured.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWzueHbB6buDBR0gOeOXDWt1ydhd_KOaTdxG9LJ2Zy-wCxMl72Lg_kSBEAtk-DGr8E1uGi5ft-wBqPCyfXB1xDkKesq1bwAhyphenhyphenWQyHLS7rmxX8lFW3fL9pYZ39M3P3wR3DeIt8EOrTWzxV/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-09-29+at+18.34.02.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWzueHbB6buDBR0gOeOXDWt1ydhd_KOaTdxG9LJ2Zy-wCxMl72Lg_kSBEAtk-DGr8E1uGi5ft-wBqPCyfXB1xDkKesq1bwAhyphenhyphenWQyHLS7rmxX8lFW3fL9pYZ39M3P3wR3DeIt8EOrTWzxV/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-09-29+at+18.34.02.png" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>A Pair of Pugilists</b></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> Massive wealth was expended in the side gambling which accompanied prize-fighting and the street bookmakers created fat wallets. It is recorded that Royalty in the guise of the Duke of York and the Prince of Wales would wager amounts totalling millions of pounds at events which, though often illegal, were frequently organised and staged in the grounds of the large private estates. Unsurprisingly, no gentlemen or middle-class males were ever known to be combatants, but some of the most popular fights were indeed between women who often fought even more tigerishly than the men.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> It is with this brief knowledge of a pastime now passed that I came across a newspaper description of such an event which had occurred in the backwoods of Georgian Melton Mowbray in 1829. Not too common an occurrence around these parts I am led to understand, but at the height of the popularity of this hunting town and in the middle of its busy winter season, this particular event was ever likely to be packed to overflowing with many of the wealthiest and the highest of high-society figures who would have walked through walls or over burning coals to be present. Perhaps then, after all, the venue - if not the time of year with snow on the ground - was predictable. I reproduce here the article in its </span></span></span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">entirety, from;</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #252525;"><span style="font-size: 17.5px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #58595b; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><b>Bell’s Life in London and Sporting Chronicle</b></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #58595b; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><b>,</b> 11th Jan 1829</span></h3>
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P R O V I N C I A L M I L L I N G.</h2>
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GALLANT FIGHT BETWEEN WILCOCKSON AND RANDALL, FOR 100 POUNDS A SIDE</div>
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Melton Mowbray, Jan. 7.</div>
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The fight between Wilcockson and Randall, two men of Nottinghamshire, for 100<i> pounds</i> a-side, which has excited the utmost attention of the Fancy of Nottingham, and the adjoining counties of Leicestershire and Yorkshire, came off yesterday at Nether Broughton, between eight and nine miles from Melton Mowbray, on the Nottingham Road.</div>
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An immense concourse of spectators assembled, amongst whom we noticed Sir Harry Goodrich, Capt. Garth, Lord Forrester, and most of the Gentlemen of the chase from Melton. The combatants who had been training at Langley Mill, Notts, under the able superintendence of Young Gas and Morgan, Josh Hudson's black, arrived on Monday night at the Red Lion Inn, [Nether] Broughton, both in good spirits, "and eager for the fray." The circumstances of their arrival having got wind, not by means of the Court Circular, but common report, speedily reached the ears of the <i>nobs</i> of the village - the Parson and the Magistrate to wit - busy rumour said, that preparations were in agitation to prevent the fight taking place in that neighbourhood.</div>
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Twelve o'clock was the time appointed, and the pugilists, attended by their seconds, and followed by an immense number of persons (chiefly mounted), from various parts of the country, proceeded to the lordship of Old Dalby, where the stakes had been previously fixed on a most eligible plot of ground, chosen by the umpires; but on reaching there, the parson of the parish, and a posse of constables, had taken possession of the ring, and positively refused to allow the fight to proceed; the whole cavalcade was therefore sent to the right about. A consultation of the men's supporters then ensued, and it was determined to repair to the lordship of Nether Broughton, where a good-natured kind-hearted farmer offered the use of his field, but did not forget to exact sixpence from each horseman and dragsman before they entered, and succeeded by this manoeuvre in pocketing upwards of 20<i>pounds</i> </div>
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Gas and Morgan, the Black, entered the chilling arena with their men about one o'clock. It was a good piece of ground, but covered with snow, and sometime was occupied in clearing it away. Some of the friends of Wilcockson objected to the Black as his second, having seen him and Gas in familiar conversation, and, fearing that some conspiracy was in agitation, they resolved that Wilcockson should should be seconded by his own friends, although there were not the least grounds for the suspicion. At twenty minutes past one o'clock the men commenced peeling - they appeared in very good condition. Wilckockson is taller by a head, and more muscular than Randall; his weight is twelve stone, and that of Randall nine stone eleven pounds. They had fought two years ago, when, in consequence of an accident happening to Wilcockson, the battle was drawn.</div>
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The Power of the Pen</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7GX3UHp47O6yyBxEInRAseT7nyQv1kVYslEmidHTa-yULV9gMNfr1i7n9iRmruSbS59In31k56LDqc8qdkvxhjT-WC94Ga8K1URaAU-QTHaSkGADWUlcLD3krXM3AzHjH9PTJTkNJNIg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-03-06+at+21.47.09.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7GX3UHp47O6yyBxEInRAseT7nyQv1kVYslEmidHTa-yULV9gMNfr1i7n9iRmruSbS59In31k56LDqc8qdkvxhjT-WC94Ga8K1URaAU-QTHaSkGADWUlcLD3krXM3AzHjH9PTJTkNJNIg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-03-06+at+21.47.09.png" width="320" /></a></div>
As we have witnessed down the years of the last century and within the gentlemanly sport of pugilism - or boxing as we like to call it today - many of the fiercer scraps took place outside of the ring and many of these were of the verbal sort. Of course the written word was also frequently used as a means of combat, as someone did once observe that 'the pen was mightier than the sword' - a term first known to have been recorded in 1839. In April, 1827, A Mr Best used the editorial columns of <i>Bell's Life in London</i> sporting newspaper to challenge his coveted opponent. It seems that a Jem Ward had carried on a long and drawn out dispute with another pugilist by the name of Byrne, creating hostile responses along the way. The publicity was free and the effect was hilarious but I have not pursued the matter further as to the final result. Here are just a couple of the letters which give a taste of the discourse:<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> "Sir - I am not disposed to occupy your columns with long letters or weak arguments. If I were to explain all that occurred at Liverpool respecting the intended match between me and Simon Byrne, both you and the <i>Sporting World </i>would be satisfied that the <i>chaffing</i> was not with me but with others, to whom, as I do not want to make mischief, I will not allude. To the point, however - I and most anxious to fight Simple Simon, and if he can get backers, I will fight him anywhere in England, 300<i>l.</i> to 200<i>l</i>., and stake 50<i>l</i>. as soon as he likes; or I will fight Byrne on his own terms, on a stage, at Glasgow, if he will give me 20<i>l.</i> to pay my expenses."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yours and Co. JEM WARD.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">TO THE EDITOR OF THE BELL'S LIFE IN LONDON.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Sir - I am so indignant at Jem Ward's cowardly conduct in his late humbug, that although I am as yet a maiden in the P.R., I have made up my mind to have a shy at him for 25 pounds a side (that being the sum my friends will come up with); or if, as I suspect his dastardly behaviour has left the poor devil no friends to back him, even for a sixpence, I will meet him on Marlborough Forest, or any other place, and fight him for a bellyful. If he will fight let him say so at once, and mean it, as I don't understand his cutting so much chaff as he did with Simon Byrne, for I wish him to know he will burn his fingers if he comes that caper over me. My weight is 12st. 8 lbs., but I will reduce myself if too heavy. I mean milling, and nothing but milling; and am your very obedient humble servant."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">WM. BEST, Snowhill, Bath. <span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> My money will be ready at any time at the Castle and Ball, Bath - April 14. </span></div>
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Once again, I cannot assist with the result of this little spat, but such media sparring was commonplace then.<br />
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Or "Fancy Something a Little different Sir?"</h3>
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If 50-plus rounds of no-punches-pulled pugilism was to prove insufficient to assuage the blood-lust of the travelling fans, or if the boxers chose to stay away from the town, other sports or pastimes were ever waiting in the wings to take more coins from the punters's pockets. Until about 1836, along with the abominable 'sport' of dog baiting, the equally horrific sport of cock-fighting was regarded as a legal sport during the reign of Charles II in England and in 1825 in Melton Mowbray, great excitement was abroad concerning rumours of a new cock-pit soon to be constructed in the town. From his '<i>Melton Mowbray Queen of the Shires</i>', let Jack Brownlow tell the story;</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RD6siqk4nzk/VPnsiIEdUyI/AAAAAAAADPw/-EJuX0zFvSk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-03-06%2Bat%2B18.04.03.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RD6siqk4nzk/VPnsiIEdUyI/AAAAAAAADPw/-EJuX0zFvSk/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2015-03-06%2Bat%2B18.04.03.png" width="370" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> ' ... the old cock pit was in the paddock at the rear of Anne of Cleve's House in Burton Street, close by the Play Close wall. The sunken amphitheatre or pit was of considerable size, and surrounded by tiered banking which provided seating for a large number of spectators. Unfortunately this historic reminder of a cruel sport was filled in during the 1930's. It was the scene of many famous subscription matches for high stakes and the inevitable gambling for large sums of money. The Leicester Journal reported in the 1820's, 'Never it is said were so many British noblemen gathered together in the town, as at a celebrated Main. The stakes were for fifteen hundred guineas; the function was attended by a great array of Scotch nobles, clad in kilts and tartans.' A main of cocks consisted of a stipulated number of battles, usually eight or nine...</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> This so-called sport was so popular that the old cock pit proved inadequate to cope with the ever-growing crowds. It was no surprise, therefore, when the County newspaper announced early in 1825 'The approaching great Main of Cocks in Melton Mowbray between two gentlemen of Leicestershire for one hundred sovereigns the main and fifty sovereigns each battle, has raised such expectations of a general attendance of all amateurs of Cocking, that a Pit capable of containing five hundred persons is now building in a convenient part of the town for the purpose'. The 'New Pit' was built at the cost of £800 by Sir Harry Goodricke in the street off Thorpe End, which still bears his name.</span> </blockquote>
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(Locals might like to know that today, as they drive into the car-park of Morrison's supermarket in Melton, they might - almost two centuries ago - have been attending a 'Main' at the New Pit)</div>
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To get a idea of how the 'sport' was organised and it's method of scoring, see also this report from Melton's New Pit, from <i>Bell's Life in London and Sporting Chronicle</i> of April in 1827;<br />
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<u>C O C K I N G</u> </h3>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">COCKING AT MELTON. - The great annual main of cocks was fought at the New Pit at Melton, last week. Phillips led for Dr. Bellayse, and Porter for Sir Harry Goodrick. First day, Tuesday, Potter, 6 main, 2byes; Phillips, 4 main. Wednesday, in consequence of Croxton Park Races, no main battles were fought, but an in-go of byes was fought late in the evening, Porter, 3, Phillips 4 - Thursday, Potter, 3 main, 1 bye; Phillips, 7 main, 1 bye. Friday, Potter, 2 main, 1 bye; Phillips 3 main;; total for Potter, 11m, 7 b.; for Phillips, 14 m., 5 b. The Pit was well attended. There was a good door throughout, and the Gentlemen of the Melton Hunt attended the sport in dress, with scarlet coats, and partook of an excellent cold collation and choice wines, served up by the worthy host of the George at Melton. The general betting was brisk, but not near so heavy as on the two former years. We have not heard who will fight the main next season, but hope it will be kept up with the usual spirit, as it is the best match of cocks ever known; and the most commodious Pit.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">And during Croxton Park Race Week:</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="s1"></span><span class="s1">The Melton Mowbray grand main of cocks, between the gentlemen of Leicestershire (Weightman, feeder) and the Gentlemen of Norfolk (Stafford, feeder), fought in the New Pit, during the Croxton Park race- Week, terminated on Thursday, the 9th instant, in favour of Leicestershire. </span><span class="s1">The fighting throughout was excellent, and afforded great scope for betting. The Norfolk birds were very fine, dangerously spurred , fighters, and great credit is due to Wightman, the winner, he being obliged to destroy a number of his best cocks in consequence of the group appearing in his pens; indeed, so close was he run for choice,as to have to fetch in some previously refused cocks for the day of weighing. He is pitched to feed against Phillips, in a grand main at the York Spring Meeting; and also against Potter, at Preston, and, from the established fame of the cocks to be brought against him, and the large and beautiful choice he already has assembled in the neighbourhood of both places, most excellent fighting may be expected.</span></span></div>
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Sir Harry Goodricke would probably never have recovered his outlay of £800 in the construction of his new pit as the practice was to become illegal in the middle of the 1830s. As can be seen in the below website, the fascination of two birds fighting to the death has never totally gone away and especially in the far east, the spectacle remains for those who wish to view it or partake. <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://right-tourism.com/issues/cruel-sports/cock-fighting/#sthash.CCwKe3rm.OMf8kHDD.dpbs"><span style="color: red;">See more at this site</span></a> </span>I don't think that I will bother thank you! The same can also be said for the operation of illegal boxing which still holds its fascination and such pugilism is to be found in 'underground' venues about the world.<br />
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<span class="s1"><b>AND FINALLY ...</b></span><br />
<span class="s1"><b><br /></b></span>By way of a bonus and not related in any way to the above post, I bring you a little gem which I came across in an old newspaper recently. This small filler I copied from the <i>Nottingham Evening Post </i>of Saturday, January 7th 1899.<br />
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<u><span class="s1"><b>AN INFIRMARY SCANDAL</b></span> </u></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">_________</span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">STRANGE DEATH-BED SCENE.</span></blockquote>
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'Dr. Wynn Westcott held an enquiry at the Bethnal Green Coroners Court yesterday respecting the death of James Blake, aged 42 years, a cork-cutter, lately residing at 193 Globe Road, Bethnal Green, who died in the parish infirmary.</div>
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<span class="s1">Dr George Gatenby, the assistant medical officer, stated that death was due to syncope and pleuro-pneumonia.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>The Widow</b>: May I make a complaint to you doctor?</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>The Coroner</b>: What is it you want to say?</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>The Widow</b>: When I was sent for to see my husband die I went at once, and whilst I was giving him a drink of milk I was grossly insulted.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>The Coroner</b>: In what way were you insulted?</span></div>
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<b>The Widow</b>: His head was on my breast as he drank the milk, and a saucy young monkey, who sat on a bed opposite, said to me. “I wouldn’t mind being in his place even if I died tomorrow.”</div>
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<b>A Juror</b>: Scandalous.</div>
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<b>The Coroner</b>: Who was the “saucy monkey” as you term him?</div>
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<b>The Widow</b>: A young fellow who was in there with the gout. He insulted me grossly, and passed many rude remarks. He also sang “Tonight I’ll be a widow in a cottage by the sea,” which he repeated four or five times. (Shame.)</div>
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<b>A Juror</b>: I consider it disgraceful for a man to act in such a manner: he ought to be reprimanded.</div>
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<b>The Coroner</b>: I quite agree with you that it was quite improper, but how are we to punish him?</div>
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Eventually it was decided that Dr. Gatenby should, on his return to the workhouse, lay the full facts before the medical superintendent, and also the Chairman of the Board of Guardians.'</div>
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Don't even ask me what happened to him!</div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-39812196508426938802015-02-26T16:16:00.002+00:002023-12-22T22:36:41.636+00:00WILLIAM LATHAM Esq. (1800-1887) <div class="p1">
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ARTIST, SOLICITOR AND LOCAL POLITICIAN.</h2>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Now retired from my many years employed as a police officer I am aware that I was once in the envious position of being able to explore places in locations where many others might have feared to tread, as the presence of a police officer wandering around old ruins and lost relics was mostly welcomed by those charged with looking after them. This grace and favour situation was closed for me in retirement but the arrival of the Internet and the desperately useful logistics and tools of cyberspace has made my research so much easier. It is with this in mind that I would like to pay homage to a man - whom I never met - who has aided me more than any other. Never more than a few feet away from me whenever I am writing or seeking inspiration, lies my well-thumbed copy of Jack Brownlow’s iconic historical reference, <b><i>‘Melton Mowbray Queen of the Shires’,</i></b> which he apparently began to compile as early as 1967 an which was eventually published in 1980. His in-depth knowledge of the history of the town which he obviously loved and its local surroundings has inspired my personal interest in the subject and whereas I never wished to steal directly from his prose, I confess to frequently dipping into his knowledgeable and authoritative chapters to keep myself on the right track. Jack was just a little late to benefit from the advantages of the electronic access that has overtaken us in the 21st century and I can only visualise now, his frequent forays to the museums and libraries which were mostly out of town. My legwork is reduced considerably today with the knowledge that the greatest source of ‘modern’ history is at any moment, waiting to be found in the millions of pages of archive newsprint, data and other documents which are now freely available on my computer screen at the touch of a key.</span><br />
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It is some few years ago now since I first laid eyes on a painting which was displaying in the Carnegie museum at Melton Mowbray, a landscape produced by a man whom we would probably describe today as a part-time or amateur artist. Dated 1835, it is labelled simply; '<b><i>Melton Mowbray, Leicestershire, from the Canal'. </i></b>This portrayal is the excellent work of the late William Latham Esq., solicitor and local politician. Done in oils on canvas and measuring just 22 x 109.5 cm. - for the unconverted, this equates to roughly 8½ inches x 43 inches - it is currently part of a collection held by the Leicestershire County Council in its Leicester museum. A greatly enlarged reproduction of this scene is today displayed for all to appreciate as a mural adorning the public foyer of the handsome new Borough Council offices in Melton Mowbray. The scene displays a vista of the 18th Century topography of this particular part of the town prior to the arrival of the Railway in 1846 which would slice the town into two. It is a part of the history of which has fascinated me for some time and this depiction of how things once were, would, at a later time, serve to concentrate my mind in a search for the origins and evolvement of the old town, particularly relating to the social and corporate expansion which ensued at the hands of the townspeople and visitors drawn to the area over a period of about two centuries.</div>
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<span class="s1">PART I</span></h2>
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A FAMILY OF SOLICITORS.</h3>
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William Latham Esq. became a subject of King George III when he was born in the busy market town of Melton Mowbray in 1800, the year in which the <i>Act of Union</i> came into being, uniting the Kingdoms of Great Britain and of Ireland into the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. With his younger sister Sarah and three older brothers he was raised in the family home at Corn-hill, which served also as the business premises of his parents, solicitor Charles and mother Mary. In 1842 William, by then a solicitor himself, would marry Annie Hewitt and in the following year a son who was to be their only child was born. Charles Latham, like his father and grandfather before him was also trained in the law and for a short while he did join the family practice, but from the age of about 20 he seems to have moved on to pastures new.</div>
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<span class="s1">After studying law at Fotheringhay, near to Oundle in Northamptonshire, William was admitted as attorney in 1822 and in 1840 he was further appointed to the Chancery. He lived briefly in Cheshire where it is believed that he met his wife to be, Annie, but he was to return to Melton Mowbray on the death of both of his parents close to the time of his marriage. On his deciding to remain in his home town with his new family, he would take over the family law practice, practicing on his own account in Corncross at the top of High Street. It was not too long before the young family relocated from living above the shop to take up a newly built family residence and practice at number 33 Nottingham Street. (This building was later later to be utilised as<i> </i>a doctors surgery under the name of Latham House and even later, to be demolished for a new Tesco outlet.) Being competent and ultimately successful, his practice grew exponentially and he was to take up his first partnership with Lincolnshire solicitor Joseph Paddison, but sadly this proved to be a short-lived relationship due to the sudden and tragic occasion of his death of his partner from typhoid at the very young age of just 40 years. He next amalgamated his business with that of a local solicitor, Walter John New, to become <i>'Latham and New</i>'.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>“… A Very Boring Place to Live!”</b></span></h3>
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<span class="s1">Apart from his busy legal work which would provide the bulk of his income, William was also greatly interested and much involved in the outside world of local politics, especially regarding the education of young people, believing it to be the primary route out of the intense poverty which then abounded. Apart from this he was especially attracted to the appreciation of art and music in most of its varying forms and this passion he would endeavour to pass on to both the young and the old of his town, including especially, the proletarian, or working people of the street. Likely a good socialist, his interest in educating the labourers and unschooled of all ages is known to have ruffled the smoothly preened feathers of the conservative middle classes as this was a time when such ‘pandering’ to the plebeians was not particularly encouraged or supported, especially by the employers and those of the gentry or those in business and authority. Indeed, in 1844, a correspondent of the <i>Leicester Journal </i>was to boldly willing to inform his readers in the county that;</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> </span><i style="font-size: x-small;">"This must be a very boring place to live. Melton cannot at present boast a public Institution (except the schools) of any kind; there is neither a public library or reading room nor any place of amusement or instruction to be found."</i></div></div>
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<span class="s1"> </span><span class="s1">It needs to be told at this point, that this young and busy solicitor, maintaining his family business to a high standard, was prepared to provide many spare hours in pursuit of</span> to his social interests. One of his earliest and most remarkable achievements was to persuade the people of Melton of the need for a school for their young ones. On a day in November, 1838, William Latham was to write in his own hand, the following missive to members of the Town Board.</div></div><div class="p5"><div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>'Take Notice that there will be a Meeting of the Feeoffees and Inhabitants of Melton Mowbray at the Town Hall on Monday 26th November 1838 to take into Consideration the Propriety of setting apart a piece of the Town Estates Garden for the purpose of erecting an infant school thereon And for the purpose of considering the means for raising money for such building, it having been resolved at a public Meeting that an infant school is desirable. The Meeting will take place at 1/2 past 10 o'clock in the Morning.' W. Latham.</i></span><br />
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<span class="s1">With the contribution of much of his own money, the land was purchased and the small school, one of very few of its type in England, was built and notwithstanding this fact, a lack of suitable education did continue </span>through the eighteenth century, but as the education of the town’s young children was beginning to benefit year on year thanks to the encouragement of willing local patron’s, William Latham’s interests and voluntary exertions were to steer him towards the encouragement of a recognition of and a participation in, music and the arts as an intrinsic facet of the further education of working men and women. In conjunction with John Day’s new lending library at the top of Cornhill, he was to promote an art gallery in the newly established National School in the town. It was of course in 1835 that William was to produce his own little artistic masterpiece - at least in my eyes - of the landscape view of his home town canal and adjoining meadow area, a depiction of which as explained elsewhere, today adorns the foyer of the Melton Borough Council Offices in Burton End. A common method of discouraging attempts at this further advancement of these older, un-schooled workers was for landlords to charge high rents or to price working people out of the establishments used for teaching which did open up, by charging exorbitant entrance fees and rents with the intended result being that they were soon forced to close their doors. Preferring the proletariat to remain at their kitchen sinks or in the bars of the many drinking houses which proliferated. 'Gosh! We don't want our 'ag-labs' learning how to read words and count numbers, surely. Whatever next!'</div>
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<span class="s1">It was thus by good fortune and his great interest, that in his main and important rôle as a succesful town solicitor, William Latham happened, among many other community titles, to act as Clerk to the Trustees of the Hudson and Storer Charities which were wealthy and generous benevolent trusts, then operating from four or five locations in the town. One of these trusts was the 17th century establishment known as the <i>Bede Houses</i> in Burton End and being aware of the useful space and location which these might provide he was able to persuade the trustees that they could be utilised beneficially as a public library for the townspeople of all ages. In her dissertation on the ‘<i>Studies of the Melton Mowbray Libraries’</i> which was published in the <i>Leicestershire Historian</i> of 1988, a former Melton local studies officer and town librarian, Judith Flint, writes of the Bede Houses experiment;</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>‘Seeking cheaper accommodation, Mr Latham found an unused room in the Bede House, which he suggested to the trustees could be used for the library. The Bede House was built in 1638 as an almshouse founded by Robert Hudson, a wealthy merchant. He was born in Melton Mowbray in 1564 and moved to London, where he made his fortune. The inmates of the Bede House each had their own room and on the first floor of the building provision was made for a central room which acted as a common room and prayer room. By 1846 this room had become a receptacle for lumber. The old common room was the room that Latham and Woodcock used for the Literary Institution, at an annual rent of £1. 4. 0. [£1.20 today] This was paid to the inmates as a disturbance allowance, as people using the library would have to go through the building to gain access.’</i></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">The venture did prove a success with admission fee set at sixpence per visit and with the later inclusion of a small museum, apparently much loved by the school children of the day and it did manage for a time to pay for its own upkeep, but as the years went by, frequent tenuous attempts at this amalgamation with other local private libraries would create only complications and vexed problems of management with the upshot being that by the 1880s as the shareholders began to grow older and pass on, their successors would prove to be less interested in its upkeep or even harbour any thoughts of expansion or success. The result came to be that within a couple of decades of the death of William Latham and with a serious lack of any capable or willing stewardship available, the failing library at the Bede Houses was to issue just twelve books in 1907 for reading and these were destined to be its final ones, even though the museum did manage to just limp along: </span><br />
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<i style="font-size: x-small;">...‘The library gathered dust in the Bede House and, although the museum attracted several important donations, especially the Bickley coin collection in 1936, the lack of finance to develop the museum ensured its eventual decline. In November 1946 the trustees of the Bede House had to close the museum room as they could not find anyone suitable to look after it and it was never to re-open.’ </i></blockquote>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">PART TWO</span></b></h2>
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THE PORTRAIT AND MR LATHAM’S </div>
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MAP OF THE TOWN</div>
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The Portrait</h3>
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<span class="s1">When William Latham was about 77 years of age - he never really ever retired completely - he was to complete a personal project that had apparently absorbed many hours of his precious and increasingly rare - even for a septuagenarian - spare time and thought. With his obvious artistic gift and an eye and mind honed for precise, clear and useful detail, he had long pondered over the geographical problems and divisions of convoluted opinion which had arisen in so many of the day-to-day cases which he had overseen during his legal work - both criminal and civil - which were all part and parcel of his responsibilities to the Magistracy in the town. His solution was to be the creation of a grand bespoke map, or chart of the town to supersede any previous effort and one which would identify precisely the location of each building, shed, fountain, memorial stone or byre and precisely display all of the boundaries which indicated the Borough limits. Many an argument involving the thorny issue of boundaries and exact locations were matter which frequently arose in the courts and offices of the town creating the provocation of much uneccesary dispute.In the finest detail by his very skilled hand, all of this was to be made available for any citizen who wished to make use of its service. No other official map - such as the later government produced Ordnance Survey charts - was yet available for public use. It is said that within a period of just six months from its conception, William was to complete and present this truly splendid artefact. Described as being some 11 feet in length and 39 inches wide and covering the whole of the parish, it was inscribed with the utmost accuracy and annotated with fine manuscript, it incorporated every single foot of ground contained in the lordship at a scale set at 3 chains to the inch. Each separate property in the parish was distinctly identified with the whole being painted in watercolours with different coloured or white ground, indicating which of the properties were unredeemed from the Land Tax, or anciently or recently redeemed. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span><span class="s1">The foot of the map was beautifully decorated with a depiction of the town as it was seen before 1846 - the year of the arrival of the railway! - the aspect being from the south end of the parish with prominent features of the area known as Priors Close, the Play-close, the Parish Church, Earl of Wilton’s residence, the bridges over the River Eye and adjacent canal, together with other characteristics of the neighbourhood. Beautifully executed, there was included an extremely detailed index which pertained to every particular as to owners and occupiers and their redemption or not of the land tax on the estates that have taken place. William had apparently professed in its implementation, that "Its use in the future for the welfare of the town with the added wish that it might become a legacy of reference for all time ahead." This was surely an understatement - how we would all desire to see such a map today! In its presentation to the Local Board, it was his intention to ask for permission to place it in the Magistrates room for that particular purpose. The gift is said to have been nothing less than a marvellous production, apart from being a work of art and one which, in the motive which prompted it, indicated the amazing skill and patience of carrying it out and the accuracy and perfection which characterised it.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In connection with this impressive gesture to the people of Melton, William Latham was lauded from all quarters, not only from the businesses and professions to whom it would prove so useful, but also from every social class of town dweller, who was to assure that this public approbation was directly due </span><br />
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<span class="s1">‘…to one who every person living in the parish justly feels a pride and pleasure - towards a gentleman, a townsman and a friend and that his creation, as a work of art as well as one of the greatest utility, to be ever regarded as a boon to the town which will only increase in value.'</span></blockquote>
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With no Ordnance Survey map of the town yet available, Latham’s contribution proved to be certainly ahead of its time and it really does sound like an amazing <i>tour-de-force. </i>I am not aware that this map - or any facsimile - still exists,<i> </i>but it is something I would just love to see today, though I do fear that it is by now lost to view and is likely lost for all time. The people of Melton were to keep a weather eye on matters and in the <i>Grantham Journal</i> at the beginning of March 1887, not too long after the passing of William and Annie Latham, there appeared the first emergence of discontent as to the future of the items.</div>
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<span class="s1">Towards the end of his life, a time during which the man was not seen to be slowing down in any way,Close to two decades before the death of William Latham Esq., many of the townspeople present at his funeral and others who had themselves by now passed on, had willingly and cheerfully put their hands into their not too deep pockets in order to voluntarily collect the not inconsiderable sum in 1870 of £300, exclusively for the purpose of presenting to William’s devoted wife Annie a full length oil-painting of her husband. The testimonial had been arranged and agreed with the popular solicitor and his wife some time beforehand and Mr J. Archer Esq., RSA had been commissioned to carry out the work for the generous fee of 150 sovereigns (£150). This presentation of the portrait to Mrs Latham, together with a separate presentation of a purse of 150 sovereigns, together with an illuminated vellum address in an enriched casket to her husband, had taken place at the Latham residence in Nottingham street during the Christmas of 1872. Mr Whitchurch, Chairman of the presentation committee was deputed to address Mrs Latham and in the presence of the gathered audience announced:</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> “Madam, - It is upwards of a year since I had the honour of appearing in this room with a deputation to solicit Mr Latham’s consent to our presenting him with a testimonial. That consent being obtained, our work (which was throughout a labour of love), may be said to have been easy, for such is the respect in which Mr Latham is held by his clients and personal friends, such is the esteem felt for him by his fellow townsmen, and such is the appreciation of that wondrous piece of calligraphy executed by Mr Latham in his old age, now hanging in our public room, and ornament, and most useful to us, that subscriptions voluntarily poured in upon us, - I say voluntarily because no solicitation was used, and we shortly received close upon £300 from upwards of three hundred subscribers. Our plans for carrying out the object of the testimonial were resolved on, and if they are in consonance with Mr Latham’s and your own we are glad. Knowing that an act of courtesy to a wife must ever meet with a grateful response from a husband, it was decided to present you with Mr Latham’s portrait. The portrait now before us, as a work of art, is seldom equalled, and as a true portrait, faithfully delineating Mr Latham, can’t be surpassed. The artist as well as depicting the outward features of the man, has shown us his natural temperament - look at that plain sympathising face and those benignant eyes. I have now, Madam, the honour and the most profound pleasure, on behalf of this deputation and the subscribers generally, of presenting this portrait to you, who will value it much. When we are numbered with our fathers, it will, I trust, be handed down to posterity and show them their predecessors in this place knew how to appreciate one of the noblest works of oration a true Christian and a good man. We sincerely wish Mr Latham and yourself many years of uninterrupted happiness, and that you may in green old age enjoy that peace which a life well spent generally produces.” </span></div>
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<span class="s1"> Then turning to Mr Latham, Mr Whitchurch addressed him, explaining that the purse was the work of two local ladies ‘whose fingers I have no doubt were guided by their good wishes towards you in producing so beautiful a piece of work.’ He told Mr Latham that the surplus of £150 was his to spend as he wished. The Address, hand-crafted in London by skilled artisans and presented in a beautiful and richly carved casket, was read out.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Gentleman, allow me in a few words to thank you most sincerely for you great liberality and kindness. Nothing can be more gratifying to a wife than to find her beloved husband so highly esteemed and respected by so large a circle of friends. I not only thank those present, but, through you all, individually and collectively, who have aided in this marked goodness, not only to my dear husband but also to myself.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“A number of my neighbours and personal friends have kindly subscribed the sum of £302 as a testimony of their respect for me, which is very gratifying, and fully appreciated. Part of that sum has been expended in a portrait of myself, in autotypes from the picture [photographic copies], leaving a balance of £15 which has been presented to me this day. It is my wish to dispose of this sum for the benefit of Hudson’s Bedehouses and Storer’s Almshouses in this town, and for the following reasons - I have been clerk and treasurer to those charities for more than fifty years and have observed the benefits derived from them by the inmates. As the chief part of the income of these charities may be such as to necessitate either a reduction of the number of inmates or a reduction of their weekly allowance. I therefore hereby hand over the sum of of £150 to the Trustees of Hudson’s and Storer’s Charities, to be applied by them and their successors in such manner as they shall think will be most beneficial to those useful institutions.</span></div>
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Another generous gesture and a nice little Christmas present for the inmates - remembering that £100 in 1870 was the equivalent of over £8,000 in today’s money! and a yet further example of the largesse of William Latham was his generous contribution to the funding of the new infant school which was built in Norman Street in 1853, when in 1880 and in the later years of his life, he was to donate a piece of land in order to provide a playground.</div>
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NOEL </h3>
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As a total irrelevance and with the purpose of presenting some idea of life in the small market town of Melton Mowbray at Christmas in that year of 1872, I insert this short piece taken from the Grantham Journal of the 27th December:</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">‘</span><b style="text-align: justify;">Christmas: - </b><span style="text-align: justify;">Christmas Day, as usual, was ushered in with the strains of of the Melton Band, who played their morning carols much to the pleasure and satisfaction of those who heard them. The bells of the Parish Church also announced the arrival of the festive season. The members of the band paraded the town on Boxing day and paid their respects, and the compliments of the season, to those who were likely to reward them.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"></span><b>Christmas Day at the Workhouse.</b> - The inmates of the Union Workhouse had, on Christmas Day, through the kindness and liberality of the Guardians, roast beef and plum pudding, to which all seemed to do ample justice. After dinner they were plentifully supplied with ale, tobacco, etc, and the little hearts of the children rejoiced amongst a bountiful supply of figs, nuts and oranges. Tea and plum cake were provided later in the day, and all appeared to enjoy themselves to their hearts’ content. The dining-hall was very well decorated with evergreens and suitable mottoes, the whole being under the management of of the respected master and matron, Mr and Mrs Weston, who were indefatigable in their exertions to make this festive season an enjoyable one to to all those under their care.’</span></div>
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<b>T H E L A T H A M P O R T R A I T.</b></div>
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To the Editor of the Journal</div>
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Sir, - Some years ago, a subscription was set on foot for the purpose of making a presentation to the late Mr. Latham, and something over £300 was raised. About half that sum was spent in an oil painting of Mr Latham, which was presented to Mrs. Latham and the balance presented to Mr. Latham in cash. This sum Mr. L. gave to the Bede-houses, and both he and Mrs. Latham stated at the death of the last survivor of the two the portrait should be given to the town. I want to know, Sir, whether that has been done, and whether the Townwardens have applied for it? If not, why not? - </div>
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I am, Sir,</div>
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<div style="text-align: right;">
ONE OF THE SUBSCRIBERS.</div>
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Melton Mowbray, March 3rd, 1887.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcvHC-IfkloqqqrA9dTU3sOgByVagWgdO8EFAEkM00fdA9dTFgHyH4obeszq0aYQ7_XSlNxyu2bCJu1TH6IqQbUqYpaJpoCRKtz2Z4nkJUaErY4P_T9EAqDaV1Uc6j_mTTG44Tosrq9W8/s1600/Lathams+Map.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcvHC-IfkloqqqrA9dTU3sOgByVagWgdO8EFAEkM00fdA9dTFgHyH4obeszq0aYQ7_XSlNxyu2bCJu1TH6IqQbUqYpaJpoCRKtz2Z4nkJUaErY4P_T9EAqDaV1Uc6j_mTTG44Tosrq9W8/s400/Lathams+Map.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<h2 style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">At one stage it was believed that the items had been stolen from their resting place and there followed a tricky passage of time during which conflict arose as to who would have the responsibility for their safe-keeping. The small local matter seemed to have been a storm in a tea-cup which resolved eventually, but though the map seems to have vanished over the longer passage of time, the portrait is believed to have been hanging within the precincts of the Melton Magistrates Court until quite recently.PART THREE</span></h2>
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THE PORTRAIT AND MR LATHAM’S </div>
<span class="s1"><div style="text-align: center;">
MAP OF THE TOWN</div>
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<span class="s1">(A Gift to the People)</span></div>
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<span class="s1">It was on Thursday 6th January 1887, that William Latham was ultimately laid to rest at just after 2pm on what was reported as a cold and foggy afternoon, publicly and in the presence of a considerable number of his mourning townsfolk who would not be deterred from celebrating the final moments of a much-loved man who had been finally removed from their midst. Following this much-lamented passing of such a popular resident, attention was soon to be drawn to the mention within the requiem of the iconic portrait and scale map, especially the sentence in the <i>Grantham Journal</i> which had stated - <i>‘The portrait above mentioned now becomes the property of the town</i>.’ There followed a public discourse via letters to the editor of this newspaper as opposing factors in the town lay down their rights and reasons as to claims of ownership.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span><span class="s1">It is here that I feel a personal need to bring to light in the present day, a more detailed exposition of these once personal items, now in public ownership, their origins and their probable importance to the heritage of Melton Mowbray. For me, there exists the added enigma of their possible present existence and of their seemingly unknown location, if indeed they do still exist at some place. For this reason, I will explicate further.</span></div>
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<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">THE PORTRAIT …</span></h3>
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<span class="s1">Close to two decades before the death of William Latham Esq., many of the townspeople present at his funeral and others who had themselves by now passed on, had willingly and cheerfully put their hands into their not too deep pockets in order to voluntarily collect the not inconsiderable sum in 1870 of £300, exclusively for the purpose of presenting to William’s devoted wife Annie a full length oil-painting of her husband. The testimonial had been arranged and agreed with the popular solicitor and his wife some time beforehand and Mr J. Archer Esq., RSA had been commissioned to carry out the work for the generous fee of 150 sovereigns (£150). This presentation of the portrait to Mrs Latham, together with a separate presentation of a purse of 150 sovereigns, together with an illuminated vellum address in an enriched casket to her husband, had taken place at the Latham residence in Nottingham street during the Christmas of 1872. Mr Whitchurch, Chairman of the presentation committee was deputed to address Mrs Latham and in the presence of the gathered audience announced:</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> “Madam, - It is upwards of a year since I had the honour of appearing in this room with a deputation to solicit Mr Latham’s consent to our presenting him with a testimonial. That consent being obtained, our work (which was throughout a labour of love), may be said to have been easy, for such is the respect in which Mr Latham is held by his clients and personal friends, such is the esteem felt for him by his fellow townsmen, and such is the appreciation of that wondrous piece of calligraphy executed by Mr Latham in his old age, now hanging in our public room, and ornament, and most useful to us, that subscriptions voluntarily poured in upon us, - I say voluntarily because no solicitation was used, and we shortly received close upon £300 from upwards of three hundred subscribers. Our plans for carrying out the object of the testimonial were resolved on, and if they are in consonance with Mr Latham’s and your own we are glad. Knowing that an act of courtesy to a wife must ever meet with a grateful response from a husband, it was decided to present you with Mr Latham’s portrait. The portrait now before us, as a work of art, is seldom equalled, and as a true portrait, faithfully delineating Mr Latham, can’t be surpassed. The artist as well as depicting the outward features of the man, has shown us his natural temperament - look at that plain sympathising face and those benignant eyes. I have now, Madam, the honour and the most profound pleasure, on behalf of this deputation and the subscribers generally, of presenting this portrait to you, who will value it much. When we are numbered with our fathers, it will, I trust, be handed down to posterity and show them their predecessors in this place knew how to appreciate one of the noblest works of oration a true Christian and a good man. We sincerely wish Mr Latham and yourself many years of uninterrupted happiness, and that you may in green old age enjoy that peace which a life well spent generally produces.” </span></div>
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<span class="s1"> Then turning to Mr Latham, Mr Whitchurch addressed him, explaining that the purse was the work of two local ladies ‘whose fingers I have no doubt were guided by their good wishes towards you in producing so beautiful a piece of work.’ He told Mr Latham that the surplus of £150 was his to spend as he wished. The Address, hand-crafted in London by skilled artisans and presented in a beautiful and richly carved casket, was read out.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> In acknowledging the gifts along with the names of the 306 subscribers, Mrs Latham was, in return, to tell the Committee;</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Gentleman, allow me in a few words to thank you most sincerely for you great liberality and kindness. Nothing can be more gratifying to a wife than to find her beloved husband so highly esteemed and respected by so large a circle of friends. I not only thank those present, but, through you all, individually and collectively, who have aided in this marked goodness, not only to my dear husband but also to myself.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1"> It was revealed that the following message was delivered that same day by Mr Latham to the trustees of Hudson and Storers Charities;</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“A number of my neighbours and personal friends have kindly subscribed the sum of £302 as a testimony of their respect for me, which is very gratifying, and fully appreciated. Part of that sum has been expended in a portrait of myself, in autotypes from the picture [photographic copies], leaving a balance of £15 which has been presented to me this day. It is my wish to dispose of this sum for the benefit of Hudson’s Bedehouses and Storer’s Almshouses in this town, and for the following reasons - I have been clerk and treasurer to those charities for more than fifty years and have observed the benefits derived from them by the inmates. As the chief part of the income of these charities may be such as to necessitate either a reduction of the number of inmates or a reduction of their weekly allowance. I therefore hereby hand over the sum of of £150 to the Trustees of Hudson’s and Storer’s Charities, to be applied by them and their successors in such manner as they shall think will be most beneficial to those useful institutions.</span></div>
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Another generous gesture and a nice little Christmas present for the inmates - remembering that £100 in 1870 was the equivalent of over £8,000 in today’s money! and a yet further example of the largesse of William Latham was his generous contribution to the funding of the new infant school which was built in Norman Street in 1853, when in 1880 and in the later years of his life, he was to donate a piece of land in order to provide a playground.</div>
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<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
NOEL </h3>
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As a total irrelevance and with the purpose of presenting some idea of life in the small market town of Melton Mowbray at Christmas in that year of 1872, I insert this short piece taken from the Grantham Journal of the 27th December:</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">‘</span><b style="text-align: justify;">Christmas: - </b><span style="text-align: justify;">Christmas Day, as usual, was ushered in with the strains of of the Melton Band, who played their morning carols much to the pleasure and satisfaction of those who heard them. The bells of the Parish Church also announced the arrival of the festive season. The members of the band paraded the town on Boxing day and paid their respects, and the compliments of the season, to those who were likely to reward them.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"></span><b>Christmas Day at the Workhouse.</b> - The inmates of the Union Workhouse had, on Christmas Day, through the kindness and liberality of the Guardians, roast beef and plum pudding, to which all seemed to do ample justice. After dinner they were plentifully supplied with ale, tobacco, etc, and the little hearts of the children rejoiced amongst a bountiful supply of figs, nuts and oranges. Tea and plum cake were provided later in the day, and all appeared to enjoy themselves to their hearts’ content. The dining-hall was very well decorated with evergreens and suitable mottoes, the whole being under the management of of the respected master and matron, Mr and Mrs Weston, who were indefatigable in their exertions to make this festive season an enjoyable one to to all those under their care.’</span></div>
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<h3>
<span class="s1">…AND THE MAP.</span></h3>
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<span class="s1">When William Latham was about 77 years of age - he never really retired completely - he was to complete a personal project that had apparently absorbed many hours of his precious and increasingly rare - even for a septuagenarian - spare time and thought. With his artistic gift and an eye and mind honed for precise and clear detail, he had long pondered over the geographical problems and divisions of convoluted opinion which had arisen in so many of the day-to-day cases which he had overseen during his legal work - criminal and civil - and which were all part and parcel of his responsibilities to the Magistracy in the town. His solution was to be the creation of a grand map, a chart of the town to supersede any previous effort and one which would identify precisely the location of each building, shed, fountain, memorial stone or byre and precisely display all of the boundaries which indicated the Borough limits. In the finest detail by his very skilled hand, all of this was to be made available for any citizen who wished to make use of its service. No other official map - such as the later government produced Ordnance Survey charts - was yet available for public use. It is said that within a period of just six months from its conception, William was to complete and present this truly splendid artefact. Described as being some 11 feet in length and 39 inches wide and covering the whole of the parish, it was inscribed with the utmost accuracy and annotated with fine manuscript, it incorporated every single foot of ground contained in the lordship at a scale set at 3 chains to the inch. Each separate property in the parish was distinctly identified with the whole being painted in watercolours with different coloured or white ground, indicating which of the properties were unredeemed from the Land Tax, or anciently or recently redeemed. </span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span><span class="s1">The foot of the map was beautifully decorated with a depiction of the town as it was seen before 1846 - the year of the arrival of the railway! - the aspect being from the south end of the parish with prominent features of the area known as Priors Close, the Play-close, the Parish Church, Earl of Wilton’s residence, the bridges over the River Eye and adjacent canal, together with other characteristics of the neighbourhood. Beautifully executed, there was included an extremely detailed index which pertained to every particular as to owners and occupiers and their redemption or not of the land tax on the estates that have taken place. William had apparently professed in its implementation, that "Its use in the future for the welfare of the town with the added wish that it might become a legacy of reference for all time ahead." This was surely an understatement - how we would all desire to see such a map today! In its presentation to the Local Board, it was his intention to ask for permission to place it in the Magistrates room for that particular purpose. The gift is said to have been nothing less than a marvellous production, apart from being a work of art and one which, in the motive which prompted it, indicated the amazing skill and patience of carrying it out and the accuracy and perfection which characterised it.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In connection with this impressive gesture to the people of Melton, William Latham was lauded from all quarters, not only from the businesses and professions to whom it would prove so useful, but also from every social class of town dweller, who was to assure that this public approbation was directly due </span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="s1">‘…to one who every person living in the parish justly feels a pride and pleasure - towards a gentleman, a townsman and a friend and that his creation, as a work of art as well as one of the greatest utility, to be ever regarded as a boon to the town which will only increase in value.'</span></blockquote>
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With no Ordnance Survey map of the town yet available, Latham’s contribution proved to be certainly ahead of its time and it really does sound like an amazing <i>tour-de-force. </i>I am not aware that this map - or any facsimile - still exists,<i> </i>but it is something I would just love to see today, though I do fear that it is by now lost to view and is likely lost for all time. The people of Melton were to keep a weather eye on matters and in the <i>Grantham Journal</i> at the beginning of March 1887, not too long after the passing of William and Annie Latham, there appeared the first emergence of discontent as to the future of the items.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcvHC-IfkloqqqrA9dTU3sOgByVagWgdO8EFAEkM00fdA9dTFgHyH4obeszq0aYQ7_XSlNxyu2bCJu1TH6IqQbUqYpaJpoCRKtz2Z4nkJUaErY4P_T9EAqDaV1Uc6j_mTTG44Tosrq9W8/s1600/Lathams+Map.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcvHC-IfkloqqqrA9dTU3sOgByVagWgdO8EFAEkM00fdA9dTFgHyH4obeszq0aYQ7_XSlNxyu2bCJu1TH6IqQbUqYpaJpoCRKtz2Z4nkJUaErY4P_T9EAqDaV1Uc6j_mTTG44Tosrq9W8/s400/Lathams+Map.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<b>T H E L A T H A M P O R T R A I T.</b></div>
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To the Editor of the Journal</div>
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Sir, - Some years ago, a subscription was set on foot for the purpose of making a presentation to the late Mr. Latham, and something over £300 was raised. About half that sum was spent in an oil painting of Mr Latham, which was presented to Mrs. Latham and the balance presented to Mr. Latham in cash. This sum Mr. L. gave to the Bede-houses, and both he and Mrs. Latham stated at the death of the last survivor of the two the portrait should be given to the town. I want to know, Sir, whether that has been done, and whether the Townwardens have applied for it? If not, why not? - </div>
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I am, Sir,</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
ONE OF THE SUBSCRIBERS.</div>
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Melton Mowbray, March 3rd, 1887.</div>
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At one stage it was believed that the items had been stolen from their resting place and there followed a tricky passage of time during which conflict arose as to who would have the responsibility for their safe-keeping. The small local matter seemed to have been a storm in a tea-cup which resolved eventually, but though the map seems to have vanished over the longer passage of time, the portrait is believed to have been hanging within the precincts of the Melton Magistrates Court until quite recently.</div>
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<h3>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">“Death, Whose Arrow is Noiseless ..."</span></b></h3>
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William Latham left his indelible mark on Melton Mowbray upon many divers fields, including those of the civil and criminal law, Magisterial duties, education, together with music and the arts to name the main ones and not to forget his indefatigable travails as Clerk to both the Local Board (the forerunner of the Urban and Borough Councils) and involvement of the complex operations of the Town Estate. His beloved wife Annie, of whom little is publicly recorded, was to die in 1884 at the age of 70; she preceded William who was destined to become a widower for just three years until in 1887, he too was to succumb to his Maker. passing away at the fairly generous age of 86 years. The <i>Grantham Journal</i> was one of the first newspapers - then weekly - to officially announce the news to a despondent population with an entry in their edition of Saturday the 8th January 1887; the message was very simple and succinct.</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>LATHAM</b> - On the 2nd inst., at Melton Mowbray, William Latham aged 86 years. Friends will please accept this the only intimation.</span></blockquote>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The following week there appeared in the Journal a detailed and emotive obituary which took up almost one whole column of the broadsheet. I reprint it <i>in toto </i>to give some idea of the character of the man;</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: justify;">“Death, whose arrow is noiseless, whose footstep is light,” after a long and kindly waiting of eighty six years, entered the well-known and peaceful dwelling of the late Mr. WILLIAM LATHAM, in Nottingham-Street, Melton, on Sunday evening last, and claimed for his own one of the worthies of Melton Mowbray, for certainly no one in Melton, whose life’s course has run with the century, has borne a more honoured, spotless and worthy name than the deceased gentleman, whose removal from our midst it is our painful duty to record. Death is “a benefit when it comes crowned with honour” - the honour of a quiet, unostentatious, yet noble, because a christian life, as in the case of the venerable subject of this notice: we feel, when one so lives with honour to his end that “memory and virtue are his mourners,” death is robbed of its terrors, and becomes rather the friend than the enemy of such men. The late Mr. Latham for many years actively practised as a solicitor, and indeed, up to within a short period of his decease, though suffering long from enfeebled health, he took a deep interest in the business of the eminent firm of which he had so long been the senior partner. Among no class of persons will the kindly face of the deceased be be more missed than by the numerous clients of his firm. Until within the last few years, no name figured in the town records oftener than his. The signature of ‘William Latham” is very frequently to be met within the books, generally well kept by the successive Townwardens, and that always in connection with some good work tending to advance the interests and prosperity of the town he loved so long and so well. He was not an office-seeker, nor did his ambition lead him to the rulers seat, but where quiet earnest help could be given to a worthy cause, that help was never withheld. He was ever ready to help the needy, to sooth the suffering, and to comfort the addicted, His connection with the Melton Bede House was so long, consistent, and regular, as to become part and parcel of his daily life. His duty there was an inspiration from God. In his daily visits, in his reading of prayers, in his cheerful conversation with the inmates, in his every endeavour to contribute to their comfort and joy in their declining years, he was indeed as a father and a friend. For some time past, in consequence of physical infirmity, Mr Latham had to cease his daily visits to the Bede houses, but in Mr. J.H. Petch he had found a willing helper, and an able deputy. Mr Latham was a tried and firm friend of the Bible Society, The Young Men’s Christian Association, and other kindred societies. He was a generous supporter of the Melton Horticultural Society, and of every institution in the town, the tendency of which was to add to the material intellectual, or spiritual improvement of the people. By the death of Mr LATHAM the poor have lost a real friend. The good he has done in this direction - much of it unseen and unnoticed except by the recipients of his bounty - can never be told. Benevolence was with him a habit of daily life - systematic, regular, unbroken. Calm and collected in all his business transactions, in dispensing charity he was never impulsive or erratic - today taking one course and tomorrow another. As the anvil is responsive to the hammer’s stroke, so was he to the great purpose of his life. If he cared for the applause of his fellow men, he did not seek it. If he could show love to his neighbour and glorify God, he appeared satisfied, for he found </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">“the blessedness of being little: </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">And to add greater honour to his age </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Than man could give him, he died fearing God.”</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>As clerk to the Local Board from, we believe, its first meeting to the last day in his long life, the deceased won the respect and esteem of all with whom he became associated; and when he was no longer able to be personally present at the meetings of the Board, the town was especially fortunate in him having placed at its service such valuable assistance as that rendered by the late Mr. Paddison, and now with such ability by Mr. New, With the exception of this important office, Mr Latham hardly ever took part in public matters. When upwards of seventy years of age, Mr Latham produced a very large coloured map, or plan, of the parish of Melton Mowbray, which is a marvellous piece of work. It is now deposited in the Melton Sessions Hall, and is frequently referred to. Soon after this, his fellow townsmen raised £300 as a testimonial to him, of which £150 was expended on a full-length, life-sized portrait, by Archer. The remaining £150 Mr. Latham presented to the Trustees of Hudson’s Bed Houses. The portrait above-mentioned now becomes the property of the town.</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>On the 13th April next, it will be fifty years since the celebrated Marquis of Waterford’s riots took place, and caused such terror in Melton. It appears that after spending the day at Croxton Park Races, the Marquis, Edward Homer Reynard, Esq., Lord Alford, Sir Frederick Johnstone, the Hon. Mr Villiers, and other gentlemen, about three o’clock on Thursday morning turned out into the streets, attacked the constables and knocked them down. Mr Latham was prosecuting solicitor in the legal proceedings which followed these strange doings.</i></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>THE FUNERAL</i></span></b></h3>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> As the life of the deceased was of the simplest, so in harmony with that life, the funeral, which took place on Thursday afternoon, was of a simple and unobtrusive character. The coffin was of plain oak, with plain black mounts, and was carried by six bearers. At two o’clock, the time appointed for the the funeral to leave Nottingham Street, every place of business throughout the town was closed, and though the weather was exceptionally severe, and a thick fog hung over the place, a very large number of the inhabitants took part in the solemn proceedings. The cortege proceeded to the Church.</i></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">The correspondent went on to describe the long procession of a great number of clergy, inhabitants of the parish present and others from further afield which gathering was, in his estimation, “the largest seen since the funeral of the late Sir Francis Grant.” He referred to the words spoken by the Incumbent, the Rev. William M. Colles thus “His unstinted charity to the poor, of his consistent and continued attention to the worship of Almighty God, and of a life so well spent that they could scarcely expect to “look upon his like again.” And he concluded;</span></div>
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<span class="s1">"The portion of the service at the grave side, said in a dense fog, brought to an end that which will long be remembered in Melton Mowbray, as a most fitting “last office” to the memory of one of its best citizens." </span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1">In relation to the prosecution of the ubiquitous and much despised visitor, the Marquis of Waterford, the writer expounded upon an incident which was apparently often repeated about the town to the effect that on the occasion of the Magistrates hearing at Leicester, Mr Latham had commenced his opening speech for the prosecution with the bold statement that, “… as regards these and such-like acts, the Marquis of Waterford was a notorious character …” at which it is told that the Marquis immediately interrupted him and striding towards him with great anger and face close to face, defied him to “Repeat those words!” A number of the friends of the Marquis are said to have interposed, and his lordship was at length induced to retain his place in the dock to listen as Mr. Latham, with great equilibrium, continued with his speech unmoved.</span></div>
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... But the Name Remains.</h3>
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<span class="s1">Such were some of the many recollections which would attach themselves to the memory of William Latham during the ensuing years, but the man himself was now gone and lost to the community which he so obviously cherished and respected. Today in the 21st century, scant attention is paid to the man now almost forgotten who was surely one of its most extraordinary citizens. His name lives on in the town with the existence of the town's doctor's surgery now removed from Nottingham Street. In the High Street of Melton Mowbray today there still exists a firm of solicitors which currently operates under the name of <i>‘Latham and Co., Solicitors’ </i>which has evolved over the decades from the original one of William's father, Charles; this was at an earlier time known as <i>‘Latham, New and Smythe’</i> and the business name has changed several times during the intervening years as partners have come and gone. But the constant part of the title is the contemporary appellation which remains as ‘<i>Latham</i>’, like a cornerstone which has lasted for more than two centuries. Since the last of the practising Latham family of solicitors died in 1887 and there seems to have been no descendant members employed at the the firm since, this might well serve to indicate the importance of William Latham’s contribution of his long and useful life in and service to, the town.</span></div>
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I will add to this piece at a later time, but with its publication I would like to think that there is someone out there who has the answer to my question, "Whither lies the portrait of William Latham Esq. (1800-1887) and as a follow up question, does his amazing map still exist?" If they both do, they would certainly rate highly as much valued treasures of our town and should form part of its ancient heritage. I suggest that the memory of William Latham deserves to be not only remembered, but physically displayed alongside his 1835 painting, an enlarged copy of which which adorns the Council Offices as a mural in the public area for all to appreciate, to remind us of one of the forgotten but very important fathers of our community.</div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-64171383532466467802015-01-19T16:43:00.000+00:002015-03-25T20:32:05.863+00:00A VIEW FROM THE PAST.<div class="p1" style="text-align: left;">
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<span class="s1"><b>Rootling Around the Old Town</b></span></h3>
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Circa 1820 - spot the two windmills!</h4>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Whilst indulging in my very favourite habit of searching the columns of old newspapers - some from as long ago as 200 years, I occasionally venture upon an article or other piece of writing which just jumps off the page to grab my attention. Such was the case quite recently when, whilst perusing the pages of the once widely distributed and popular Saturday publication known as </span><span style="color: red; text-align: justify;">'</span><i style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Graphic"><span style="color: red;">The Graphic,</span></a>' </i><span style="text-align: justify;">(1839-1932) I came across the following short piece by their hunting correspondent whom I can only identify as 'C. H.'</span><span class="s1"></span><br />
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As is recognised far and wide the small market town of Melton Mowbray in Leicestershire is long famous for its introduction to the world of pork-pies and Stilton cheese, but before this time the area was to create great celebrity and recognition as the venue for the origins of fox-hunting. It is generally accepted that in the 1750's Leicestershire man Hugo Meynell was destined to become the accepted true father of English Fox-hunting when he began to study the concept of turning what was then merely the hobby or pastime of a few friends. He would experiment with his vision of creating a 'pack' of fox-hounds with which to hunt regularly, thus creating a sport for all - (who could afford it!). Of course 'Reynard' had been hunted from time immemorial in England, usually as an unwelcome and frequently vicious pest which not only beleaguered the landowners and farmers with their hunting forays, but were regarded as vermin due to the fact that they would often maim or destroy the whole population of a hen-house or field of lambs, rather than take one, or perhaps a couple to assuage it and its family's appetite. An interesting tale of a man in Melton who, in the 1880's maintained on his smallholding a number of chickens in a wired structure as a means of eking a living, was chagrined to find that a fox had not only entered his compound, but to discover all around the wrecked and savaged remains of some 60 chickens - his livelihood was gone at a stroke. Whilst clearing the carnage it is said that he disturbed Reynard and his vixen cosily ensconced in a newly-made lair under the soil, complete with 5 newly-born offspring. Man was required to maintain the upper hand in the pecking order of the animal kingdom if he was to survive and if the consequence of the chase or hunt inspired a popular sport, then logic was to prevail.</div>
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The famous Quorn Hunt created and housed its first collection - or pack - of hounds at Quorndon, near to Loughborough and by the end of the 18th century, as Meynell was approaching the end of his life, the only place in England which anybody who was anybody would choose to be found hunting, it was in the fields of Leicestershire and if you were a person of sufficient wealth or possessed <i>gravitas </i>of social order, the only place to reside during the season of the long and dark winter days was the increasingly important and affluent town of Melton Mowbray which was soon to gain the soubriquet of 'Cream of the Shires.'</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Today, to hunt down a fox with the purpose or consequence of taking its life is forbidden by legislation, this being the political consequence of a lingering and socially divided population in a period of increasing social disapproval and political bias, but ironically, at the time of its very inception all those many years ago, Mr Meynell </span><i style="text-align: left;">et al</i><span style="text-align: left;"> had urged circumspection of its participants and a plea for discipline amongst them in a desire to placate such dissenters and indeed, the long-term residents of the land over which they hoped to ride. A missive from an anonymous nobleman to the </span><i style="text-align: left;">Sporting Magazine</i><span style="text-align: left;"> in 1792, addressed to his agent in these very shires read as follows;</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-size: x-small;">"I must desire that all those tenants who have shewn themselves friends to the several fox-hunts in your neighbouring counties, Lord Spencer's, The Duke of Rutland's, Mr. Meynell's and Lord Stamford's - may have the offer and refusal of their farms on easy and moderate terms. But those who destroy foxes or otherwise interrupt gentlemen's diversions - send me their names and addresses! ... my sole object is the good of the community."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(<span style="text-align: center;">See an excellent description of the sport of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fox_hunting" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">fox-hunting</span></a><span style="text-align: center;"> at this wikipedia page.)</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">"Where's Reynard Daddie?"</span></h3>
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Some 100 years later, with the sport of fox-hunting now well and truly established in Melton Mowbray, the Quorn Hunt was accepted as top billing with royalty, politicians, educators, thinkers and all of high society's most famous characters would descend on the small town during the winter months to overfill its many 'lodges' and 'boxes', bringing much wealth and business to the area. Most newspapers of the day employed correspondents to supply regular columns of reports from the fields, direct to the to the breakfast tables of the day and in 1889, 'C. H.,' a correspondent for <i>The Graphic, </i>a weekly sports magazine, seems to have taken himself away from the office in order to spend a few days in the town during the quieter days just preceding the start of yet another season, which was usually just towards the end of October. His mention of names and places along his week's sojourn, ring very true of today's Melton Mowbray, even after a further 100 years have passed on by. </div>
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(The photos are mine.)<br />
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<span class="s1"><b>MELTON OUT OF SEASON</b></span></h2>
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'September is hardly the month that a lover of the chase would select for a visit to the headquarters of sport, the Nimrods and “fair Dianas’ who form its chief attraction being at that period of the year, are as the French say, “conspicuous by their absence.” Wishing, however, to see the place in its normal state, and profiting by the offer of delightful quarters in the house of one of the leading patrons of the locality, I passed a week there very agreeably, and had ample opportunity of rendering myself as familiar with the town and its immediate neighbourhood as an “outsider” could reasonably desire. </div>
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Burton End in the rush hour!</h3>
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<span class="s1">Melton Mowbray, statistically speaking, contains nearly six thousand inhabitants, and according to the railway manuals, is distant from the metropolis one hundred an five miles. The town is pleasantly situated in a valley encircled by gently sloping hills, and approached by well-kept roads which, were they endowed with speech, might say, with Wordsworth’s little girl, “We are seven.” With the exception of a fine old church, whose chimes play the “Blue Bells of Scotland” every Thursday at mid-day, Melton boasts nothing remarkable for architectural beauty; its principal streets are narrow and ill-paved, but by way of compensation, asphalte is laid down on the footpaths of most of the aforementioned seven roads, in some cases for nearly a mile, thereby ensuring a dry walk in winter to the delicately-shod Meltonian belles. There are three capital hotels - the George, the Bell, and the Harborough - affording comfortable quarters for hunting bachelors; the two latter, moreover, are renowned for an excellent <i>cuisine, </i>the staple product of the locality, the celebrated Melton pork pie, being doubtless an invariable adjunct to the breakfast table. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">It may parenthetically be mentioned that, whereas in other parts of the country, the term “hall” is usually, and indiscriminately applied to villas and hunting-boxes, often possessing no more claim to the distinction than the classic abode of Mr. Squeers, almost every one of any pretension in and about Melton bears the more modest designation of “Lodge,” one of the few exceptions being the house in the High Street [Sherrard Street] occupied of late years during the winter months by the Duke of Portland, and known as The Limes. By far the most important of these is Egerton Lodge, the residence of Elizabeth, Countess of Wilton, and her husband, Mr. Arthur Pryor - a large house, or rather, two houses in one, situated on a rising ground at the entrance of Melton from the Leicester Road, and overlooking a pretty garden. The two remaining “Lodges” in the town worthy of the name are Coventry Lodge, opposite the Railway station and North Lodge, formerly occupied by Mr. John Coupland, for fourteen years the popular Master of the “Quorn.” </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Leaving Egerton Lodge on the right, and proceeding for a short distance along the Leicester Road, we turn to the left above the railway and pass the pretty cottage inhabited by Lady Grant, Widow of the late president of the Royal Academy, adjoining the house and grounds of Mr. William Chaplin. On the summit of the hill, facing the north, is Mowbray Lodge, a brick villa of rather pretentious architecture, formerly rented by Mr. Barclay, the owner of Bendigo; and from thence runs the road to Dalby, of which, from a picturesque point of view, the less said the better. Eastward from the railway station begins the more frequented Burton road, on the left of which stands Craven Lodge, the residence of Captain Baldock, his nearest neighbour being the popular Mr. Beaumont Lubbock. Two miles further on, another nobility of the hunting field, Captain Ashton, has established his quarters, within easier reach of the “meets” than falls to the lot of the lady equestrian <i>par excellence</i>, Mrs Sloane Stanley, who lives five miles from Melton. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Passing under the Great Northern at the end of the town, we come to Scalford Road, and notice on the right the ivy-covered snuggery until recently tenanted by the late Mr. Behrens, one of the most hospitable Amphytryons [host] of the sporting fraternity. Higher up the hill are the respective abodes of two local tradesmen facing each other on the opposite sides of the way, and forming the last link in this direction between suburban civilisation and the open country. It is worth worth while prolonging our walk beyond the village of Scalford, from which point a magnificent view is obtainable of the vale of Belvoir and its distant castle. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5iveq6eTaovQ6cjtCvjtX-S3gw4JKtbWIYtCj1XXnRypSjs0S9lRd2xD2_mES3rz9OM6Q7nWZrdH4BXbg6Y3kVgG9r9qVbwUpg2PbEY3UdqX72n_KGd0ZhMkghwt2eO3zAdcJewUfCXw2/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-12-13+at+19.51.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5iveq6eTaovQ6cjtCvjtX-S3gw4JKtbWIYtCj1XXnRypSjs0S9lRd2xD2_mES3rz9OM6Q7nWZrdH4BXbg6Y3kVgG9r9qVbwUpg2PbEY3UdqX72n_KGd0ZhMkghwt2eO3zAdcJewUfCXw2/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-12-13+at+19.51.31.jpg" height="247" width="400" /></a><span class="s1">To my mind, the prettiest road in the neighbourhood is that leading to Nottingham, bordered on either side by the freshest and greenest pasture lands, every now and then disclosing a glimpse of of some rustic homestead, with its well-piled hayricks and browsing cattle. About a mile from the town, on the right, stands a large white house, built on a rising ground, but sheltered from the north-east winds by clump of trees at the back; this is Sysonby, the residence of the Hon. Major Stirling, and his deservedly popular wife. Three miles beyond it - although I can only speak from hearsay, having pushed my investigations so far - is the seat of another staunch supporter of the hunt, Mr. Turner Farleigh. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">The village of Thorpe, a mile and a quarter from Melton, had been recommended to me as a suitable object for a morning stroll; a quaint old church, however, its sole attraction, hardly repaid me for a flat and uninteresting walk, and I marvelled how the owner of a (then) unfinished hunting box, plainly visible from the road on my way thither, could so possibly have selected so unpromising a site. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">In the course of my rambles through the highways and byways of the little town, I discovered in the High Street a public-house bearing the curious sign of “Old Bishop Blase” and in a more remote locality came across a lane on uninviting aspect, but dignified by the imposing name of Pall Mall. Shortly after, my attention was attracted by an announcement in a shop window, purporting that the occupier of the premises exercised the profession of “razor rectifier.” Whether the phrase be peculiar to this part of Leicestershire or not I am unable to say; but it struck me as original, and I made a note of it. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">C.H. 1889</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Text only, reproduced from '<i>The</i> </span><i style="font-size: small;">Graphic' </i><span style="font-size: x-small;">of</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> October 18th, 1889)</span><br />
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765292921781481944.post-75416462718074780162014-10-31T20:41:00.000+00:002017-06-02T14:14:43.867+01:00THE GREEN GREEN FIELDS OF HOME<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Isaac William Wright - 1914 and all that!</span></h2>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><b>A Proletarian Protest.</b></span></h3>
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Anyway, all of this talk of the future is purely bye the bye and I use it only as a preamble to unlock the memory of a long forgotten narrative of events which took place in the town a century ago, in an era when socially aware terms such as '<i>core strategy', 'nimbyism' and 'credit crunch'</i> had not yet filtered through to the lexicons of local planners. In 1914, the never to be forgotten year that was to generate 'The war to end all wars', a proletarian battle of great personal intensity and pent-up public feeling was coming to the boil in the hallowed hall's of the local government of the small market town of Melton Mowbray, in Leicestershire in which an impecunious young father of a large and hungry family and supported by a growing number of angry residents, were endeavouring to loosen the grip on shackles steadfastly maintained by local landlords. </div>
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As a backdrop to the situation which had existed at the end of Queen Victoria's long reign of great pomp and circumstance, it could be said the the Edwardian era was to inherit one of the worst periods ever of social poverty and general decay of living standards in this country - and across Europe - as the population grew to be more and more industrialised and mechanised. A great movement of people was to occur as whole families flocked into the urban areas following decades of an agricultural existence of manual labour on the farms. As much as 80 per cent of the working population had once been classified as agricultural labourers - 'ag labs' - but this <i>status quo</i> transformed dramatically as thousands gave up their ploughshares and pitchforks to migrate to work at benches in the new factories and to take up work on the booming railway networks. But as the proverb goes, <i>'... its an ill wind that blows no one any good ...",</i> the wind was to continue to blow exceedingly well for the landed gentry and other landlords who delighted in the <i>status quo</i> of filling their generally wretched, overcrowded and usually dilapidated houses with the saddest and poorest specimens of mankind, desperate to house their usually large families.</div>
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House building at this time was largely carried out by profit-seeking private builders and business keen to rent. In the cities and urban locations they mostly constructed extended streets of basic terraced red brick houses and these new communities on the edges of towns were to a great extent, unplanned. A great majority of the population tended towards renting such homes due to the fact that borrowing cash and arranging mortgages had not yet become commonplace and only the richest people could thus afford to become homeowners. The parish purse was never able to provide houses for the bulk of the working people and such provision would later need to be instigated by Act of Parliament. In the meantime, in the smaller conurbations such as market towns like Melton Mowbray, the lingering problems of poor housing increased steadily as the population numbers spiralled and in the environment of high density, unorganised neighbourhoods, overcrowding became openly obvious and commonplace. Many families could be found huddled in the dark and unsanitary courts of squalid and frequently derelict homes, often without facilities or natural daylight. Across the country, pressure was increasingly placed on the Government in London to look into the issue, but a marked reluctance was evident in most areas, especially by landlords and as mentioned, mainly with the question of a lack of funds in the case of provision by the Parish.</div>
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Geographically, the urban limits of the town of Melton Mowbray at the turn of the last century would have contained around 3000 persons and it is interesting today to peruse an Ordinance Survey map of the time. In the example shown, which depicts the land bordered by Leicester Street and High Street, alleyways, places and yards are shown lined with what were then the homes of a struggling community, many ancient in origin and others often crowded by one family renting one room - or even sharing of families. These 'hutches' proliferated, cheek by jowl, often abutting the splendorous, lavishly furnished hunting boxes and gentlemen's clubs of the winter visitors and not to ignore the provision of more than a sufficient number of public ale houses ever willing to entertain and assuage the thirsts of the proletariat: there was no television then! It is from this desperate environment that my 'local hero' emerged to put his head above the parapet - because you can guarantee that his public 'whinings' would later be held against him - in order to breach his natural subservience. From a public platform he would plead his case of perceived injustice to the fathers of the local community in a hopeful effort to achieve justice and compassion for himself and his fellow wage earners.</div>
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A densely populated area in the centre of Melton Mowbray C 1910.</h3>
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A Full House at the Town Hall.</h3>
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<span class="s1">For more than three hours on the evening of Wednesday, 2nd September, 1914, the Town Hall in Nottingham Street at Melton Mowbray was the venue for Mr Edward Leonard, an Inspector of the Local Government Board, to convene a meeting with the object of attempting to solve certain housing problems relating to the town. The <i>Grantham Journal</i> was in attendance at this important civic occasion to relay a report of the proceedings for their readers and to provide me with the information I required all these 100 years later. The tabled topic of the agenda was designated:</span></div>
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<span class="s1">‘Whereas complaint has been made to the Local Government Board, under Section 10 of the <i>Housing, Town Planning, and amp;c., Act, 1909</i>, by inhabitant householders of the Urban District of Melton Mowbray, that the Council of the said Urban District have failed to exercise their powers under Part III. of the <i>Housing of the Working Classes Act, 1890</i>, in a case where those powers ought to have been exercised.’</span></blockquote>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Beyond the presence of representatives of the Urban District Council and the three or four signatories to the petition to the Local Government Board, there was not more than a dozen other townspeople present, which might have suggested that the housing question was not, just at that time at any rate, a burning one. It was also probable that in 1914, such public expostulations of anger by the working classes was perhaps considered a little unseemly. The principal complainant, a Mr Wright, together with two other brave co-petitioners, Messrs. Beckworth and Kirk were ready and waiting together with a couple of dozen members of the Urban (Town) Council. </span></div>
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<b>... and the Complainant.</b></h3>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hB5izDzLzzQ/VMAcHBUHP5I/AAAAAAAADJ8/XBEUXrijwpg/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hB5izDzLzzQ/VMAcHBUHP5I/AAAAAAAADJ8/XBEUXrijwpg/s1600/images.jpg" width="122" /></a>So who was my plebeian hero that night, confronted by more than a quorum of starched collared and bowler hatted public servants, who had brought himself into the lion's den to argue on behalf of the poor and down-trodden of this small market town? Step forward Isaac William Wright, born in 1872 in the village of Whissendine, just over the Rutland and Leicestershire border. Isaac was the 7th and last born child of 'ag-lab' Richard and his wife Eliza (Hibbit) Wright, his older siblings consisting of two brothers and four sisters. Marrying in 1857 his parents seemed to have moved regularly from village to village in the Rutland area until Richard was to die, apparently unexpectedly, at the age of just 49 years when Isaac was only just 8 years old. How Eliza Wright, who was a native of the nearby village of Exton, coped with her sudden loss and deprivation of a wage earner is not recorded but in 1881 she is to be found living at Hollis Place, Whissendine and employed as a 'charwoman'; her children Henry, Harriet, Eliza, and Isaac were still close to her.</div>
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By 1891, Isaac was 19 years of age and living at '<i>The Mill</i>' in Loddington, Rutland with his older brother George and new sister-in-law, Mary Ann. His mother Eliza was by now 'living on the Parish' with her daughter Harriet and her first grandchild William H. Wright who was born in 1888. Then by 1893, Isaac seems to have arrived in the Melton Mowbray area having gained employment with the Midland Railway Company locally and that year he was to meet and marry Sarah Richardson, a resident of nearby Frisby-on-the-Wreake. in 1901 the young family were living in rented property at No. 3 Hearn's Yard, off Leicester Street in Melton along with their first three children, John 6, Ethel 2 and Thomas 1; also resident with the family in the small property was Isaac's ageing mother Eliza, now 68 and alone.</div>
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Ten more years on, the Wright family were still apparently well ensconsed at their Leicester Street home and by now five further children had been born. Of these, two baby girls had died more or less at birth and Isaac - by now working as an asphalter - was responsible for the wellbeing and general health of his ageing widowed mother Eliza, his wife Sarah and their six surviving young children. On top of this, it seems that his rented living accommodation was minimal to say the least and increasingly fired by a general and frequent discourse amongst his contemporaries of what was then considered to be a 'hot potato' issue, he had learned what he could of '<i>Section 10'</i> of the <i style="text-align: start;">Housing, Town Planning, Act, 1909</i> and to his position as an <i>'inhabitant householder</i>'. Armed with his limited knowledge and burning to set matters right, he had had taken up cudgels on behalf of many others in the town in an attempt to ameliorate matters, he had written to Parliament to discuss the involvement of local officialdom in his now vexed question of the provision of suitable and sufficient social housing. (100 years on and this is is as contentious an issue today as it was then!)</div>
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The House and Town Planning Act, 1909.</h3>
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Basically, to do away for once and for all the concept of back to back housing which was considered a great health hazard, the basic object of the <i>' Housing and Town Planning Act, 1909' </i>had been conceived to provide suitable housing for the working classes by employing planning schemes in conjunction with Medical Officers of Health to provide for the establishment of public committees to debate relevant local issues. Government money would be provided and acquisition of land would be arranged in suitable and needy cases. But like many boroughs across the country, Melton Mowbray was to drag its feet on the matter and this reluctance to comply was the kernel of the much talked about, imposition of <i>Section 10</i>. which provided:</div>
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'... so far as it concerns metropolitan boroughs, confers upon the Board power, where a complaint is made to them by four inhabitant householders of the borough that the local authority have failed to exercise their powers under part II, or Part III of the principal Act in cases where those powers ought to have exercised, to cause a public local inquiry to be held. If after holding such an inquiry the Board are satisfied that there has been such a failure on the part of the local authority, they are empowered to declare the authority to be in default, and to make an Order directing that authority, within a time limited by the Order, to carry out such works and do such other things as may be mentioned in the Order for the purpose of remedying the default.' </blockquote>
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So Parliament had providing the bullets, but would local government, many of whom were landlords in their own right, load the pistols? Isaac Wright and his co-protesters - Alfred Beckworth and John Kirk <i>et al</i> - were hoping that they would.</div>
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<span class="s1">Referring to Mr Wright as the ‘complainant’ the Inspector opened the meeting, asking, </span>“Can you please state your case?’ to which Mr. Wright was to reply;<br />
“I have the names of those people who have signed the petition but I have not had enough time yet to get amongst them. I was to see you this afternoon and these people were at their work in different places about the town. The Board has had the statements of these people and for myself, I am confident that it is now quite time enough for the Council to have taken proper steps under the <i>Housing and Town Planning Act, 1890</i>. I have therefore made a formal complaint over the matter."</div>
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<span class="s1">The Inspector: “ Are you telling us here today that the District Council should build housing for rent under part III of the Housing of the Working Classes Act? I take it that this is your point at issue. Are you bringing to this hearing any evidence to substantiate the grounds on which you wish to take issue as to why the authorities should build? </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Isaac Wright replied. “Well the fact is quite evident in anybody’s mind ..” to which the Inspector retorted,</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“I am not concerned right now with what other people might think about this matter, I require to know what evidence you have of it, personally.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Wright continued: "... they should have done this building work years ago …’’</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Why so?” interjected the Inspector.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“... because the houses that are in the town are inadequate for the needs of the many workpeople who live in them, many with families to be responsible for.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“What makes you think there is a lack of dwellings in the town then?”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Well sir, you have been out and about with me today, and you have seen for yourself …”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“That is not the point; I am asking you, why you necessarily think so. The point is that it this matter has been put before the Local Government Board, but why is it that you think there is a lack of such new building?”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“There is a great lack …”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“But what makes you think so - is there any overcrowding to your personal knowledge?”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">To this latest interruption Isaac Wright was to reply, “ … yes, I am one of the people in the town who has been complained of by the Council for the overcrowding at my house. I have received official notice from them but I cannot get another house due to the ongoing problem, this on account of my many children. At a Council meeting recently, Mr Bowley had stated that he personally would not let a house of his to such a family and for this reason I have not applied to him for a house. The Local Government Board is well aware that I have offered as much as 6s. a week for a house to rent and this has still been denied me because of my children. There is me, my wife, six children all under eleven and also the children’s grandmother. We pay 3s. for two rooms upstairs and two down and I work as a plate-layer at the local railway station earning from 18s 8d to 24s 8d per week, from which I would be happy to pay as much as 4s per week for rent.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The Inspector asked Mr Wright exactly what type of house he would like to live in, to which he replied.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Let us say for a start, a living-room and scullery with at least three bedrooms for which I would happily pay 4s a week.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">When asked in general terms as to how many houses he thought needed to be provided in the locality, Mr Wright stated:</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“I think accordingly that as the matter has been investigated today, at least 50 would be a reasonable and normal number and I think that a fair rental at today’s prices would be of 4s. per week.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Committee member, Richard Barker was then to ask: “At a rental of 4s. a week, what do you think the cost of a building such a house would be?” </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Mr Wright replied: </span>“Well if they built one odd house, it would cost more proportionally than if fifty were built. I can’t guess at the price as I stand here today but I agree with your suggestion that it might be anything from £175 to £200 per house and probably up to £220 with the additional purchase of the land on which it stands.” </div>
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He then detailed to the hearing some of the efforts he had made in order to acquire a suitable dwelling for his large family.</div>
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<span class="s1">Two more witnesses who had attended for the meeting and appearing as inhabitant householders in support of Mr Wright’s ideals, were a Mr Beckworth and a Mr Kirk, both also railway employees. They supported Mr. Wright’s evidence to the hearing and had signed the petition due to the fact that they too had suffered from a scarcity of suitable and available local housing for some considerable time. In reply to a question from Mr Barker, both admitted that they did not quite understand the bit in the petition that they had signed and delivered to the Local Government Board, which apparently stated that; ‘…half the houses in Melton were unfit for habitation.” They conceded that if there were in fact over 1,600 houses in the town, they would not like to say that 800 of them were considered to be unfit.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Mr Barker, speaking on behalf of the Council, informed the hearing that he and the Inspector, just that same day, had made a thorough physical and personal examination of the district spoken of and that he would be able to form his own opinion as to the current state of it. He further submitted that in the first place, the petitioners appearing today needed to prove their case and that in his contention they had failed so to do. He said that he was in possession of an official list of empty houses and that taking an average amount of time he was confident that the supply of houses for habitation was easily manageable and sufficient for the demands of the class of property in question.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">“Do you mean working-class dwellings?” the Inspector interjected.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Mr Barker confirmed that he did and continued to speak of the probability of providing such accommodation, if it was indeed proved to be lacking, to be supplied by private enterprise and thus by-passing any assistance from or demands of the public authority and that further, the Urban Council was of the opinion that any previous demand had always been met by private enterprise and further, that they had no reason to believe that things would be any different in the near future. He went on to suggest that several builders in the town were constantly found to be building the class of house now being debated and that the local Council currently had plans on deposit for something like 36 cottages of the type which number should prove ample for any demand the future might bring. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">A further point which he wished to emphasise was the fact that in the present state of things - i.e the ongoing war in Europe - the town was looking forward to a large reduction in the number of occupied houses. He also drew attention to the fact that many of the inhabitants of the borough had signed to do their duty to King and Country and that there was every expectation in the case of many young married couples, their home would in fact be given up with the wife and children returning to live at their parents home.</span><br />
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<span class="s1">Adjournment</span></h3>
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<span class="s1">And so, with the convenient threat of a pending war, the whole matter was side-footed into the long grass, more than likely to the great satisfaction of the Parish paymasters and the sleeping landlords. The war stayed around for far longer than anyone at that meeting could have ever imagined and the matter was postponed until hostilities did eventually cease. But I like to think that the agitation instigated by the likes of Isaac Wright and his contemporaries, was to later produce a watershed moment with the passing in 1919 of the <i>Addison Act, </i>as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Housing,_Town_Planning,_%26c._Act_1919#cite_note-1"><span style="color: red;">wikipedia</span></a> explains:</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">The </span><b style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px; text-align: start;">Housing, Town Planning, etc. Act 1919</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> (c 35) was an A</span>ct<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> of the Parliament of the United Kingdom. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">It was also known as the </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px; text-align: start;">Addison Act</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> after Minister of Health, Dr Christopher Addison, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;"> the then Minister for Housing. The Act was passed to allow the building of new houses after the First World War </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 17.27272605896px; line-height: 25.4545440673828px;">and marked the start of a long 20th century tradition of state-owned housing, which would much later evolve into council estates.</span></blockquote>
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I presently live in a house in Melton Mowbray which was built in 1921 on land which was released under this important social Act, a subject about which I hope to write in the future. In the meantime I will raise a glass or two to the memory of plebeian Isaac Wright and his long-suffering wife and family, together with his brave friends of 1914. </div>
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Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14606755884587940485noreply@blogger.com0