A Church Living on the Edge!

The oldest part of Hellesdon is along Low Road, on the outskirts of Norwich and away from the vast, and all too familiar, Hellesdon housing estates on the other side of the Drayton Road. The village and its parish church lay in the settlement of Lower Hellesdon, beyond the former Hellesdon Hospital; this relatively small area still preserves something of its former rural character, despite its proximity to both the estates and modern Costessey. It is indeed fortunate to be on the fringe of the present-day Hellesdon community; for if it were to be in its centre then the original village would, by now, be suffocated by what must be a case of over development – a continuing trend one would suspect, that can only get worst. On the face of it – and so far, the village and its parish church of St Mary’s are indeed the fortunate ones!

Hellesdon (St Mary's)2
St Mary’s Church, Lower Hellesdon, Norwich. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

St Mary’s is not the grandest or prettiest church to be found in Norfolk, indeed, some might feel that it is somewhat odd – from an architectural point of view that is! St Mary’s is small but tall for its size – if that makes sense? Furthermore, most parts appear disproportionate to the other. Take the southern facing porch for instance; it appears too tall for such a squat Saxon Nave, and with quite small and simple windows which let light enter the very small room over the main porch entrance; this, in turn, allows access into the body of the church. Entry to the small elevated room above the porch is via an external stair turret, as seen to the left of the porch. As for the lead-covered bell turret; well, this struggles in its attempt to look like a spire, above the short ‘stumpy’ Nave which, in turn, is not helped by the addition of a north aisle – all be it having been built way back in the 14th century.

St Mary’s has, in the distance past, been referred to as the ‘church without land’ and is recorded as far back as in the Domesday Book of 1086. It is also believed, by some at least, that the old church or chapel that stood on this site marked the spot where King Edmund was interred and martyred in 869. One version of the story goes like this:

Hellesdon (St Edmund)1
A medieval illumination depicting the death of Edmund the Martyr on 20 November 869 by the Vikings. Photo: Wikipedia.

In 985, Abbo of Fleury, who at Ramsey Abbey (Cambridgeshire) compiled the ‘Life of St Edmund’, in which he writes of hearing the Archbishop relate a story that came from a young man who had heard it from a very old man who claimed to have been King Edmund’s armour bearer at the time of his death. On his capture, Edmund was whipped and tied to a tree, and shot with arrows. He was then beheaded and his head thrown into a bramble thicket in Hegelisdun Wood – hence the association with Hailesduna, present-day Hellesdon? The King’s head was later found, guarded by a wolf, and according to the story, the body was buried in a small chapel built nearby for the purpose. The site of the chapel is believed, again by some, to be where the present church of St Mary’s stands. However, some suggest otherwise, with Lyng (only a few miles away) offered up as one possibility!

Joe Mason wrote a blog back in 2015 when he said: “……..I must outline some of the story concerning the king’s [Edmund] death. This tale was written down by a French monk about a hundred years after the events described took place. In the manuscript [see previous quote] the location that was attacked by the invading Danes was a few miles downstream from Lyng at Hellesdon. This event is commemorated on the village sign at Lower Hellesdon, but for some unfathomable reason it is not believed by any academic historians. I think they must live in their ivory towers and have never got their feet muddy in Norfolk……The monk goes on to say that the King was buried a few miles away from Hellesdon, and a humble chapel was erected over his tomb [at Lyng?]. The king’s body did not stay in Norfolk very long, and well before a century had passed his body was re-interred at the place now known as Bury St Edmunds. The king’s body lay in Norfolk for less than 75 years and to this day everyone is unsure where…..”

Joseph C. W. Mason’s latest book ‘St Edmund and the Vikings 869–1066’ (see the above link) says so much more on the subject.

Not to put too finer a point on it – this story remains one of dispute, depending whether you live in Norfolk or Suffolk. But Hellesdon did stake its claim when images of St Mary’s Church, the dead body of King Edmund, and the wolf that stood guard over Edmund, found their way on to the village sign.

Hellesdon (Village Sign)1
Hellesdon Village Sign
The sign is located in front of the Hellesdon Parish Hall. It depicts St Mary’s church and the body of the martyred King Edmund, guarded by a wolf.
© Copyright Evelyn Simak – – geograph.org.uk/p/850757

It used to be thought that the whole of the present church was 14th century, but now historians recognise that both the Nave and Chancel are much earlier – possibly between 1040 and 1120. The clue lies in the fact that both these parts of the church are built with whole flints laid in mortar, whereas the walls of the 14th century North Aisle are built of ‘knapped’ flints – whole flints having been cut to reveal flat shiny Surfaces.

Hellesdon (St Mary's)2a
St Mary’s from a more south-easterly direction. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

St Mary’s may well have languished in insignificancy, or even faded completely from history, had it not been for a group of 14th century benefactors. One happened to be John de Heylesdon, he being a local man who became a citizen and merchant of London; he was supported by his wife Joan. Then there were John’s parents, Richard de Heylesdon and Beatrice; following close behind was Walter de Berney, yet another local man who also became a citizen and merchant of London – but he reaching the heights of Sheriff there in 1360.

The church might also be grateful to John de Heylesdon for its bell, which is the oldest surviving in Norwich and an item which, along with the contruction of the bellcote and steeple, was probably funded by de Heylesdon. This belief in his generosity is supported by the fact that this solitary bell is inscribed “JOHNES DE HEYLESDON ME FECIT FIERI IN HONORE MATRS CRESTI WILELLMVS DE NORWYCO ME FECIT” – Translated as ‘John de Helesdon caused me to be in honore of the Mother of Christ. William of Norwich made me’. As for its sound; well, this has been familiar to the Hellesdon community for generations, but it is probably very likely that few have ever actually seen it as access to the bellcote is very restricted, and in this day and age deemed perilous.

St Marys (Christopher Codling)
The rear of St Mary’s from a north easterly direction. Photo: Christopher Codling 2018

According to Freda M. Wilkins-Jones, who compiled a very readable booklet, titled ‘Notes on the History of St Mary’s Church, Hellesdon’ (and from which the historical content of this blog is largely based – incidentally, copies of which can be purchased  at the church for a mere £2 donation); also included reference to another incumbent of St Mary’s:

“In 1362/63 the three men [mentioned above] obtained the manor and advowson – the right to present a clergyman to the living. It appears that Richard de Heylesdon had died by 1379 when the other two men presented Richard de Taseburgh to the living. They could have followed the example of other church benefactors and replaced the old building [St Mary’s] with one entirely new. However, it seems they loved the building, which even then, was old and contented themselves by making additions to it.”

Hellesdon (St Mary's_brass)
St Mary’s church – brass
Brass to a former rector, Richard de Thaseburgh (1389), mounted on the north wall having formerly been situated on the floor. The brass lettering is in Latin. Photo: © Copyright Evelyn Simak

These additions came in the form of a newly constructed north aisle and, it is believed, a two-storey porch on the south side of the chancel. Credit for these must clearly go to John de Heylesdon and his group of fellow benefactors. The addition to the 14th century north aisle runs the entire length of the church and, in effect, doubles its size. Of course, at the time of construction, little thought could have been given to the aesthetic nature of having an additional wing on only one side of the church, along with a disproportionate sized porch on the opposite south side; these only contribute to the overall ‘odd’ appearance of the present-day building.

Hellesdon (St Mary's)4
A view of St Mary’s showing the west side of the porch on the right, through to the older nave with its bell-tower, then the 14th century north aisle and finally the new 2012 addition on the left. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

On the outside, St Mary’s is pleasantly surrounded on all four sides by a neatly kept churchyard, broken only by one path on the north side which connects the church proper with the church hall, a less than well-kept car park, but a neatly kept churchyard extention beyond. On the south side a path connects the front entrance to a war memorial on the right, a small parking area with graves beyond, and the front porch to the left.

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The porch entrance © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

Into the porch and one is met with a neat, clean and plain looking enclosure which because of its simplicity has something of a calming effect as one prepares to enter into the nave beyond. On the porch ceiling are two bosses of a man and a woman – who are they the visitor might well ask. No one really knows, but one could reasonably speculate that they are perhaps the portraits of John and Joan de Heylesdon who, together with other benefactors, came to the rescue of St Mary’s centuries ago.

Again, according to Freda M. Wilkins-Jones: “the construction of the porch partly obstructed one of the original nave windows which, when viewed from the churchyard shows that part of the window was filled in. What is not so obvious is that the other part of that window still exists, as an alcove in the room over the porch. This small but charming room, with its lovely views of the southern part of the churchyard and the Wensum Valley beyond, its fireplace and chimney with its ‘squint’ (which at one time gave a view of the high altar) is now used by the Sunday School. There can be few Sunday Schools priviledged to have accommodation of such character.”

Hellesdon (St Mary's)8a
Inside the porch © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

Stepping inside, one can see a well-kept interior which, nevertheless, is somewhat austere, given its narrowness and height. It begs the question as to what does this church really need in this day and age? But this question doesn’t detract from some of the attractive aspects of this church. Take the low-sided window in the south wall of the chancel for instance one of around fifty such windows to survive in Norfolk Churches. We are told that in medieval times it would have had a wooden shutter through which, during the daily celebration of Mass, a handbell would be rung so that those working at their tasks in the fields, or their homes, could pause, cross themselves and so take part in the service. Fortunately, this particular window has not been filled in; however, in 1858 when this window was unglazed, thieves entered through it, after which, it was glazed but the shutter and ironwork retained. Sometime thereafter the wooden shutter itself was removed and in 1953 a beautiful stain-glass window was installed, depicting the Virgin Mary and Child; this replaced the window damaged by bombing in 1942. Despite this, in 1987 it was vandalised, but was quickly repaired with an external transparent screen being mounted to prevent further assaults.

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Today, the window looks like this. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.
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A view from the nave towards the chancel, and a place for quiet contemplation and a read either side of church services! Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

The present two-manual organ on the north side of the church was built by F. Browne and came from St Mary’s Church in Eastwell, Kent in 1949. Initially, the organ console was placed in the north aisle itself so that the organist sat with his back to the congregation. The carved lattace screen depicting the Benedicite was positioned to mask the organ pipes. The console was later moved to its present position so that the organist now sits behind a stone screen with his back to the chancel and the choir. For a while, the Benedicite screen looked somewhat isolated until an oak-sided altar and furnishings were place below the screen in 1970.

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A View along the north aisle towards the Benedicite screen which hides the organ and vestry beyond. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

John de Heylesdon was granted his wish to be buried in St Mary’s, alongside the tomb of his parents which was originally situated in what was then the Chantry; it and three other tombstones remained there until 1949 when they were moved into the main north aisle proper in order to make way for the organ. Set in the floor of the north aisle and protected by a blue carpet are the brasses to the memory of John de Heylesdon and Joan his wife; theirs is written in Latin; that of his parents are written in Norman French. 

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The above Brass, depicting Richard de Heylesdon and Beatrice, is written in Norman French. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.
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The above Brass, depicting John de Heylesdon and Joan, is written in Latin. Photo: © Copyright Haydn Brown 2019.

Despite what has been said about this church, it remains lovely place for many and, thank goodness, it has a special character of its own which needs preserving; the church is unique and clearly provides an invaluable service to the Hellesdon community – all be it from its fringes. With this in mind, would the thoughts of a visitor be admissible? Such as one who suggests that the powers-to-be may have a mind to consider the replacement of its Victorian pews with ‘flexible’ seating more in keeping with present-day needs.

Those who may feel that this suggestion would be sacrilege should ponder on the fact that many church pews date from just the 19th century before when, churches and their interiors were more open and flexible in their use. It is only over the last 150 years or so that congregations have had to experience rigid pews; this period of time has been but minuscule in the context of the time church worship has been in existence. So, has the time come to get rid of pews? Certainly, with St Mary’s, the present access along the central aisle, together with the amount of space in and around the point where the nave meets the chancel, suggests possible problems for the likes of wedding ceremonies and funerals – heaven forbid that any pall-bearer should ever trip over!

THE END

Sources:
Wilkins-Jones, F.M. ‘Notes on the History of St Mary’s Church, Hellesdon’ – highly recommended to anyone who would like to read a much fuller explanation of St Mary’s history.
http://www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/hellesdonmary/hellesdonmary.htm
Plus a personal visit and a quick session of note-taking before the expected ‘graffiti hunting’ visitors turned up.
Banner Heading Photo: A Fine Day in February (Hellesdon) (undated) by John Middleton (Norfolk Museums Collections).

 

 

 

 

 

Celia Fiennes: Rides Side Saddle To Norwich!

Celia Fiennes lived at roughly the same time as Daniel Defoe. She was born in 1662 at Newton Toney, Salisbury, the daughter of a Colonel in Cromwell’s army. She is remarkable for the journeys she made throughout nearly every county of England, and the accounts she wrote about each one. She rode side-saddle, accompanied only by two servants. She travelled to improve her health, but also for personal adventure. Her account of her travels seems to have been written after her travels had largely ended, in 1702. She described both the great houses she visited and the developing new industries. She died in 1741.

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Guillaume Blaeu, Map of Great Britain and Ireland (1631), Wikimedia Commons.

As a 17th century English traveller, Celia Fiennes was vulnerable to robbery, getting lost and being swamped, or hedged in on poor English roads. As a woman, Fiennes faced added challenges and prejudices – as reflected in the popular English travel guides of the 16th and 17th centuries which asserted that “women who wandered too far afield were invariably suspicious, dishonest, and unchaste.” Nevertheless, early modern women did travel, and often quite extensively, with no “diminution of their moral fibre”. So we have the autonomous Fiennes, unmarried, travelling without a male companion of her social station, and accompanied only by a small retinue of servants; a woman who would certainly have stood out.

The original text of Fiennes is not divided into chapters and paragraphs are few. I have tried to separate her journey to Norwich into frequent separated paragraphs and brought some of her language and wording more into the modern era in order to assist the reader.

Celia Fiennes Writes:

“……..So to Norwich. Sometimes it was in view then lost again. To Beccles is 8 miles more which in all was 36 miles from Ipswich, but exceedingly long miles……… This is a little market town but it is the third biggest town in the County of Suffolk – Ipswich, Bury St Edmund and Beccles. Here was a good big meeting place of at least 400 hearers and they have a very good minister one Mr Killinghall; he is but a young man but seemed very serious. I was there on the Lords day. Sir Robert Rich is a great supporter of them and Contributed to building the meeting place which is very neat. He has a good house at the end of the town with fine gardens. There are no good buildings, the town being old timber and plaster work except his and one or two more. There is a pretty big market Cross and a great Market there. There is a handsome stone-built Church and a very good public minister whose name is Armstrong: he preaches very well, they say notwithstanding the town, it is a sad Jacobitish town.

Celia Fiennes (Beccles Church)
Beccles Church. Image: Public Domain

This [town]chooses no parliament men. At the town’s end one passes over the river Waveney on a wooden bridge railed with timber and so you enter into Norfolk: it is a low flat ground all here about, so that the least rain they are overflowed by the river and lie under water as they did when I was there, so that the road lay under water which is very unsafe for strangers to pass by reason of the holes and quick sands and loose bottom. The ordinary people both in Suffolk and Norfolk knit much and spin, some with the’ rock and fusoe’ as the French do, others at their wheels out in the street and lanes as one pass. It is from this town to Norwich 12 miles, and it is 10 to Yarmouth where they build some small ships, and is a harbour for them and where they victual them. Also, Harwich about 12 or 14 miles also, but the miles here as long again as about London and pretty deep way, especially after rain: these miles are much longer than most miles in Yorkshire.

Celia Fiennes (St Stephens Gate)
St Stephens Gate, Norwich: Henry Ninham engravings of 1864 copied John Kirkpatrick’s early 18th-century drawings of the outside of the gate. [NCM Todd Collection, vol. II, box 5, page 119]

Norwich opens to view a mile distance by the help of a hill whereon is a little village. As I observe most of the great towns and Cities have about them little villages as attendants or appendix’s to them which are a sort of suburbs, there being straggling houses for the most part all the way between the gates. You pass over a high bridge yet leads on over a high Causey [causeway] of a pretty length which looks somewhat dangerous being fenced with trenches from its banks (pretty deep) that’s on both sides to secure it from the water, and these trenches run in many places round the low grounds to drain them and which are employed to whiten and bleach their woollen stuff is the manufacture of the place. This long Causey brings you to the large stone bridge over the river into which those trenches empty themselves.

Celia Fiennes (City Walls)

Then you proceed to the City which is walled round full of towers Except on the river side which serves for the wall. They seemed the best in repair of any walled City I know though in some places there are little breaches, but the carving and battlements and towers look well. I entered the west gate. There are 12 gates in all and 36 Churches, which is to be seen on a clear day altogether from the Castle walls – I told myself 30 were there. They are built all of flints well headed or cut which makes them look blackish and shining. The streets are all well pitched with small stones and very clean, and many very broad streets: yet I entered in first [which] was very broad for 2 Coaches or carts to pass on either side, and in the middle was a great well house with a wheel to wind up the water for the good of the public. A Little further is a large pond walled up with brick as a man’s height with an entrance on one end. A Little further was a building on which they were at work, designed for a water house to supply ye town by pipes into their houses with water. At a Little distance was another such a pond walled in as I described before. These things fill up the middle of this spacious street which is for use and also ornament, ye spaces each side being so broad.

This brings you into a broad space called the Haymarket which is on a hill, a very steep descent all well pitched as before: this comes to another space for a market to sell hoggs in, and opens farther into divisions of buildings that begins several streets which runs off good lengths and are of a tolerable size. One runs along behind which is all for stalls for the County butchers that bring their meat for the supply of the town, which pay such a rent for them to the town. On the other side are houses of the town’s butchers, the inhabitants. By it is a Large market for fish, which are all at a little distance from the heart of the City, so it is not annoyed with them. There is a very large market place and hall and Cross for fruit and little things every day, and also a place under pillars for the Corn market.

Celia Fiennes (Fish Market)
The Old Fish Market, Norwich by Charles Hodgson (1769–1856) (attributed to) Image: Norfolk Museums Service

The building round here is esteemed, the best and here is the Town Hall, but all their buildings are of an old form, mostly in deep poynts and much tiling as has been observed before, and they plaster on laths which they strike out into squares like broad free stone on the outside, which makes their fronts look pretty well; and some they build high and contract the roofs resembling the London houses, but none of brick except some few beyond the river which are built of some of the rich factors like the London buildings. There is in the middle of the town the Duke of Norfolks house of Brick and stone, with several towers and turrets and balls yet looks well, with large gardens, but the inside is all demolished only the walls stand and a few rooms for offices, but nothing of state or tolerable for use.

Celia Fiennes (Dukes Palace)
The north side of Duke of Norfolk’s Palace, John Kirkpatrick 1710. Image: Courtesy of Norfolk County Council, at Picture Norfolk, and Reggie Unthank.

From the Castle Hill you see the whole City at once, being built round it: it is a vast place and takes up a large tract of ground, it is 6 miles in compass. Here is the County hall and Goal where the assizes are held and the Sessions. Nothing of the Castle remains but a green space, and under it is also a large space for the beast market, and 3 times in the year there is very great faire kept to which resort a vast concourse of people, and wares – a full trade. The whole City looks like what it is, a rich thriving industrious place; Saturday is their great market day. They have beside the town hall a hall distinct which is the scaling hall where their stuffs are all measured, and if they hold their breadths and lengths they are scaled, but if they are defective there is a fine laid on the owner and a private mark on the stuff which shows its deficiency.

There was also the mint which they coined, but since the old money is all new, coined into milled money, that ceases. Here there is a fine large Cathedral and very lofty, but nothing remarkable of monuments or else: by it is 3 hospitals for boys, girls and old people who spin yarn, as does all the town besides for the Crapes, Calamancos and damasks which is the whole business of the place. Indeed, they are arrived to a great perfection in work, so fine and thin and glossy; their pieces are 27 yards in Length and their price is from 30 shillings to 3 pound as they are in fineness. A man can weave 13 yards a day, I saw some weaving; they are all employed in spinning, knitting weaving, dying, scouring or bleaching stuffs. Their hospitals are well provided for; there are 32 women in one as many men in the other, there is also a good free school.

Celia Fiennes (Guild Day)
Guild Day, of which Celia Fiennes refers to below. Image: Courtesy of  Norfolk County Council at Picture Norfolk.

There are a great many ceremonies in the choice and swearing in of their mayor: they elect him the first day of May and prepare for his being sworn in on Holy Thursday. They newly wash and plaster their houses within and without which they strike out in squares like free stone. All the street in which is this mayor elect’s house, is very exact in beautifying themselves and hanging up flags of the Councillors’ companies, and dress up pageants and there are players and all sorts of show that day – there is little that is not done at the Lord mayor of London show. Then they have a great feast with fine flags and scenes hung out, music and dancing. I was in the hall where they keep [hold] their feast in and saw some of their preparations for that day; being about a fortnight to it.

The town is a mile and a half from the North to the South gate. Just by one of the Churches there is a wall made of flints that is headed very finely and cut so exactly square and even to shut in one to another that the whole wall is made without cement at all they say, and there appears to be very little, if any, mortar; it looks well, very smooth shining and black. A great many dissenters are in this City. The gentle-woman that was my acquaintance there died 10 days before I came here, so I made no great stay only to see about the town.

Thence I went to Windham [Wymondham], a little market town 5 miles, mostly on a Causey [causeway], the County being low and moorish, and the road on the Causey was in many places full of holes though it is secured by a bar at which passengers pay a penny a horse in order to the mending of the way, for all about is not to be ridden on unless it is a very dry summer. Thence we went mostly through lanes where you meet the ordinary people, knitting 4 or 5 in a company [group] under the hedges. To Attleborough, 5 mile more to a little village, still finding the County full of spinners and knitters: thence to Thetford 6 miles more, which was formerly a large place but now much decayed and the ruins only shows its dimensions. There is a very high hill quite round which stands up on one side of it and can scarcely be ascended so steep. Here I lay, which is still in Norfolk.

Celia Fiennes (Thetford Hill)
Thetford’s Castle Hill © Copyright Colin Park and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

Next day I went to Euston Hall which was the Lord Arlington’s and by his only daughters’ marriage with the Duke of Grafton is his sons by her. Two miles from Thetford it stands in a large park, 6 miles about, the house is a Roman H of brick: 4 towers with balls on them; the windows are low and not sashes Else the rooms are of a good size and height, a good staircase full of good pictures, a long gallery hung with pictures at length, on the one side is the Royal family from King Henry 7th by the Scottish race, his Eldest daughter down to the present King William and his queen Mary. The other side are foreign princes from the Emperor of Morocco, the Northern and Southern princes and Emperor of Germany. There is a square in the middle where stands a billiard table, hung with outlandish pictures of Heroes; there is Count Egmont and Horn at the end of the room is the Duke and Duchess of Grafton’s picture at length.

Celia Fiennes (Euston Hall_Ashley Dace)2
Front Entrance of Euston Hall © Copyright Ashley Dace and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

Then I entered into the dining and drawing rooms and bed chambers of a very good size and good fret work on the ceiling: in one of the rooms was the Duchess of Cleveland’s picture in a sultaness dress, the Duke of Grafton being King Charles’s seconds base son by her. There was also another picture of ye Royal family. King Charles I’s five children altogether. I have often seen 3 which was King Charles II, King James and the Princess of Orange; but here was also the Lady Elizabeth and the Duke of Gloucester, a little Infant on a pillow. In another place there is the Queen Mother’s picture the Lady Henrietta drawn large.

Celia Fiennes (Euston Hall_Ashley Dace)
Rear View of Euston Hall © Copyright Ashley Dace and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

There is a fine hall and parlour below, paved with free stone. There are good gardens with fountains and some stone statutes, a Canal by the side, a large court at the entrance with three Iron bar gates which open to the front, divided with stone pillars and balls. The outside Court is walled round and the wall is carried a great length round to the back yards. Within this is another Court with an iron spiked palisade divided every 2 or 3 yards by little stone pillars with balls. There are several rows of trees running the great length through the park; a visto to the front of the house, which looks nobly though, not just of the new modelled way of building. At the back gate I crossed over the river Waveney which is the division of the two County’s and entered Suffolk and passed over perfect downs; champion country, just like Salisbury Plain; and the winds have a pretty power here and blows strongly in the winter and not well to be endured.

Celia Fiennes5
A page from the diaries, with Celia’s signature.

With Celia’s journey over, have a look at the following BBC4’s little snippet at:

https://youtu.be/f32pAm_7Aik

Sources:
www.visionofbritain.org.uk/travellers/Fiennes
https://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/university-of-nebraska-press/9781496202260/
https://martinevanelk.wordpress.com/2018/06/18/the-intrepid-and-inquiring-celia-fiennes/
Banner Heading Image: Gesina ter Borch, Woman on Horseback in a Landscape (Vrouw te paard in een landschap, 1660). Rijksmuseum, BI-1887-1463-25

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Elizabeth Fry – Prison Reformer 

by Rachel Knowles
(reproduced here by kind permission of the author)

Elizabeth Fry1
Elizabeth Fry from Elizabeth Fry, the angel of the prisons
by LE Richards (1916)

Profile:
Elizabeth Fry (née Gurney) (21 May 1780 – 13 October 1845) was a Quaker minister famous for her pioneering work in prison reform. She was featured on the British £5 note from 2001-2016.

An unhappy childhood:
Elizabeth Gurney was born in Norwich, Norfolk, on 21 May 1780, one of the 12 children of John Gurney and Catherine Bell. Both her parents were from families that belonged to the Religious Society of Friends, more commonly referred to as the Quakers. John Gurney was a wealthy businessman operating in the woollen cloth and banking industries.

Elizabeth, known as Betsy, was moody, often unwell and tormented by numerous fears. She was dubbed stupid by her siblings for being slow to learn, but was most probably dyslexic. In 1792, Betsy was devastated when her mother died.

Conversion:
Betsy’s family were ‘gay’ Quakers as opposed to ‘plain’ Quakers. Though they attended the weekly Quaker meetings, they did not abstain from worldly pleasures like the theatre and dancing or wear simple clothes as ‘plain’ Quakers did.

In 1798, an American Quaker named William Savery visited the Friends’ Meeting House in Goat Lane where the Gurneys worshipped. Betsy had a spiritual experience which was strengthened later that year when she met Deborah Darby, a Quaker minister, who prophesied that Betsy would become “a light to the blind, speech to the dumb and feet to the lame”. (1)

Betsy gradually adopted the ways of a plain Quaker, wearing the simple dress and Quaker cap in which she is depicted on the British £5 note. In 1811, Betsy became a minister for the Religious Society of Friends and started to travel around the country to talk at Quaker meetings.

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Elizabeth Gurney from ‘Elizabeth Fry, the angel of the prisons by LE Richards (1916)

Marriage and family:
On 19 August 1800, Betsy married Joseph Fry, a plain Quaker whose business was tea and banking. They went to live in Mildred’s Court in Poultry, Cheapside, London, which was also the headquarters for Joseph’s business. In 1808, Joseph inherited the family estate at Plashet in East Ham, further out of London.

It was a fruitful marriage though not always a harmonious one. Joseph and Betsy had 11 children: Katherine (1801), Rachel (1803), John (1804), William (1806), Richenda (1808), Joseph (1809), Elizabeth (1811), who died young, Hannah (1812), Louisa (1814), Samuel Gurney (1816) and Daniel Henry (1822).

Betsy’s prison ministry:
Throughout her life, Betsy was active in helping others. At Plashet, she established a school for poor girls, ran a soup kitchen for the poor in cold weather and was the driving force behind the programme for smallpox inoculation in the parish.

In 1813, while living at Mildred’s Court, she visited the women’s wing of nearby Newgate Prison for the first time. Betsy was filled with compassion for the awful state of the women and took flannel clothes with her to dress their naked children.

Elizabeth Fry3
The front of Newgate Prison
from Old and New London Vol II by Walter Thornbury (1872)

Over the next few years, Betsy’s life was absorbed by family issues, but in 1816, she resumed her visits to the women in Newgate Prison. With the support of the female prisoners, she set up the first ever school inside an English prison and appointed a schoolmistress from among the inmates.

Encouraged by her success, Betsy set out to help the women themselves. She read the bible to them and set up a workroom where the women could make stockings. All the female prisoners agreed to abide by Betsy’s rules. Against all odds, the scheme was successful. The women became more manageable and the atmosphere of the prison was transformed.

Elizabeth Fry4
Elizabeth Fry in Newgate Prison from Elizabeth Fry, the angel of the
prisons
by LE Richards (1916)

Fame and influence:
News of Betsy’s success spread and she was inundated with requests for advice from prison authorities and ladies who wanted to set up prison visiting. Over the years that followed, Betsy visited prisons up and down the country, in Scotland, Ireland and on the continent. She became one of the foremost authorities on prison conditions and twice spoke as an expert witness on the subject to Parliamentary Select Committees – in 1818 and again in 1835.

Many of Betsy’s recommendations were included in the Prison Act of 1823 and in 1827 she published Observations on the Visiting, Superintendence and Government of Female Prisoners which became a manual for good management of prisons and prison visiting.

Family problems:
Betsy found it hard to balance family life with her extensive ministry. She was plagued continuously with ill health and oscillated between periods of intense activity and times of nervous exhaustion and depression. She often had to delegate her domestic responsibilities to her husband and other family members whilst she devoted herself to good works. Although Joseph always supported his wife, he sometimes complained that she neglected him.

The Frys were often forced to economise because of financial problems with Joseph’s business. Betsy’s brothers repeatedly came to their rescue, but in 1828, Joseph was declared bankrupt. They had to move permanently to a much smaller house in Upton Lane, Essex, and Joseph was expelled from the Society of Friends in disgrace.

Other areas of ministry:
As well as her prison work, Betsy was able to improve the lot of women being transported to Australia for their crimes, providing them with a bundle of belongings to help each woman make a fresh start after their long voyage.

She instigated a project to provide libraries of books for the coastguards whose chief role of preventing smuggling made them isolated and unpopular. This was so successful that the government took over the project and extended it to the navy. Betsy also set up the first nursing academy, to train nurses who could go into private homes and provide care for those who could not normally afford it.

A fitting end:
Betsy died on 13 October 1845 whilst on a holiday in Ramsgate. Her funeral was held at the Friends’ Meeting House in Barking on 20 October. The funeral procession from her house to Barking was over half a mile long. Even more mourners waited in Barking to celebrate the life of this remarkable woman.

In 1914, a marble statue of Elizabeth Fry was erected inside the Old Bailey in London, on the site of the Newgate Prison where her prison ministry had begun.

THE END

Notes:
(1) From the journal of Elizabeth Fry, 4 September 1798, as recorded in Life of Elizabeth Fry: compiled from her journal, as edited by her daughters, and from various other sources by Susanna Corder (1853).
(2) Corder, De Haan, Hatton and Isba all record Elizabeth Fry’s death as the 13 October 1845, but some sources state the 12th.

Sources used include:
Corder, Susanna, Life of Elizabeth Fry: compiled from her journal, as edited by her daughters, and from various other sources (1853)
De Haan, Franciscas, Fry (née Gurney) Elizabeth (1780-1845), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford University Press, 2004; online edn May 2007, accessed 24 Aug 2015)
Hatton, Jean, Betsy – the dramatic biography of prison reformer Elizabeth Fry (2005)
Isba, Anne, The Excellent Mrs Fry – unlikely heroine (2010)

Banner Heading Photo: NEN Gallery.

*This article (originally published Here) has been reproduced
by kind permission of the author.

 

 

A Tram Journey of Delight!

 The Norwich Museum Service has, somewhere in its store, a small section of a Norwich tram-line which was salvaged at a point when the city’s tram system was being torn up and replaced by buses. To see such relics may be tempting to write a history of the trams that once ran on such lines, but this approach has already been more than adequately covered by other authors. Maybe, and this again would surely not be a first, we could simply take a step back in time and imagine a journey in one of the old Norwich trams along one of the city’s seven routes.

Norwich Journey1
Two Tram lines from the old tram network in Norwich. Phto: Norwich Museum Service.

But first, a little background detail would help whilst we decide on which route to take:

Robert_cecil
Robert Gascoyne-Cecil
  • The year was 1900, the 3rd Marquess of Salisbury, Robert Gascoyne-Cecil was Prime Minister, Queen Victoria was just about still on the throne.
  • Norwich’s tram network opened on the 30th July 1900 and was operated by Norwich Electric Tramways Company. Its network was extensive, covering seven routes and stretching as far as Mousehold Heath to the North, Trowse to the South, Earlham Road Cemetery to the West, but then only as far as the Norwich Railway Station to the East.
  • After 35 years of operation, the tram network closed on the 10th December 1935 and was purchased by the Eastern Omnibus Company, who bought the network simply to clear the way for its new bus service.
Norwich Tramway (Map - Plunkett)
The Norwich Tramway network as drawn by George Plunkett of Norwich.

So, let us imagine that we alight at Norwich Railway Station, at Thorpe Road in the east of the city, and intend to journey to a relative, or two, who live almost at the far end of the Dereham Road, by Merton Road and not far from Waterworks Road.

TRD (Thorpe Station circa1890)
Norwich Railway Station, circa 1890. Photo: Public Domain.

The first road of any significance that we travel is along Prince of Wales Road, an impressive road that was built as a direct link between passengers alighting from the railway station and the city.

Bank Plain5
Prince of Wales Road circa 1900 with the cart heading towards the city centre. In the far distance, on the left by the trees will soon be built the Railway Mission, to the design of Edward Boardman. Photo: Archant Library.
Bank Plain6
The little Railway Mission Chapel with its Art Nouveau frontage, designed by Edward Boardman, and built between 1901 and 1903 specifically to connect the railway station with the heart of the city. Photo: Simon Knott/Norfolk Churches.

We pass more than a few impressive buildings, including the new the Royal Hotel, only three years old in 1900 and also designed by Edward Boardman. Opposite is Hardwick House, built of Bath Stone some 34 years earlier than the tramway system and is of a grand neo-classical stone structure which presides over Agricultural Hall Plain. It competes with the Royal Hotel for looks because it is considered one of the city’s most architecturally elaborate buildings – said to resemble a tiered wedding cake. Designed in 1865 by the London architect, Philip Charles Hardwick (in partnership with his father), it had opened in January 1866 as a new premise for the Harvey and Hudson Bank and continued to be known as the Norwich Crown Bank

Four photos showing, left to right, the Royal Hotel, Hardwich House,
Agriculural Hall and Barclays Bank. Photos: All by George Plunkett.

 

Agriculural Plain
The Royal Hotel (on the left) in 1905. It closed its doors as a hotel in the 1970’s. Hardwick House and the Agricultural Hall on the right. Photo: Public Domain.
Bank Plain2
A rare postcard of the Roller-Skating Rink inside Agricultural Hall, circa 1905. Admission  was 6d and another 6d for the use of the skates. Photo: Philip Standley Collection.

At this point we swing right into Bank Plain and on via Redwell Street to St Andrew Street, passing St Andrews Hall on the right, and Suckling House on the left, which in 1900 was separated into several private residences that were in a state of disrepair.

St Andrew’s Hall (left) and Suckling House (right).

As our tram travels towards and along Charing Cross we pass Strangers Hall, beautifully preserved building that dates back to 1320 and was once the home to wealthy merchants and mayors when Norwich was in its heyday, but now a museum of local history since the 1930s. Though this building is a product of the Tudor period and dates back to around 1320, it may have been built for a merchant named Ralph de Middleton. Around 1450. William Barley rebuilt it, turning the structure on its axis to run parallel to the street, as it is seen. In 1530 the Lord Mayor of Norwich, Nicholas Sotherton, added a front door with the lovely carved porch and steps. Apart from that, the essential layout has hardly changed since the 17th century.

The name ‘Strangers’ was not given to the Hall until the 19th century, when the house was a residence for Catholic priests. By 1896 the priests had left, and Strangers Hall became derelict. A local developer planned to pull it down and develop the site but, fortunately, a Leonard Bolingbroke, solicitor and member of the Norfolk Archaeological Society, stepped in and purchased it. He filled the building with his own collection of antiques, and opened it to the public as a folk museum in 1900 – the very year when we passed by in a tramcar! At a time when most public museum were filled with rather dry displays of fossils and stuffed animals; the Strangers Hall museum was unusual; it featured objects from everyday life. Bolingbroke presented the Hall to the City of Norwich in 1922.

Stranger's Hall
Strangers Hall, today. Photo: Norwich Museum Service.

Many building were demolished or altered to make way for the new tram system. Norwich’s narrow, winding medieval streets were simply unsuitable for a mass transit system like a tram network. This is aptly demonstrated by the next stretch of our tram journey which takes us from Charring Cross on to St Benedict’s Street. The image below shows the approach to St Benedict’s Street just before the construction of the tram network.

Norwich Journey4
The building in this image is the pub ‘The Three Pigeons’, demolished to make way for the tram network, this pub was re-built across the street and became the Hog In Armour – which in turn became the Mash Tun.

The junction on which ‘The Three Pigeons’ public house stood was also where the 15th century mansion, belonging to the Quaker John Gurney, stood. The story goes that from the 7 September 1687 when John married Elizabeth Swanton, the couple lived there, and where a steep cobbled street ran down to his quay between St Miles bridge and Duke’s Palace bridge on the River Wensum.

John Gurney’s mansion was large and solid, commanding an important position at Charing, or Shearing Cross as it was also called – marking the ‘Plain’ where the main sheep-shearing had taken place for centuries. Such open spaces and town squares are still known in Norwich as ‘plains’ – (other examples passed through on this tram ride were Bank Plain and Agricultural Plain). A sketch is said to exist of the ‘Sign of the Three Pigeons’ in which the Gurneys lived, showing the large 15th century mansion standing in the fork of St Benedict Steet and West Wick Street. In John’s day these were called Over and Nether Westwyke. It was there where John’s wife, Elizabeth:

‘planted fruit trees in her garden and, living in the heart of the weaving industry, bought wool and flax, and handled distaff and spindles, though she could never have dressed her household in scarlett, and herself in purple, for quiet shades and pale colours were favoured by the Friends’.

Norwich Journey5
This image shows the same view just a few years later. The difference is stark, the whole area has been opened to the elements; the old, dark, narrow, cramped streets gone and the area is one of open space, light – and of course, trams.

The image above shows our tram about to head down St Benedicts Street, we will pass the Vine Tavern on the left hand side. Were we to look towards our right we would see the site of Bullards, brewer of much of Norwich’s beer. Here, some of our fellow passengers would likely to have vacated the tram on their way to work at the brewery.

Bullards Brewery
Bullard’s Brewery, leading down from Charing Cross and the beginning of St Benedict’s Street. Photo: George Plunkett.

St Benedict’s Street now houses a mix of alternative shops, restaurants, venues and pubs. In 1900 it was rather more conventional, but still housed a vast array of business’s. Keep in mind that St Benedicts Street is just 500m long, but consider this – we will pass a total of 14 pubs, 6 butchers and 3 tobacconists.

Ten_Bells_July_2011
The Ten Bells public house on St Benedicts. It is thought that its name refers to the belief that at one time, a person could stand on this stretch of the street and clearly hear the bells of ten different churches. Photo: (unknown)

As we travel these short 500 meters we would notice Frank Kirby’s bicycle shop at number 5 St Benedict’s Street, Brett’s furniture shop at number 12, and at Number 19, Cooke’s, a musical instrument seller. At number 56 will be Hugh Manes umbrella repair shop, at 63 the chemist and druggist, Edward Making. Then at number 98, William Burtles coffee rooms – 14 pubs and only 1 coffee shop. How things have changed!

Reads Fruiters
Number 92, St Benedicts – H. Read English & Foreign Fruiterers. Photo: Norwich Museum Service.

As we neared the end of St Benedict’s Street we will see St Benedict’s Church, a thriving local Church, and also the remains of St Benedict’s Gate. Unfortunately, these were totally destroyed in World War Two, during the Baedeker raids of April 1942.

St Benedict's Gate 1934
St Benedict’s Gate site, south side view in 1934.
In the raid of April 1942, all the wall shown in the photograph was blown down, but the gatehouse abutment still stood, albeit considerably cracked and out of true, on the very edge of a large bomb crater. Because of its condition it was later entirely cleared away, and so the last remnant of the gates belonging to the city’s fortifications was destroyed as a result of enemy action. Photo: George Plunkett.

The Kelly’s Norfolk guide of 1900 lists the shops, pubs and other businesses which were operating on St Benedict’s Street during that time. This list would make interesting reading for those who research such things:

1 – Mapperley colliery company. 2 – Vine Taven (PH), 3 – Joseph Crossfield & Sons soap manufacturers, 4 – Alexandra (PH), 4 – Joshua Webster – Book retailer, 5 – Frank Kirby – Bicycle dealer, 6 – George Ashfield – Baker, 7 – Herbert Mutimer – Dairyman, 8 – Arthur Sulivan – Wholesale confectioner, 9 – Lewis & Emmanuel Ecker – Outfitter, 10 – Walter Cox – Provision dealer, 11 – Frederick Fitt – Corn merchant, 12 – John Brett – House furnisher (Jonathan Brett and sons), 13 – Albert Golding – House furnisher, 14 – George William & Sons – Curriers, Lord Howe yard and shoe warehouse, 15 – John Brett – House furnisher, 16 – Home & Colonial Store Ltd, 17 – Issac Leverton – Picture frame maker, 18 – John Yallop – Greengrocers, 19 – Arthur William Cooke – Musical instrument seller, 20 – Charles Hansell – Fish & Chip Shop St Lawrence Church, 21 – W Moore – Draper, 22 – Mary Ann Mitchell – Greengrocers, 23 – W Moore – Draper, 24 – Arthur Loker – Hairdresser, 25 – Arthur Gardinier – Tobacconist, 26 – George Cooper – Dining rooms, 27 – Robert Boast – Working jeweller, 28 – Christopher Martins – Butcher, 29 – Alice Sussams – Greengrocers, 30 – Stead & Simpson Limited – Boot and shoe warehouse, 31 – Joshua Calver – Baker, 32 – Frederick Newby – Butcher, 33 – Thomas Cooper – Pork butcher, 34 – Prince of Wales (PH), 35 – Susannah Borking – Shopkeeper, St Margaret’s Church, 36 – Saunders shoe manufacturers, 37 – W Moore – Draper, 38 – George Loynes – Greengrocers, 39 – James Tate – Confectioner, 40 – Charles Barnett – Draper and house furnisher, 41 – Charles Lindsey – Pork butcher, 43 – George Kidd – Tobacconist, 45 – Henry Coldham – Pork butchers, 46 – Three Kings (PH), 47 – Frederick Wiley, Greengrocers, 48 – Benjamin Olley – Tinplate worker, 49 – Daniel Drake – Mineral water manufacturer, 49 – Queen of Hungary (PH), 50 – Annie Holland – Fishmonger, 51 – Albert Farrow – Greengrocers, 52-54 – Walter Mace – Boot and shoe manufacturer, 53 – Maria Powell – Hairdresser St Swithins Church (Closed), 55 – Curl Bros – Drapers, 56 – Hugh Manes – Umbrella repair, 57 – William Smith – Ironmonger, 58 – Plough (PH), 59 – William Adams – Butchers, 60 – Alfred Ketteringham – Greengrocers, 61 – Danish Dairy Co, 62 – William Robert Rose – Newsagents, 63 – Edward Making – Chemist and druggist
64 – Margaret White – Fishmongers, 65 – Stag (PH), 66 – Eliza Bird – Fruiterer, 67 – Beehive (PH), 68 – W Hinds – Rope and twine manufacturers, 69 – Colman & co ltd – Wine merchants, 70 – Henry Sutherland – Newsagents, 71 – The Crown (PH), 72 – George Douglas – Grindery dealer, 73 – G Gamble – Pawnbroker and clothier, 74 – George Blower – Marine store dealer, 75 – Wallace King – Ironmonger, 76 – Thomas Gooch – Tobacconist
77 – Barclays Bank, 78 – Ten Bells (PH), 79 – Walter Nickalls – Fishmongers, 81 – James Cowling – Butcher, 80-82 – Scott & Cousins – Boot & Shoe Factory, 83 – William Bilby – Hairdressers, 84 – George Lawrence – Basket maker, 85 – Robert Baldwin – Newsagents, 86 – Cardinals Cap (PH), 87 – Valentine Luscombe Narracott – Baker, 88 – Leach & Tooley – Decorating supplies, 89 – Fountain (PH), 90 – Walter Browne – Lithographer, 91 – Harcourts (PH), 92 – H. Read English & Foreign Fruiterers, 94 – St Benedicts Church, 96 – Arthur Lemmon – Baker, 98 – William Burtle Coffee Rooms, 100 – Scott & Cousins – Boot & Shoe Factory, 102 – Thomas Dunmore – corn and flour merchant, 104 – James Fletcher – confectioner, 106 – White Lion (PH), 108 – John Palmer – Saddler, 110 – Charles Pimm – Greengrocers, and 114 – Edgar Banger – Photographer. Whew!

From this point, the tram will enter Dereham Road and the biggest difference we will see, between the period of our imagined journey and the present day, is the lack of cars. In 1900 fewer than 1% of the population has access to a motor car. Those not traveling by tram or by horse would likely be walking, the pavements were busier places in 1900!

Dereham Road (1908)
Derham Road in 1908. Photo: Public Domain.
Dereham Road
The view back towards the city as our tram approaches the end of our journey. Photo: Public Domain

Our journey reaches its end about half a mile along Dereham Road, just before Merton Road. With the journey over, you now have a short walk to the home of your relatives. Amaze them with the copy of a similar tram journey – to be made in Norwich, two year hence, in 1902. Just think – you can show them this film on your laptop, by just clicking on the following link as supplied by the:- East Anglian Film Archive !

THE END

Inspirational Sources:
https://shinealightproject.wordpress.com/2015/10/22/a-journey-from-the-royal-hotel-to-dereham-road/
https://www.britainexpress.com/counties/norfolk/norwich/strangers-hall.htm
http://www.norwich-pubs-breweries.co.uk/norwich_pubs_today/norwich_pubs_today.shtm#
https://www.tramwayinfo.com/Tramframe.htm?

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The Disfunctional Thurtell’s!

On Sunday, October 21, 2018, Seann McAnally posted on his blog site, seann-mcanally.blogspot.com, the following:

“Goodnight Blog: I haven’t posted here in a very long time. I’d say the life of this blog (as in, my desire to attend to it) has run its course. A fresh start is in order. Eventually, I’m going to pull this down and archive the interesting bits somewhere. This gave me joy when it needed to. For that I’m glad. But I don’t need it anymore. Thank you.”

This is a pity, for without knowing where ‘the interesting bits’ will go, much may well be lost – despite good intentions. The following blog of Seann’s is a case in point and, because it has a connection with Norfolk, it has been rescued before it is too late and the body text re-published here. Full credit remains with Seann McAnally and is confirmed in this Blog.

Seann’s own blog is the first contribution below, followed by further information on the principal named ‘Thurtells’ who played such a part in the defunctional nature of this 19th century family and the problems that this ‘defunctionality’ – [extinct] brought about.

1. History’s Jackass: John Thurtell.

John Thurtell (rhymes with “turtle”) was known to his friends and family as “Jack.” That’s appropriate, as few Jackasses of History approach the level of jackassery John Thurtell achieved in his short, tragic life. About the only thing he did right was die without (much) drama. He was a confidence man and a murderer. If you’re going to be one of those, make sure you’re good at it, or, like Thurtell, you’ll end up at the end of a rope.

john thurtell 1
“Now where did I hide that gun?”. Photo: Public Domain.

Thurtell was born on 21 December 1794 into a wealthy family in the English town of Norwich. His father, Thomas Thurtell, was a prominent merchant and city councellor who also served as mayor of Norwich in 1828. Thurtell shared his father’s ambition, but lacked his skill. Rather than apply himself to his studies, he was mad for competitive sports, mainly horse racing and prize-fighting (boxing). After one too many tussles, his father decided a career in the navy would do young Thurtell good, so at age 15, with a freshly purchased commission, he joined Company 99 of the Royal Navy and set out on the HMS Adamant – which promptly sailed to The Firth of Forth in Scotland, and docked for a few years. Other than raising hell in local taverns and insulting the Scots, it appears Thurtell and his crew mates spent their time doing pretty much nothing. When the fleet got a new commander, Thurtell was disciplined and discharged by Rear Admiral William Otway for some misconduct. We don’t know what he did, but they didn’t kick you out of the Royal Navy on a whim. Record-keeping slip-ups ensured Thurtell found another berth on the HMS Bellona, despite not technically being in the Navy. The only action the HMS Bellona saw during Thurtell’s service was a convoy trip to St. Helena and back.

john thurtell (hms bellona)1
HMS Bellona

Of course, when Thurtell proudly returned home in 1814, he told his friends and family about his gallant action as he stormed the port of San Sebastian on the north coast of Spain. Naval records prove that his stories of action on the Bellona were baloney. It was docked at the Isle of Wight during the battle, and merely cruised past San Sebastian several days after hostilities had died down. He also told a story of how the Bellona captured a brig of war. It was, in fact, an unarmed merchant schooner that surrendered without a fight. Nevertheless, folks around Norwich were impressed with the tales of derring-do that surrounded the popular mayor’s son.

Thurtell’s father arranged for local merchants to extend credit to his son to set up business with his friend Giddens as manufacturers of bombazine, a fancy twilled silk dress fabric that was popular at the time. However, Thurtell soon turned back to his old obsession with prize-fighting. He made friends with a boxer from London who’d moved to Norwich to seek easier pickings. His tales encouraged Thurtell to make regular visits to London, where he frequented disreputable taverns and gambling houses devoted to betting on horse races, prize fights, and other sporting events. At this time, Thurtell impressed his contemporaries, one of whom described him as “a man of integrity.”

Thurtell’s jackassery was soon exposed, however. While Giddens plugged away managing the bombazine business, Thurtell was often absent from Norwich, and was chronically short of funds. The partners soon became delinquent in payments to their creditors, to the embarrassment of Thurtell’s father. When a London mercantile firm purchased several thousand pounds(£), a huge sum at the time, worth of silk, the gallant Thurtell offered to travel to London (alone) to collect the payment. Lo and behold!, he returned without the money, saying he’d been ambushed and robbed by footpads. He helpfully displayed some bruises and a small cut on his head as evidence. His creditors, however, were quite vocal about not believing him. His father’s influence ensured Thurtell was not charged with a crime, but his reputation in Norwich plummeted, as did that of the over-trusting and innocent Giddens. Their partnership went bankrupt in 1821 – see *Footnote below.

It was a bad year for the Thurtell family – his brother Thomas had attempted the simple life of a gentleman farmer, but found it not so simple. Owing £4000 in debt, he soon followed his big brother into bankruptcy (though he owed half of that to his father, so his credit was better than Thurtell’s). He blamed his failure on excessive taxation and sub-standard seeds.

The two brothers fled to London, their bankruptcy cases still not discharged by the court in Norwich. The two launched various schemes and enterprises, usually under Tom’s name but with Thurtell as the mastermind (if you can call it that) and active agent. Jack came up with a plan to get both he and Tom out of trouble by exploiting the Act of Relief for Insolvent Debtors, recently passed by Parliament. Thurtell believed there was a loophole. Tom was, of course, the Guinea pig. Thurtell lent his brother 17 pounds, and, as arranged, Tom defaulted on the loan. Thurtell then had Tom thrown into King’s Bench prison for debt. They banked on this expediting Tom’s original bankruptcy case and having it forgiven. This was a staggering mistake, as Thurtell missed some of the finer points of the Act. He let Tom languish in prison for 14 long months before finally withdrawing the complaint. Tom appears to have left London immediately after being released, but this didn’t stop Thurtell from continuing to do business under his brother’s name.

Thurtell took out a lease on a tavern called, appropriately, The Cock (in Tom’s name). He immediately sold off the contents of the basement (which did not belong to him). He also purchased a warehouse in both he and Tom’s name. Using proceeds from the sale of the stuff in the basement, Thurtell made a down payment to finance hundreds of pounds (£) of bombazine. He stored it in the warehouse and took out an insurance policy on it all for some £2000. He spent a few more pounds making alterations to the warehouse so that no one could see inside. Then, under cover of darkness, he transferred the silk to another location and sold it for cash, making a huge immediate profit (since he’d mostly paid with credit). Then, surprise! The warehouse mysteriously burned down – Thurtell’s remodeling job ensured the night watch didn’t see the fire until it was too late.

But the local constable was suspicious. There were no tell-tale remains of silk in the warehouse, and the remodeling obviously served no purpose other than to hide the interior. The county fire office refused to pay the insurance claim. Thurtell, in Tom’s name, sued the office and won, but the director of the fire office still refused to pay the claim, and in fact used his contacts to procure an indictment against Thurtell and the hapless Tom for conspiracy to defraud the insurance company. This would eventually come back to bite Tom, although Thurtell, as we’ll see, managed to avoid conviction by dying first.

Most of his money slipped through his fingers in the gambling dens. Thurtell fled The Cock and the mountain of unpaid bills he’d racked up running it and went into hiding under an assumed name at another tavern. During this time, his friend Joseph Hunt wrote that Thurtell “suffered from an observable disintegration of his personality.” He spent much time drinking and brooding on his ill-fortune, and writing lists of grievances against all those he’d imagined had wronged him. Chief among them was William Weare, a notorious but non-violent underworld figure who seems to have started as a waiter, then moved to professional gambling. Thurtell had, in his depression, lost £300 to Weare, and it rankled to the point of obsession. He refused to pay, and spread rumours that Weare had only won by cheating. He said because of Weare, it he’d become a laughing-stock.

john thurtell (three accomplinces)2
Taken from the book ‘Account of the Murder of the Late Mr William Weare – publishers J Nichols & Sons 1824. Photo: via Hordern House.

In October 1823, Thurtell decided on a way to avoid paying Weare the £300 he owed him. Feigning reconciliation and vowing to clear the debt, Thurtell invited Weare for a weekend in the country at the cottage of a friend, Bill Probert. However, Thurtell had enlisted Probert and another crony, Joseph Hunt, to murder Weare (how, we’ll never know, but the two were also debt-ridden ne’er-do-wells – think of them as assistant jackasses). The plan was that Thurtell would hire a gig (a gentleman’s carriage) and drive to the village of Radlett. Probert and Hunt were to follow along, catch up, and then the three would kill Weare. But the assistants got cold feet, and delayed for hours debating whether they should go through with it.

Eventually they decided to go along, but by the time they caught up with Thurtell, he’d already killed Weare – and made a real mess of it, too. Once dusk fell, Thurtell turned into a dark lane near Probert’s cottage, produced a pistol from a matched set, and shot Weare in the face. This failed to kill him. The poor bastard managed to escape from the carriage, but did not get far stumbling into the darkness. Thurtell chased him and caught Weare when he tripped over a root. Thurtell drew a knife and slit Weare’s throat from ear to ear, then, for some reason, bashed Weare in the head repeatedly with his pistol, until Weare’s brains were dashed all over the ground. Thurtell hid the pistol and the knife in a nearby hedge. Then, when Probert and Hunt arrived, they helped him throw the body into a pond on Probert’s property – after searching it and looting it, of course. The trio then went to Probert’s cottage, where Thurtell presented Mrs. Probert with a gold chain he’d taken off Weare’s corpse. They all stayed up late into the night singing over rounds of grog.

The next day, Thurtell went to retrieve the murder weapons – but he couldn’t find them. Nervous, the men waited for dark, fished Weare’s body out of the pond, and dumped it in another pond by the road to the village of Elstree. Meanwhile, a road maintenance crew found the pistol and knife, and saw the brains and blood, and notified authorities. It wasn’t long before they showed up looking for Thurtell – whether they were skilled investigators or not is moot. Thurtell, jackass that he was, made it easy for them. All of Weare’s friends knew he’d planned to spend the weekend with Thurtell. When he didn’t show up at his regular haunts the following Monday, they reported it. The horse Thurtell had hired to pull the gig had rare and distinctive coloration – all gray, with a white face. Several witnesses on the road remembered seeing it, and Thurtell and Weare, riding along on the day of the murder. When the authorities questioned Thurtell, they found the other pistol from the matched set, which was, of course, identical to one of the murder weapons.

At this, Probert and Hunt immediately turned King’s Evidence against Thurtell and told everything. All charges were dropped against Probert, but Hunt, who initially lied to investigators about helping to hide the body, was banished to Australia (where, settling in Botany Bay, he married, had two children, and became a pillar of the community). Thurtell proclaimed his innocence throughout his arrest, confinement, and trial. He attempted to delay the trial by calling witnesses who he knew to be absent from London. This tactic didn’t work. He was convicted of Weare’s murder and hanged on 9 January 1824. Meanwhile, Hunt sold his story to the newspapers, and the lurid details of the crime ensured a major media circus at the execution. Oddly, Thurtell seems to have died well, without any blubbering or begging. On the scaffold, he admitted to the murder, said justice had been done, and then, in a classic jackass move, instead of asking for forgiveness, announced in a loud, steady voice: “I forgive the world!” His body was dissected and studied (common with criminals at the time) and today his skeleton is still on display at the Anatomical Museum of Edinburgh University.

Later that year, his brother Tom was convicted in the warehouse insurance fraud scheme, even though his only crime was to let Thurtell write his name on the paperwork. He, too, was hanged.

Thurtell became something of a celebrity after his death as the subject of penny dreadfuls and cautionary tales about the dangers of young gentlemen coming to London and getting involved in the vice of underworld gambling. But it seems clear that Thurtell’s jackassery began long before his gambling days, and we must conclude that he is, indeed, one of the true Jackasses of History.

  • This Footnote to Seann’s story (above) comes from Meeres, F., ‘A History of Norwich, Phillimore, 1998: “On the 22nd January 1821, John Thurtell advertised that he had been in Chapel Field, Norwich at 9pm when three men had knocked him down and robbed him of £1,508. The cash was in his pocket-book “In notes, 13 of which were of the Bank of England, value £100 each and the name “John Thurtell” is endorsed on them”. A reward of £100 was offered to whoever might give information “which may lead to the apprehension and conviction of the persons concerned in this robbery”. It sounded an incredible sum of money to be carrying and before long it was discovered to be a scam. Thurtell’s bombazine firm had been declared bankrupt and he was hoping to enjoy a public subscription.”

2. Others Of The Thurtell Family.

The following is based on the reseach done by Susan T. Miller, plus information received by her from the Norwich Public Library on the records of the Thurtell family. According to her research, Thomas Thurtell (father and later Mayor of Norwich) was born to John and Anne Thurtell (below) in 1765, baptised on July 21, 1765, at St. Julians Church, Norwich, and died April 8, 1846, aged 81. He married, in Blundeston, Suffolk, on September 25, 1787 to Susannah Browne, who was born in 1764 and died in 1848.

Purely as an aside – Susannah’s sister, Anne Browne, married Thomas’ brother, John Thurtell and Anne’s brother, Robert Browne, married Thomas’s sister, Sarah Thurtell, in a triple wedding ceremony at the Church of St. Mary in Blundeston, Suffolk in 1787.

Thomas Thurtell (our notorious killer’s father), Susannah his wife, and a daughter are buried in the new church at Lakenham with two of their other children buried in the churchyard of Lakenham Old Church. Thomas’s residence was Harford Hall farm, Ipswich Road by Harford Bridge in Lakenham Parish. We are told that he farmed this property under Southwell, landlord, and died there. However, property records for the farm apparently show that Thomas, described as ‘Esquire’, only occupied it as leassee between 1811 and 1819, so perhaps the rest of the time there was some other arrangement?

According to the family’s researchers, the convicted killer John Thurtell’s father, Thomas Thurtell, was an extremely tempetuous, violent, and unforgiving character. His treatment of his family was often tyrannical, and it was felt that much of the son’s criminal behaviour was his responsibility. However, he refused to pay the lawyer’s expenses in connection with John’s trial for murder; he also deprived another son of his promised marriage settlement and legacy. Thomas Thurtell’s mayoralty was said to be ‘extremely tempestuous and his critics vocal’. Nevertheless, he was a “highly respected and opulent merchant of Norwich” and three times Mayor of Norwich. He was also a prominent member of the Whig party in Norwich and became a member of the Common Council in 1812, Alderman in 1815, Sheriff in 1815, and Mayor in 1828 (elected by the Court of Aldermen after two inconclusive popular votes). He was again Mayor in 1829 when the Old Fye Bridge was built – as indicated on a brass tablet which was uncovered in 1932 when the bridge was widened.

It must be noteworthy that Thomas Thurtell was chosen as Mayor even after the trial and execution of his son John Thurtell on 9 January 1824, whom his father disowned. Thomas senior had done his best to set his two sons, Thomas and John, up in business in 1814 and, with his help, the two boys purchased and manufactured silks and bombasin for him. Later they became involved in something underhanded that Thomas senior knew nothing about. Nevertheless, he appears to have survived this and other scandals, related to his sons, with an undiminished reputation; and the dreadful legal troubles of his sons must have caused much grief. However, in the obituary on his death it is stated that he was universally esteemed as an honest and upright man.

THE END

Sources:
http://seann-mcanally.blogspot.com/2015/03/jackasses-of-history-john-thurtell.html
http://www.thurtellfamily.net/geotf/gp/nti00035.html
http://www.thurtellfamily.net/geofvm/uk/johnandannebrownethurtell.html
https://www.capitalpunishmentuk.org/thurtell.html
http://www.murderpedia.org/male.T/t/thurtell-john.htm
Photos:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radlett_murder
https://www.hordern.com/pages/books/3812957/transportation-george-henry-jones/account-of-the-murder-of-the-late-mr-william-weare-of-lyons-inn-and-portraits-of-the-prisoners-john
Feature Heading (Credit.Robert-Cruikshank) : https://www.onlinecasinoground.nl/gokhuizen-rond-1800-in-londen-en-een-moord/

NOTICE: ‘Norfolk Tales, Myths & More!’ is a ‘non-commercial’ and ‘non-profit making Site which publishes items of ‘general interest’ only. It endeavours, where required, to obtain permission to use other copyright owner’s material; however, for various reasons, identification of, and means of communicating with, owners can sometimes be difficult or impossible to establish. Nevertheless, please rest assured that the appropriate ‘credits’ are always given in our articles, and no violation of any copyright or trademark material is ever intentional.

 

Campanology: As per St Peter Mancroft!

On the 26 June 2015 Emily Sarah of the Norfolk Record Office wrote that the final of the National Twelve Bell Striking Contest would take place at St Peter Mancroft Church on the following day, when 10 of the best teams of ringers from across the country, plus several hundred visiting ringers visited the city.

The Norfolk Record Office holds the records for no fewer than four ringers’ societies, all based at St Peter Mancroft’s, the earliest of which was the  Norwich Ringers’ Purse founded in 1716.  Members paid weekly contributions and, in return, received financial support when they fell sick.  The purse also supported families of deceased ringers.

The most recent ringers’ society is the Guild of Ringers, which was founded in 1907, after a bitter dispute between the vicar and churchwardens on the one hand and the ringers on the other.  At one point, the belfry was closed, the vicar got rid of all the old ringers and a new band was formed. Even then, prospective new ringers had to demonstrate that they could ring three distinct methods on twelve bells before they were admitted.  Ringing a method means pulling your rope so that your bell follows all the other bells in the tower in turn, with a constantly changing pattern and at different speeds, all done by memory.

The most common method is Plain Bob Doubles, rung on five bells, usually with a sixth bell, called the tenor behind, always in the final place to keep a good sense of rhythm.  Ringing the same method on eleven bells would be called Plain Bob Cinques. On twelve bells, it would be Plain Bob Maximus.

Mancroft Bell 1
Postcard of St Peter Mancroft Sanctus Bell, c 1920, and Tenor Bell, c 1924. Norfolk Record Office.

Ringing on 11 or 12 bells is very difficult, demanding years of practice and intense concentration so that the bells all sound absolutely in time.  If anyone makes a mistake, the bells will clash and the resulting cacophony would be heard all over Norwich. It is said that the best ringers can ring to a precision of 3/100ths of a second.

Over the years, St Peter’s has acquired a total of 14 bells (though it is normally regarded as a ring of 12) plus a Sanctus bell, which is rung during the communion service.  The largest number of bells in one tower in England is 16, at Birmingham St Martin.

The first true peal, lasting three hours and eighteen minutes on Plain Bob Triples (seven bells), was rung at St Peter’s on 2 May 1715.  A peal is often rung to celebrate a special occasion, such as a birthday.

The Norfolk Record Office holds a short article on campanology from the Mancroft Review of 1971.  This is mainly an appeal for more ringers to join the regular band, but it also describes the learning process:

‘Beginners are not taught at Mancroft, but on the six [bells] at St George, Colegate. There the bells are not so heavy and the ropes are just 40 feet long, compared to Mancroft’s 70 feet.  But beware … campanology is a disease!  Once you learn, you will get hooked.’

THE END

Sources:
https://norfolkrecordofficeblog.org/2015/06/26/campanology-once-you-learn-you-will-get-hooked/
Photo: (Feature Heading of St Peter Mancroft) © Copyright John Salmon and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.
Photo (Bells) Norfolk Record Office.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE2

The Legend of Erpingham’s Gate!

It is a fact that many folk in the distant past could neith read nor write; couple this with the fact that folklore stories have long drifted in and out of print, meaning that each generation relied on the tongue for telling tales which it was hoped would be remembered and passed on, from generation to generation. As part of this process, and to maintain the interest of liseners, these stories were often elaborated and embellished; an essential part of the spoken tradition which wanted to perpetuate whatever lay behind each tale. The following story is just one example where the detail has been given just that treatment over time, appearing in print in as many and varied versions as would the same tale told verbally – so maybe past chronicle authors and story-telling bards have a lot to answer for! But we have to go with what we have, so the question is ‘How much of a story is fact and how much is fiction’, remembering that all legends have a degree of truth in them; but one thing is certain – we will never know. The only thing the reader can do is to pick through content and decide where a degree of licence may have been applied and where facts possibly rest.

Erpingham (Outer Gate)
This Grade 1 listed gateway is one of two leading from Tombland into the Cathedral Close and dates from 1420 (restored in the 19th and 20th centuries). The central arch consists of three orders of mouldings with two bands of figures and is the work of Norfolk stonemason Thomas Hindley. The gate was erected for Sir Thomas Erpingham, the leader of the archers at the Battle of Agincourt (25 October 1415) and a benefactor of the Cathedral. Photo: © Copyright Evelyn Simak and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

This story is about the beginnings of Erpingham Gate, a great Norwich gateway which takes the visitor from Tombland into the Cathedral Close and directly towards the main entrance to Norwich Cathedral. More importantly, it is about the person who, it was said, paid for its construction, Sir Thomas Erpingham – and about whom a legend, myth – whatever you might call it – found root around the time of 1422 when Gate was built. But first, some facts:

Sir Thomas Erpingham was born in 1357 in the Norfolk village of Erpingham, some 17 miles north of Norwich. His family had been in the village since the Norman Conquest and were part of the local gentry who came to be the holders of the manor in the early thirteenth century, taking the place name of Erpingham as their surname. After the death of his father, Sir Thomas went into the service of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and fought alongside Gaunt’s son (Henry Bolingbroke) across Europe and the Middle East. Bolingbroke later became King Henry IV and Sir Thomas was made his chamberlain. In 1400 Sir Thomas became a Knight of the Garter and received many estates in Norfolk and Suffolk. He used his position at court to promote the interests of Norwich and in 1404, the king gave Norwich its new charter, making it the County and City of Norwich. Sir Thomas was a generous patron and one of his legacies can still be seen most clearly in his entrance gate to Norwich Cathedral.

Erpingham (Archers)
Henry V’s archers at Agincourt.

Sir Thomas went on to have an impressive military and political career beyond the confines of Norfolk. He was a staunch supporter of the Lancastrian dynasty and part of Henry V’s inner circle, he was instrumental in the king’s political and military successes. In 1415, Sir Thomas went with Henry V to Agincourt where he is thought to have been in charge of the archers, riding out in front of the English lines giving the order to strike the French. Sir Thomas became a hero to many and was immortalised in Shakespeare’s Henry V, where one Act takes us through the English and French camps on the eve of the battle, portrayed as a steadfast and loyal ‘old hero’. However, whilst he was considered ‘good’ in Shakespeare’s play, there was a piece of folklore that grew amongst the populace following the completion of the Gate. Its theme depicted the process of Sir Thomas paying for the building of the Erpingham Gate as an act of personal penance – for a seedy episode during his life!

 

Erpingham (Statue)2

When it comes to legends, you would think that their themes would rely more on history books and the information, if not facts therein. In the case of Erpingham, this legend, of which we speak, would have made reference to the fact that Sir Thomas was against Henry le Dispencer, Bishop of Norwich. For instance, in efforts to turn the City of Norwich against the Bishop, Sir Thomas managed to persuade the City’s authorities to endorse a list of accusations against the Despenser, who sympathised with the deposed Richard II and became implicated in a rebellion against Henry IV. As it was, the house of Despenser had a long-standing enmity with the House of Lancaster – and ultimately Sir Thomas. When the King Richard II was disposed of, Bishop Henry le Despenser was disgraced. Add to this the fact that it was Sir Thomas Erpingham who, when in exile with Henry Bolingbroke, helped the future Henry V to secure the throne, whilst capturing Richard and offering ‘advice’ that because Richard was a possible threat, he should be removed! With the Bishop of Norwich disgraced, Erpingham became even more influential in Norfolk.

The result of these acts was that a serious breach of trust opened up between Erpingham and Bishop le Despenser, the repercussions of which may have been felt by both Sir Thomas and the Church beyond the year of 1406 when Despenser died. We do not know! However, if this legend ever found root beyond Dispenser and the next two Bishops of Norwich – Alexander Tottington (1407 to 1413) and Richard Courteney (1413 to 1415) – then it must have been with John Wakering (or Wakeryng) who was Bishop of Norwich from 1415 and until 1425. It was during this period in office when the Erpingham Gate was built. So, was any sort of reconciliation between the Church and Sir Thomas settled during Wakering’s period in charge?

Whenever it was, if the wound was ever to be healed then Sir Thomas needed to make some sort of financial gesture to the Church – because that was what they liked! As things turned out, it was said that he came up with a two-pronged solution that, with God’s help, would satisfy both the Church and his belief that heaven awaited those who donated generously to the church; he also must have hoped that his earthly bones would eventually be laid to rest in the Cathedral when his time came. They say that this was the basis on which Sir Thomas Erpingham built his Gate. When Sir Thomas did die in 1428, his bones were indeed buried in the north side of the Chancel (or presbytery) of the Cathedral, along with his two wives.

Erpingham (His Tomb)
Sir Thomas Erpingham’s tomb in Norwich Cathedral.

Erpingham (Friar)2That was one version of the legend; but it would seem that the populace much preferred another version of the legend that tells quite a different story – and with much less historical content. This one goes along the lines having a Friar in the opening scene – we’ll call him Brother John for the purpose of this version – who clearly lusts after Sir Thomas Erpingham’s wife, Joan. We do not know which Joan the tale refers to; both of Thomas’s wifes carried the same name for he married a Joan, daughter of Sir William Clopton of Clopton, Suffolk, then married a second Joan, daughter of Sir Richard Walton sometime around 1411. No matter, for this legend tells us that during Mass, Brother John slipped a note into Joan’s hand. Curiousity alone dictated that she would read it at the first opportunty, her subsequent blushes apparently telling Sir Thomas all he needed to know of the note’s content. But, being a faithful wife, she still insisted that her husband read it word for word, knowing that he would take matters into his own hands and take steps to remove the problem that lurked beneath a religious habit! Sir Thomas did just that – and so cunningly; first by noting the time and place suggested by Brother John for his meeting with Joan, both perfect for his plans. The meeting would take place at dusk when disguise was so much easier, and the place would be a quiet spot by the River Wensum – a short but convenient walk away from the Cathedral, Whitefriars Priory and the busy part of the City. We of course, do not know if this friar came from the Blackfriar fraternity, or that of the Whitefriars stood next to the Cathedral in Pockthorpe with the River Wensum in between. Sir Thomas then decided to dress in one of his wife’s more favoured dresses before leaving with his faithful servant to the ‘trysting’ rendezvous which some believed was downstream from the rear of Whiefriars and just short of Cow Tower – again, we cannot be certain.

Erpingham (Friars)
Friars

Once there, Sir Thomas, now further disguised with a silk scarf tied over his head, stood beneath a tree at the water’s edge and gazed across the water to the bank opposite; waiting, but at the same time listening intently for sounds of any movement behind him. In the meantime, his servant concealed both himself and Thomas’s horse under cover a short distance away. It was not long before (alias) ‘Lady Erpingham’ heard advancing footsteps behind him and then felt stumpy fingers begin to move over his hip. “Thank you for coming – my love”. Brother John got no further with his obvious intentions for, almost in a single movement, Sir Thomas reached for a metal object hidden beneath the waist of the dress, swung round and struck Brother John firmly on the side of his bald head. The Friar fell first on his knees and then face downwards towards the river-edge reeds. He was dead.

The recipient of the legend is led to believe that it was never Sir Thomas’s intention to kill his victim, but only to give him a heavy lesson which he would never forget – such was his anger……..“How do we get rid of this lecher” he eventually asked his servant, who had come to his master’s assistance immediately he saw the Friar hit the ground. His reply was quick and straight forward. “He has no blood showing, just a dent my Lord. The best we can do is to return him to the Priory grounds”. With the help of Thomas’s horse they took the body the short distance to the Priory’s boundary wall. There, the two men lifted it over the wall and propped Brother John up in a sitting position – as if the Friar was asleep.

The corpse had not been there long, after Sir Thomas, servant and horse had quietly departed, when another Friar, in this instance a Brother Richard who was a very pious man, noticed Brother John – apparantly asleep when he should have been at prayers! Seeing this known womaniser lazely avoiding his religious duties caused Richard to pick up a stone and throw it in the direction of John. It so happened, that his aim was good, too good in fact; the stone hit the side of Brother John’s head, causing him to keel over, once again hitting the ground. Believing that he had actually killed Brother John and in doing so sinned, Richard took a further step towards further weakness; he lifted the body and rolled it over the wall where it fell to lay outside the Priory boundary. He then quietly called on the services of his own pony and left the Whitefriars and what he thought was his crime scene.

Erpingham (Friar on horse)

Now it so happened that Sir Thomas Erpingham’s personal servant again rode past the Whitefriar’s outer wall on an errand for his master. He could not help noticing, with some puzzlement, the body lying on the wrong side of the wall from where he and Sir Thomas had first left it. Maybe it was a degree of panic, if not a cool calculated decision, that caused the servant to climb down from his horse and replace his elevated position with that of the corpse which by then was stiff with rigor martis. He managed to get former John into an upright position, his feet into the stirrups and his wrists tied to the reins before firmly slapping the horse’s rump into a gallop.

Erpingham (Gate Interior)
The Erpingham Gate – as seen from Tombland Alley. The Erpingham Gate is one of two entrances into the Cathedral Close from Tombland. The other is St Ethelbert’s Gate Link  © Copyright Evelyn Simak and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

As for Brother Richard, he thought that he had left his unfortunate experience behind him as he too rode out of Norwich, all be it at a much slower pace. But then he heard the sound of galloping hooves approaching towards him from the rear. He instictively turned his head to see the ‘gastly figure’ of Brother John approaching fast on a horse which. When alongside Richard’s pony it pulled up causing the dead friar to fall off to beneath the ponty’s feet. Richard was absolutely terrified – feeling the guilt of what he thought he had done. It was nothing less than divine intervention he thought and decided, there and then, that he must confess! He immediately turned his pony and made his way back to the Bishop and told him all that he knew.

Inevitably perhaps, Friar Richard was sentenced to be hanged for his apparent sins, but as he stood on the gallows, praying for forgiveness and waiting for the immident drop into oblivion if not heaven, Sir Thomas came on to the scene and forced his way through a crowd eager to witness what was a public strangulation. He shouted “Hangman – stop!” as he climbed the scaffold steps, removing the implements of execution and then descending the steps with the Friar. Sir Thomas, the most powerful knight in Norfolk at the time, sought out  the Bishop and did not hesitate to kneel before him to admit that he, Thomas, was the one who had killed Friar John. He told the of circumstances surrounding the Mass and his thoughts and planning which led up to the murder along that part of the River Wensum which runs past Whitefriars, towards Cow Tower, Bishops Bridge and beyond. The Bishop listened, then contemplated and decided that the act of this killing was manslaughter…….the sentence was not to be death for such a distinguished person of the County, but one of a penance which Sir Thomas had to agree to if he was ever to be forgiven and find his place in heaven. What was agreed was for him to pay the costs of building what was to become known as the Erpingham Gate.

Erpingham (Whitefriars)1
Whitefriars flint wall, Cowgate (1939). This was to the north-east of Whitefriars bridge which once formed part of an anchorage attached to the adjoining Whitefriars Monastery. Founded by Philip de Cowgate circa 1256 and suppressed in 1543. Photo: George Plunkett.
Erpingham (Whitefriars)2
Whitefriars Friary doorway, Cowgate  west side. (1961). Uncovered in 1961 it stood adjacent to the anchorage. Photo: George Plunkett.
Erpingham (Whitefriars)3
Whitefriars Friary doorway, Cowgate east side (1988). Photo: George Plunkett.

FOOTNOTE: The Erpingham Gate was erected between 1420 and 1435, in a style which matches the west front of the cathedral itself. The exterior of the gate has a small statue of Sir Thomas above, although this was apparently only put in place in the 17th century – some speculate that it came from Sir Thomas’s tomb in the Cathedral’s Presbytery. The interior side of the Gate also displays the Erpingham coat of arms. There are no less than 24 Christian Saints carved in the archway – 12 male and 12 female – a nice example of equal treatment some 600 years before the Equality Act. (Would this have had anything to do with the fact that Sir Thomas had two wives?).

Erpingham (Statue)1
The small statue of Sir Thomas above the front arch of the Erpingham Gate. Although this was apparently only put in place in the 17th century – some speculate that it came from Sir Thomas’s tomb in the Cathedral’s Presbytery.

About the time when the Erpingham Gate was being built, other work associated with the rebuilding of the church of the Dominican Friars and a new East window for the church of the Augustinian Friars was taking place. History does suggest that Sir Thomas donated even more of his money to projects such as these. What is not clear is whether, or not Sir Thomas, following his death in 1428 ever left any of his funds to William Alnwick, who was the Bishop of Norwich between 1426 and 1436. This Bishop continued with further enhancements within the Cathedral precincts by altering and improving the Cathedral itself – as well as his Palace!

We are told that much of the rebuilding of the Dominican friary in Norwich was financed by Sir Thomas Erpingham and his son Robert, who became a friar there. The gate that bears his name is thought to have been built at his cost, a gift to the cathedral, ca.1420. The upper portion, surrounding the canopy within which Sir Thomas’s statue is recessed and faced with flint in Norfolk style. Below it, surrounding the Perpendicular arch, the outward face of the gateway is highly decorated with figures of saints. The turrets on the buttresses at either side also bear sculptures, as well as the heraldic devices of Erpingham and the families of his two wives, and each turret is topped by the statue of a priest. The word yenk (“think”) is engraved at various places on the gateway, and is a request for viewers to remember (and say a prayer for) the donor.

The date of the building of the gate is not known for certain, but it must have taken place after his second marriage (1411). The style suggests the 1420s, and it seems likely the gate would have been given at a time when Erpingham’s thoughts were turning to his death and afterlife – by this time he would have been in his sixties. There were certainly stories that he built the gate as a penance for a sin he had committed – different versions suggest a homicide, his role in the disgrace of Bishop Despenser, his support of heretics – or even gratitude for surviving Agincourt; but there is no real foundation for any of these. If anything, the highly decorated gate is an assertion of orthodoxy at a time when Lollardy was posing a challenge to the established order and at a time when Sir Thomas might have been concerned with his spiritual future.

Erpingham died in 1428 and was buried inside Norwich cathedral, in a tomb built in advance, alongside his two wives; a chantry was established there in his name. His testament did not forget the city in whose affairs he had always shown an interest. He left sums of money to the cathedral and the Prior and monks there, as well as to the church of St. Martin at Palace; his armour too he left to the cathedral. He also bequeathed money to the sisters and poor inmates of St. Giles’ hospital, Bishopgate, and lesser sums to prisoners in the gaols of Norwich castle and the city Guildhall, as well as to hermits within the city.

The construction of the gate may have been an act intended to win favour from the Cathedral in which he hoped to be buried, to win favour from God, and to establish a memorial to himself. The armour in which he is depicted in the statue may have been that which was bequeathed to the cathedral. Although his will makes no reference to the gate, it is possible he commissioned it shortly before his death, with the work finished posthumously by his executors, or it may even have been entirely a project of his executors. His testament focused on pious and charitable bequests and left the rest of his worldly goods to his executors’ disposition – they may have felt the gateway a suitable application of that wealth, and certainly it has stood the test of time. It has been argued that his statue is not the right size for its niche and may have been moved there from his tomb, replacing some other statue on a religious theme.

THE END

Information Sources:
Wikipedia – on Sir Thomas Erpingham, Henry V and the Bishops of the time.
users.trytel.com/tristan/towns/florilegium/popdth04.html
Hugh Lupton, Norfolk Folk Tales, The History Press, 2013
Photos:
Banner Heading © Victoria and Albert Museum, London
George Plunkett – by kind permission of Jonathan Plunkett.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Titanic: A Norwich Connection!

Prologue:
On the 15th April 1912 the RMS Titanic, billed as ‘unsinkable’, sank into the icy waters of the North Atlantic after hitting an iceberg on its maiden voyage, killing 1,517 people. The United Kingdom’s White Star Line built the Titanic as the most luxurious cruise ship in the world. It was nearly 900 feet long and more than 100 feet high. The liner could reach speeds of 30 knots and was thought to be the world’s fastest ship. With its individualised watertight compartments, it was seen as virtually unsinkable. On its first voyage, from Southampton to New York with stops in Cherbourg, France, and Queenstown, Ireland, the Titanic was carrying 2,206 people, including a crew of 898. A relatively mild winter had produced a bumper crop of icebergs in the North Atlantic, but the crew, believing their ship was unsinkable, paid scant attention to warnings.

Titanic (Icebergs)1

On the night of Sunday, April 14, other ships in the area reported icebergs by radio, but their messages were not delivered to the bridge or the captain of the Titanic. The iceberg that struck the ship was spotted at 11:40 p.m. Although a dead-on collision was avoided, the Titanic‘s starboard side violently scraped the iceberg, ripping open six compartments. The ship’s design could withstand only four compartments flooding. Minutes later, the crew radioed for help, sending out an SOS signal, the first time the new type of help signal was used. Ten minutes after midnight, the order for passengers to head for the lifeboats was given. Unfortunately, there were only lifeboats for about half of the people on board. Additionally, there had been no instruction or drills regarding such a procedure and general panic broke out on deck.

The survivors, those who successfully made it onto the lifeboats, were mostly women who were traveling first class. In fact, the third-class passengers were not even allowed on to the deck until the first-class female passengers had abandoned the ship. White Star President Bruce Ismay jumped on to the last lifeboat though there were women and children still waiting to board. At 2:20 a.m., the Titanic finally sank. Breaking in half, it plunged downward to the sea floor, taking Captain Edward Smith down with it. The Carpathia arrived about an hour later and rescued the 705 people who made it into the lifeboats. The people who were forced into the cold waters all perished.

Official blame for the tragedy was placed on the captain and bridge crew, all of whom had died. In the wake of the accident, significant safety-improvement measures were established, including a requirement that the number of lifeboats on board a ship reflect the entire number of passengers.

The sinking of the Titanic has become a legendary story and 1985, after many attempts over many years, divers were finally able to locate the wreckage of the Titanic on the floor of the North Atlantic.

Titanic (wreck-bow)
The wreck (bow section) of RMS Titanic.

The Story Of Our Norfolk Couple:
We are again into April and yet another Anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic on the 15 April 1912 has come round. Much has already been written since the date of that tragedy – facts, such as they are known, probably much fiction on which dreamed up novels, short stories, myths and movies have been written; most with the profit motive in mind. This blog is not about the whole gambit, but only about a Norwich couple, who probably would never had hit the history books if they had not bought tickets to emigrate aboard that ill-fated ship.

img_3267Edward Beane: was born in Hoveton, Norfolk, England on 19 November 1879. He was the son of George Beane, a brewery worker who worked for the large Bullard Brewery in Norwich, and Mary Ann Cox; both had been Norfolk born and bred, marrying on 29 November 1877. Edward, our subject, was one of ten children, his siblings being: Sarah, George Herbert, William, Charles Archie, Caroline Augusta, Ernest Christmas, May Christine, Robert and Bertie Stanley.

Edward first appears on the 1881 census living with his family at Armes Street in Heigham, Norwich, Norfolk but they then moved to 231 Northumberland Street, Norwich by the time of the 1891 census. Between then and the next census in 1901 the family had moved further down the same street to Number 188 where Edward was described as a bricklayer. It was a trade that was to stay with him beyond the time when the family lived at 43 Bond Street in Norwich.

img_3269Ethel Louisa Clarke: was born on 15 November 1889 in Norwich, Norfolk, England. She was the daughter of Boaz Clarke, a boot factory warehouseman, and Louisa Webb, both natives of Norwich who had married in early 1881. Ethel was one of their five surviving children from a total of eleven, her known siblings being: Flora May, William Webb, Sydney Charles p, Gladys Lilian, Reginald Boaz, Dorothy and Ellen.

Ethel first appears on the 1891 census, living at 172 Northumberland Street, Heigham, Norwich and was still at this address for the 1901 census. So for this period of her life she knew the ten year older Edward Beane. By the time of the 1911 Census, Ethel was still living with her family but at 21 Churchill Road, Norwich where she was described as a single dressmaker and furrier.

The Leading Events:
At 17 years of age, Ethel Louise Clarke was not ready for either marriage or emigration when Edward Beane raised the topics prior to his first departure to New York in 1907. However, both proposals appealed to her when he asked her to wait until he had saved enough money. Ethel, of course, said yes.

It was on the 13 April 1907, Edward, a bricklayer aged almost 28, crossed the Atlantic to New York on the Philadelphia with his two brothers, all travelling in steerage to save money. This was their maiden voyage and they sailed in the knowledge that each one of them would earn better wages than at their old construction jobs in Norfolk. Edward, at least, was to share his time between New York and Norwich, writing to Ethel in between, in fact right up to the time when he returned home aboard the Adriatic, arriving in Southampton on 22 December 1910. It is not known if he continued commuting thereafter but it was at this point in his life, at the age of 29 years, that he intended to finally ‘tie the knot’ with his chosen bride Ethel Louisa Clarke. However, that did not happen until March 1912 when, by this time, the couple had saved up a ‘nest egg’ – a figure which someone, in later years, estimated had been in the region of some 500 dollars? 

It was only a day or so before the 10th April, the day when this ‘unsinkable’ ship was due to set sail on its maiden voyage, that Edward and Ethel said goodbye to their families and left for Southampton. At the Terminal they bought two second class tickets for the sum of £26 (ticket number 2908), boarding the Titanic that day, not only as emigants but also ‘honeymooners’

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RMS Titanic – Outward Bound

Edward and Ethel were one of 13 honeymoon couples and were in their cabin when the ship struck the iceberg at about 2.00am on the 15 April 1912. They did not think much of the jolt they felt until a woman in a nearby cabin came to tell them about the order to go to the boat deck with lifebelts and to wear warm clothes. Subsequent reports say that Edward urged Ethel to hurry and not to worry about bringing any of their few valuables; most of their savings were locked in the Purser’s office.

On the boat deck, Ethel was quickly ushered to Lifeboat 13 and had no time for more than a quick kiss from Edward. Three or four more passengers were loaded before it was launched, but Ethel lost sight of her husband and hoped that he would surely take another lifeboat. Edward was indeed rescued, but the stories conflict of how it happened. The problem was that both he and Ethel were to tell different versions of that night to reporters. In one, Edward stated he kept an eye on his wife’s lifeboat from the deck of the Titanic. Then, as the ship sank, he jumped and swam “for hours” until he reached it and was pulled aboard. The problem with this version is that no one would have survived that long in icy waters. Also, a passenger in Lifeboat 13, Lawrence Beesley, wrote a detailed account of the entire night shortly afterward and never mentioned rescuing anyone from the water. Because Lifeboat 13 was, apparently, only half full, some passengers did want to return to help those in the water, but most refused because they felt that their boat would be swamped.

Titanic (Lifeboats)1
Lifeboats Away!

In another version that the Beane’s gave to the press stated that Edward was picked up by lifeboat 9 and he didn’t find Ethel on the Carpathia until after it docked in New York. This, again, seems unlikely because great care had been taken to compile accurate passenger lists and roll calls were also taken to help passengers find each other. It is possible, however, that Edward did jump aboard Lifeboat 13 at the last minute before launch, when no other women or children were available or willing to board. No one knows, but if he was like some other male survivors who panicked and ‘smuggled’ themselves into lifeboats, he probably would have met with public ridicule for not being “a gentleman” and going down with the ship – if indeed this was the case? Maybe, he and Ethel made up their stories to ease any guilt on his part? These questions and any viewpoints here are, however, purely speculative! However, bear in mind that another statement from an independent source said, perhaps in their defence: “They (the Beanes) were one of a few honeymooners who were not parted by the rule “women and children first”. Both were rescued in lifeboat 13”. As it is, Edward Beane is also listed as being a Lifeboat 13 passenger by Encyclopedia Titanica, the main source for all things Titanic and the principal aid in compiling this account.

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Edward Beane and Ethel in 1931 (Courtesy of Phillip Gowan, USA)

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Edward and Ethel settled in Rochester, New York where Ethel gave birth to a stillborn baby on 13 January 1913, making it likely that she was pregnant whilst on board the Titanic. The couple settled at 44 Michigan Street for the rest of their lives, never to return to England. Edward continued to work as a bricklayer and was a member of the Bricklayers’ Union. Ethel, for her part, delivered two children, both sons: Edward (1913-1982) and George (1916-1998) and during the rest of their lives seldom spoke about the Titanic, giving only the odd newspaper interview. Ethel was widowed in 1948 when Edward Beane died in the Rochester State Hospital on 24 October, just shy of his 69th birthday. A local newspaper reported: “Mrs. Beane is survived by her son, George Beane of Rochester, four granddaughters and six great-grandchildren”.

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Ethel continued to live at the family home in Rochester before entering a nursing home in the last two years of her life. She died on 17 September 1983 aged 93 (although she had convinced everyone she was only 90) and was buried with her husband in White Haven Memorial Park.

Beane (Titanic)6
Relatives of Titanic survivors Ethel and Ted Beane in the “100th Anniversary” replica wireless room at the Titanic exhibition in The Forum, Norwich in April 2012. From Left:- Grant Turner – Ted Beane’s great-great nephew; with his cousin Angelito Beane, aged 8 years; and Patrick Thacker, (back) whose grandmother was Ted Beane’s cousin. From Right:- Edward Clarke, Ethel Beane’s nephew and Pat Gregory (back) who is Ethel’s niece. Photo: Denise Bradley.

THE END

Sources:
https://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/titanic-survivor/ethel-beane.html
https://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/titanic-survivor/edward-beane.html
https://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/titanic-survivor-ethel-beane-died-nursing-home.html
https://www.edp24.co.uk/news/picture-gallery-relatives-of-norwich-survivors-of-titanic-gather-for-special-anniversary-event-1-1349180

COPYRIGHT NOTICE2

Norwich Steam Packet Explosion 1817

The day of the 4 April 1817 began just like any other April day – but that wasn’t how the morning would turn out to be. The day was. in fact, Good Friday and Wright’s ‘Norwich & Yarmouth Steam Packet’ was preparing to take on twenty-two passengers, for an Easter trip to Great Yarmouth, some 24 river miles down-stream on the coast of Norfolk. The date of April 4, 1817 was also the sixth anniversary of the opening of Foundry Bridge from where the steam packet had regularly sailed ever since 10 August 1813. It was also the place where, during the construction of the Bridge, a ten-year-old boy drowned. That Good Friday morning was another tragic incident when, this time, the steam packet was lost.

River Wensum (19th C Steam Packet)
The steam packet painted by John Crome. Picture: Archant Archives

At the appointed moment on the clock and with all passengers on board, the crew of John Wright’s boat undertook to ‘cast off’, but had hardly moved twenty yards from Foundry Bridge and its regular mooring there, when a huge explosion of its engine’s boiler took place. That moment claimed the lives of nine men, women and children and caused many other injuries of varying severity on board. Of the twenty-two passengers on board, five men, three women and one child were killed instantly. A number of other people, from Acle, Norwich, North Creake and Yarmouth had fractured arms and legs and were taken to the Norfolk and Norwich Hospital for treatment of those injuries, which included some loss of limbs and where one person died. The remaining seven escaped with minor injuries. It was said at the time that when the tragedy happened ‘the River Wensum turned red and many citizens cried’.

River Wensum (19th C Norwich Castle)1
A Robert Ladbooke painting of Foundry Bridge in Norwich in the 1820s. Picture: Norfolk Museums Service.

Those city citizens who heard that explosion rushed to the scene out of initial curiosity, but for some, curiosity quickly turned to a desire to help – from the very moment they witnessed the terrible scene of destruction and carnage that greeted them. The Norwich Mercury of the day reported:

“One of those unfortunate accidents which attend even the best arranged establishments that carry with them a certain though remote danger, occurred yesterday morning, and we state the extensive calamity with much acute pain. The horrible spectacle of eight mangled carcases, is yet before our eyes. These are the miserable victims of the bursting of the steam boiler in the packet which sails from Foundry bridge. Just after the boat has started, it had not gone twenty yards, when the tremendous explosion took place. The vessel was rent to atoms, so that little remains entire, from the stern to the engine room, except the keel and flooring,”

“Twenty-two passengers appear to have been on board. The bodies of eight are found – five men and three women, one child is missing, and six have been sent to hospital in a wounded state: six escaped unhurt. One person later died in hospital of their injuries.”

“Of these, one man was standing over the boiler when the explosion happened. It is said Major Mason was another, whose clothes were torn by the shock, but was otherwise uninjured. The third was an infant, two months old, and the little innocent was discovered at the bottom of the vessel in a profound sleep, after the removal of the dreadful wreck”.

“The boiler is a cylindrical vessel, playing fore and aft the vessel, about eight ft long and four ft in diameter, made of wrought iron, excepting one end, which laid towards the stem of the vessel, and is of cast iron. In consequence of the stress of stream being greater than the boiler was capable of sustaining, the cast iron part of the boiler gave way, and flew in a direction towards the stem of the vessel.”

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A nostalgic memory of ‘The Steam Packet’. The public house named after the vessels which plied their trade on the River Wensum. It became ‘The Ferry Inn’ and later ‘The Ferry Boat’. Today it has closed. Picture: Archant Archives.

 

Those who died were later named at a Court of Mayoralty which examined the cause of the accident. Such was the impact that the tragedy had on the city that its citizens raised a princely sum of £350 through a public subscription for the injured and the families of those who lost their lives. They were: John Bleasey (aged 4), Mary Bleasey (40) his mother, William Battledur, William Richardson, John Marron, Richard Squire, Thomas Luise, Elizabeth Stevens, Diana Smith.

Soon after the Foundry Bridge tragedy, a replacement packet was introduced on the river. It was worked by four horses, as in a thrashing machine with the animals walking on a path 18 feet in diameter.  The vessel itself was propelled from six to seven miles an hour, as wind and tide dictated.  However, this particular packet did sail for long; improved steam packets were soon introduced which went from Norwich to Yarmouth daily.

Being the way of all newspapers for having a ‘nose for a good story’, the Norwich Mercury picked up on the fact that the steam packet owner, John Wright, had bought a French boat and fitted it with a steam boiler. They reported that Wright had been challenged to a race but ‘someone’, maybe with a wager place on the outcome of the race – who knows, had strapped down the steam escape value to make the boat go faster. This was to determine that the incident that day had not been an accident and, as a result, John Wright had to pay compensation to the injured which made him destitute. The incident was later raised in Parliament where, under the heading of ‘STEAM BOATS’, Hansard recorded in ‘HC Deb 08 May 1817 vol 36 cc271-2’:

Mr. Harvey said, the House must all have heard of the unfortunate accident which happened some time ago at Norwich, when so many persons lost their lives in consequence of the explosion of the boiler of a Steam Packet. The cause of that explosion was owing, he understood, to the boiler not being of a right construction. It was from its being made of cast iron, and not of cast iron only, but cast iron mixed with other metals, which greatly increased the danger. As there were at present a great number of steam vessels in the different rivers of the country, and several other steam vessels were building, it became a matter of great importance to inquire into the means by which these vessels could be so constructed as to be attended with the least danger to the lives of the passengers. The hon. gentleman concluded with moving, “That a committee be appointed to consider of the means of preventing the mischief of explosion from happening on board steam boats, to the danger or destruction of his majesty’s subjects on board such boats.”

Mr. Curwen said, the accident at Norwich could not have happened, had it not been for gross neglect with respect to the management of the safety valve. It was not from any deficiency in the materials of which the boiler was composed.

Mr. W. Smith said, the accident was owing to the safety valve being overloaded. The object of the committee should be, by examining engineers, to learn how the safety of the passengers might be best secured. It might be impossible to prevent the bursting of the boiler, but the boiler might burst without causing those inconveniences with which the bursting of cast-iron boilers was attended.

Mr. Thompson expressed his hope that the inquiry in a committee might remove the alarm of the country.

The motion was then agreed to.

Steam packets were suspended by parliamentary decree for extra safety measures to be carried out nationally; existing packets were replaced by ones’ worked by horses, as on a threshing machine where the animals trundled on a circular on-board path, which was about 18ft in diameter. By this means, the vessels were propelled 6 – 7 mph, as wind and tide dictated. However, this type of packet did not run for long before improved steam packets were introduced.

River Wensum (19th C Newspaper)
An image of how the Norwich Mercury reported the tragedy in 1817. Picture: Archant Archives.

THE END

Sources:
https://www.eveningnews24.co.uk/views/remembering-the-big-explosion-that-rocked-part-of-norwich-1-4962457
https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/commons/1817/may/08/steam-boats
https://www.researchgate.net/publication/330742563_The_Norwich_Explosion_of_1817_A_Local_Tragedy_of_National_Significance
http://www.gtyarmouth.co.uk/Bygones/Crisp/html/crisp2.htm

Banner Photo: A picture by artist John Thirtle: Boat Builder’s Yard, near the Cow’s Tower, Norwich, c 1812. Picture: Norfolk Museums Service

COPYRIGHT NOTICE2

The Profit On The Side Of The Plate!

Jeremiah James Colman was once asked how he had made such a vast fortune from the sale of mustard. His reply was:

“I make my money from the mustard that people throw away on the sides of their plate”.

 

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Pockthorpe Towermill 1885. Photo via Norfolk Mills.

‘Old’ Jeremiah Colman, as he was to be known in later life, was originally a farmer and had also owned Bawburgh Mill. He had no children and was to adopt James, the eldest of his brother Robert’s fifteen children. Jeremiah was a devout Baptist, kindly, honest and a good master.  Jeremiah Colman bought Pockthorpe smockmill in March of 1804 and sometime during the next ten years he demolished the old mill and replaced it with a towermill; to be known as either Bagshaw’s Mill, Bayfield’s Mill or St Paul’s Mill. The towermill had six floors and stood on land between Magdalen Road and Silver Road, approximately where Knowsley Road was later laid. After ten years had passed, Jeremiah Colman branched out when he leased Stoke Holy Cross watermill on the 3rd April 1814. He bought it as a going concern and paid £51 2s 0d to Edward Armes for his stock of mustard.

Mustard Revolution (Advert May 7th 1814)

This is the point where the story of Colman’s Mustard really begins. It was from this moment when Old Jeremiah plotted his Company’s prosperous 50-year period at Stoke and gradually introduced a range of products, starting with the introduction of starch manufacturing. Under his ownership, between 1814, when he set up at Stoke, and 1851 when he died, wages rose regularly – although employees, including 8 and 9-year old boys, worked 12 hour shifts with two breaks and wages were 3d per hour. The working day for employees was normally from 6.00am to 6.00pm, although sometimes a shift could go on until midnight when some workers faced a long walk home.

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‘Old’ Jeremiah had no children whilst his brother Robert, who was farming at Rockland St. Andrew, had fifteen – eleven of them were boys. It was the eldest, named James, who was adopted by Jeremiah, brought up and when he became 22 years of age, Jeremiah took him into his Company and gifted him partnership; the date was 15th February 1823. This date proved to be a significant date for the future development of Colman’s Mustard, because from that point Jeremiah shared the management burden of looking after a growing business, which in turn, opened up further job prospects for many people in and around Norwich. Young James began with a quarter share which increased to one-third in 1827 and half in 1831. Later on, two other brothers, Jeremiah the 2nd and Edward who were to represent the business in London, were also admitted into partnership; but this was not until 1844, six years before land was purchased at the Carrow Abbey district of Norwich for further expansion of the Company.

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Stoke Holy Cross Mill, 1880.

Before then, however, young James had to roll up his sleeves to sift and mix the mustard flour obtained from the crushed seed. Old Jeremiah remained at his desk, starting his day’s work at 7am, just one hour after the men had commenced their labours. With such commitment from everyone, the business prospered and by 1851 the firm was advertising mustard in casks, tinfoil packets, round tins and several types and different packages of starch, along with indigo and Prussian blue for laundries and manufacturers. The size of the business in those early days was relatively small and can be gauged from the records of a member of the Colman family who recalled his boyhood memories of 1834. Those memories included the moment when he watched Lazarus Horne:

“……who had only one arm, doing all the day’s packing himself; packing the mustard into wooden casks which, apart from a small amount of mustard being packed in bottles for export, were the only containers then used for the mustard flour……”

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The Colman Dynasty. Photo: Public Domain

Then, on the 3rd December 1851, “Old” Jeremiah died; he was aged 74 years. Barely two years later, on the 24th November 1853 James Colman, his adopted nephew and successor, also died. It was his 24-year-old son, Jeremiah James Colman, who took over full control of the family business – he being the third member of the family to do so.

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An advert from 1855 which shows the London head office of Colman’s Mustard in Cannon Street. Photo:  (c) Unilever.

colmans (the bull)Young Jeremiah J Colman now controlled what was still a small local company selling modest amounts of mustard and starch. However, in the space of 50 years he was to build, what was essentially a mustard company, into a global brand by using innovative marketing techniques, hard-work, honesty and integrity. J.J. Colman also proved to be a brilliant innovator whose masterstrokes included creating Colman’s famous Bull’s Head trademark in 1855 and moving, in 1858, from nearby Stoke Holy Cross to a site at Carrow Abbey in Norwich.  His decision to leave Stoke Holy Cross was brought about partly by an uncertainty about the lease renewal, coupled with the obvious advantage of working near to river and rail transport links which the City of Norwich offered. The young entrepreneur had also identified a ready-made workforce in the city – cloth workers made redundant by the decline of the textile industry in Norfolk and its exodus to northern mills.

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Colman’s Carrow Factory, circa 1850’s. Photo: J Stewart.

The mid-19th century was a time of great poverty in Norwich following the dwindling of the textile industry. Land was cheap and labour plentiful. The grounds of the historic Carrow Abbey were selected as the site for the new factory and, without planners to satisfy, the Carrow mustard mill was working by 1858. Before long, flour and mustard mills began to appear along the bank of the river, with engine houses, granaries, and stores. The Company’s ‘Counting House’, still identifiable today, was built shortly afterwards for use as the administrative headquarters.

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A second millenium view of Jeremiah Colman’s 19th century home, known as ‘Carrow Abbey’. The figures on the left are entering Colman’s Mustard canteen. Photo: via Fanny Cornforth.

After Jeremiah J. Colman married Caroline, they set up home at Carrow Abbey, where they remained for 40 years with the head of a growing company able to give personal supervision daily to his business which was at the bottom of his garden. The Colman family had always been in advance of their time in recognising the need to look after the welfare of their employees. Even the wife of James Colman organised a clothing club at Stoke in the very early days. It was the move to Carrow and the great and rapid expansion of the business which accelerated the provision of social welfare for employees on a scale not seen in the neighbourhood before. In 1857 Carrow School began with 22 children in an upper room in King Street. This was followed by Colman building a school on Carrow Hill in 1864, years before education was compulsory. There was no better indication of the growth of Carrow Works than the fact that when, in 1870, the State took over responsibility for education in 1870, continuing in partnership with Colmans, there were 324 children on the school register. When the school opened, Colman sent a letter to each of his employee’s extolling the benefits of education. Here are a few highlights from that letter:

‘In these days of progress, that man is sure to be left far behind, who has neglected the cultivation of his intellect while he who strives to improve his mind stands a fair chance of raising himself in the social scale’

‘Remember the motto of your Reading Society ‘KNOWLEDGE IS POWER’, power for advancement, power to be good and to do good, power to be happy and to cause happiness to others’

‘It is of the utmost importance that you should teach your children to be punctual, neat and industrious.’

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Colman’s School built on Carrow Hill in 1864. Photo: Norwich Museum Service.

The truth was that the Colman family had always taken a benevolent interest in their workforce and, increasingly as the Company grew, they not only supplied schooling but contributed to the social life of its staff; for example: Christmas dinners in the granary, staff outings, a meals service for its workers – 4p bought hot meat, vegetable stew and a pint of coffee. Colman’s also provided a clothing club and lodgings for working girls, followed by a lending library and a pension fund; but these benefits were provided once the Company had grown to many hundreds of employees at the Carrow Works in Norwich.

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Colman’s Employees. Photo: Norwich Museum Service

In 1872 he set up a self-help medical club for his workers, encouraging them to contribute, matching their contributions with his own donations. Then, in 1878, the Company established a nursery for younger children, and employ an industrial nurse, called Phillipa Flowerday; plus, a dispensary set up for the benefit of his workers. Colman’s were also to build coffins for workers and their families, and build and rent out houses to workers and pensioners. The company owned hundreds of homes and accommodation was provided for many workers, but special provision was made for single women who were provided with low-cost accommodation. Most houses were in neighbouring Lakenham and Trowse, and some of the terraces were said to have had mustard-coloured front doors.  He even provided public houses in which his workforce could enjoy a pint or two. – And, it did not stop there!

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Former Colman Cottages built in School Terrace, Norwich by the Company for employees. Photo: Broads Authority.

An onsite kitchen was opened, this provided tea or coffee in the morning and a hot meal for lunch, charged at cost. Workers who were off sick long term would have food parcels delivered to them at home courtesy of the Company; to do this, somebody was employed full-time to deliver these food provisions. A clothing club was also established; this made saving towards the cost of clothing much easier. Additionally, the company contributed to the savings scheme. From 1874 a dressmaking teacher was hired to help female employee’s learn new skills that could be used in the home and save money. In fact, a whole series of educational classes were provided free of charge to all employees. Jeremiah Colman then insisted that his employees were insured against sickness or injury, the Company ran its own scheme for workers who could choose between that or joining a Friendly Society. From 1864 the dispensary employed a doctor to work alongside the nurse.

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Hand tinted glass plate showing thousands of workers leaving Colma’s Carrow works in 1900. Photo: (c) Unilever BNPS.

In 1856, Colman’s employed just 200 people, by 1862 this had risen to 600 and by the time of his death in 1898 it was closer to 2,000. The story of the rise of Colman’s and of the work and life of Jeremiah James Colman is fundamental to understanding the history of Norwich in the 19th century. Colman’s influence could be seen everywhere and his morals, actions and achievements drastically altered the lives of many thousands of people living in Norwich. This rapid growth of Colman’s Mustard ran counter to the general narrative of English 19th century industrial growth. In an age characterised by child labour, unsafe working environments and long hours for low pay, Colman displayed a remarkable duty of care to his employees. Many industrialists of the time in this country claimed they could ill afford to treat their workers better or pay them more; to do so, would destroy their business and the nation’s economy. Jeremiah Colman proved that it was possible to grow a profitable business whilst treating workers with humanity and giving them some form of dignity.

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Jeremiah James Colman 1830-1898. Photo: Norwich Museum Service.

When Jeremiah James Colman died, he left £2,000 in his Will to the employee’s trust and the money from this was used to set up a pension fund. By the time he had departed Colman had built up a system of nurseries, schools, medical care, food provision, housing and pensions. A system of protection for his workers from cradle to grave – 50 years before the creation of the welfare state!

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Carrow Works, circa 1890. Photo: Public Domain.

Why did Colman feel the need to provide such assistance? He could very easily have turned a blind eye to the plight of his workers, like the majority of his contemporaries did. He was no social revolutionary, in an age of socially radical ideologies Colman was politically a liberal. He was however a devout Christian paying strict adherence to the Protestant religion. This drove his belief in a strong work ethic but also his compassion for his fellow man and his ethical approach to business. Colman’s brand of charity was that of self-help, he believed in giving to help people, but he believed that once helped people had a duty to do everything in their power to help themselves.

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Carrow Works barrel making, circa 1880. Photo: (c) Unilever BNPS

Such was Colman’s religious conviction that at a young age he had been tempted to turn down the opportunity to run the family business, for he feared it would impinge upon the time he could devote to religion and self-improvement. He even questioned the morality of wealth and feared he would become corrupted and greedy. As a future close friend of four-time Prime Minister William Gladstone, who offered Colman a baronetcy, Colman was to decline the offer saying:

‘anything I can do to promote the principles I have always supported … I am glad to do, but I much prefer that it should be without the reward or rank a title is supposed to give’.

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A Norfolk wherry moored outside the Carrow works in 1900 – the sailing barges were used to transport the mustard plants to the factory. Photo: (c) Unilever BNPS.

Outside of business, Jeremiah Colman had a great sense of civic responsibility stating:

‘Men should go into municipal affairs to see what they could do for the town, instead of seeing what the town could do for them’.

At the young age of 29 he was elected to Norwich Town Council. He was sheriff in 1862-63, mayor 1867-68, in 1869 he became a magistrate for Norwich and then for Norfolk in 1872. In 1871 he was elected as a liberal MP for Norwich, serving for 25 years but his political career was mixed.  He did not thrive in the Houses of Parliament as a Liberal MP, in part due to his poor oratory skills, but also because he very quickly became disillusioned with national politics. He was however much more successful as a local politician he sought to end the corruption for which Norwich was well known.

colmans (packing 1910)
Female workers packing penny oval tins in 1910. Photo: (c) Unilever BNPS.

He was a part of Norwich Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Society, this group met regularly and spent their time writing, reading and debating the great questions of the day focusing on politics, religion, society, and morality. He was closely involved with the successful launch of the Eastern Daily Press in 1870; a newspaper that is still going strong today. He also fought for, and won, having a preservation order placed upon the Norwich City Walls – or what was left of them after the City had decided to remove the ancient city gates in the previous century.

colmans (packing 1920)
Staff packing at the Carrow factory in the 1920’s. Photo: (c) Unilever BNPS.

Colman was one of the leaders of a subscription campaign that sought to argue for all public buildings in Norwich being used for the public benefit. By 1886 they had been successful in securing both the Castle and Blackfriars Hall for public use. At the time Colman was a trustee of Norwich Museums, whose collections were then housed in a purpose-built building on Exchange Street. After closing as a prison, the castle was offered to both the city and county councils for purchase, but they were unwilling to meet such expense. Briefly the decision had been made to allow the castle to become a ruin, however banker John Henry Gurney purchased the castle, and it re-opened as the museum we know today.

colmans (coat of arms)2So how was a small local company able to transform itself into one of the top 100 British companies in just under 50 years, whilst simultaneously providing a decent living for its workforce? Well, Marketing was the key to their success, and Jeremiah James Colman was the man driving this forward. In 1855 they adopted the now instantly recognisable bright yellow packaging with the distinctive bull’s head and in 1865 they gained a royal warrant from Queen Victoria. Colman’s products are still used by the Royal household today. They were one of the first companies to really push forward the marketing of their products to a consumer market. As early as the 1840’s Colman’s made the decision to start selling their products in much smaller packages (penny tins). This enabled smaller amounts to be purchased more cheaply which opened up a huge new potential customer base. Railway carriages were decorated in the distinctive brand colours to transport their goods across the country. Before the age of Television this allowed the whole country to see the Colmans imagery.

By the 1870’s Carrow had its very own marketing department, and by the late 1890s they had started hiring famous artists to create high quality advertising posters for them. Including the illustrator John Hassall and later the painter Alfred John Munnings. The growth of the business rested on the increasing nationwide and world-wide demand for the limited ranges of its quality products, and on what today would be known as good marketing. The selling and marketing were carried out by other members of the Colman, and carried on through their sons and grandsons from the Company’s Cannon Street offices in London.

In 1896 an important change took place in the structure of Colman’s Mustard when the partnership became a limited company with a capital of £1,350,000. The first chairman was Jeremiah James, who was succeeded after his death two years later by one the London cousins, Frederick Edward Colman.

By Acquisition and Amalgamation

The growth of Colman Mustard over 150 years or so did not come about solely by the introduction of new products, methods of manufacture, and increasing sales. These played their part, but so did the Colmans’ gift of creating the means by which competing firms could be taken over. This policy of expansion by acquisition appears to be as old as the 20th century, for it was in 1901 that a rival starch-making firm of Orlando Jones & Co. was absorbed. Two years later, principally interested in their competitor’s mustard and spice trade, Colmans took over Keen Robinson & Co., but found they had become one of the most important baby-food manufacturers in the country through sales of Robinson’s Patent Barley and Patent Groats.

colmans (keen robinsons 1925)
Keen Robinson & Co 1925. Photo: (c) Robinsons.

The period up the first world war marked the continued transformation of Colmans from a paternal 19th century business employing a great deal of labour, and relatively little mechanised, to one using mechanical processes tending towards automation, and backed by the different financial approach of the limited company. Then in 1936, Colmans became a public company and two years later, in 1938 joined forces with Reckitt’s of Hull to become Reckitt & Colman Ltd. The amalgamation was in the fateful year of Munich when, to all but the optimists, war was inevitable.

Carrow Works was severely damaged by air raids during the war. One in 1941 destroyed four buildings including the cereal and mustard departments and a year later the seed granaries, starch, blue and advertising departments were blitzed. In 1943, six months after his son Alan had been killed while flying as a war-time ferry pilot, Mr. Russell Colman retired from the board. For the first time for 130 years there was no Colman on the Norwich branch among the directors. In the main the heavy burden of carrying on the business under the difficulties of wartime fell on the shoulders of Sir Basil Mayhew and Mr. H. A. G. Salter.

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Destruction: The Carrow Works following one of the WW2 Luftwaffe raids. Photo: Norfolk County Council.

In 1945 the Reckitt & Colman Group was joined by another large business, Chiswick Products Ltd., manufacturers of polishes and similar lines, building up towards what were a world-wide range of foods, wines, soft drinks, household goods, toiletries, pharmaceuticals and industrial and other products. Probably the most significant developments of recent years were the acquisition in 1968 of the Norwich-based wine company Coleman & Co., long known for its tonic wine, Wincarnis. Because of the similarity of names many people thought that this was always a Colman product, but until 1968 it was not, although a hundred years before Colmans bought up Colemans of Bury St. Edmunds, a small mustard and starch manufacturer. The proprietor, Mr. W. J. Coleman, a chemist, then developed the tonic wine. Colemans had by this time become a considerable business as shippers and distributors of branded wines. Reckitt & Colman extended it by further acquisition of the business of Edward Robinson and, in 1969, of Moussec sparkling wine.

When the Colman family picked the site around the old Abbey at Carrow something like 160 years ago, they were really looking ahead. Despite automation, computers, and mechanical processes not dreamed of by the early employees who put the mustard into large and small containers by hand, there was a sizable number of workers in the Food & Wine Division in Norwich. It was a point touched upon by Mr. James Cleminson, who came to Carrow in 1960, was appointed managing director of the food division in 1970, and then went on to become chief executive of the then £200 million parent company, Reckitt & Colman Ltd. At the 150th Anniversary of Colmans in 1973, James Cleminson said that it was appropriate that the Company should acknowledge the debt owed to predecessors when he opened a mustard shop in Bridewell Alley in Norwich.

“I am sure”, he added, “that they would regard it as more important that we should maintain their progressive outlook for the future.”

colmans (mustard shop)
The Mustard Shop in Bridewell Alley, Norwich. Photo. EDP.

In 1995, Colman’s became part of Unilever’s Van Den Bergh Foods when it was purchased from Reckitt & Colman PLC. As part of the acquisition, Unilever acquired the dry sauces, condiments and mustards sold under the Colman’s brand name. In 2018, Unilever confirmed that it would close its base [Colmans] in Norwich! They went on to say that a transition period of moving production from Norwich to Burton-upon-Trent and Germany would begin in the autumn of 2018 and would continue until the end of 2019. To sweeten a bitter pill for many, Unilever said that it planned to open a new milling facility near Norwich for the production and packing of Colman’s mustard powder!

THE END

Sources:
Eastern Daily Press – ‘Mustard – Seed of a Great Idea’, Friday 9th February 1973
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colman%27s
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sir_Jeremiah_Colman,_1st_Baronet
https://shinealightproject.wordpress.com/2013/12/13/the-mustard-revolution-the-life-of-jeremiah-james-colman/
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2717690/History-never-hot-Colmans-Mustard-celebrates-200-years-Britains-tables-fascinating-archive-photos-adverts-showing-went-strength-strength.html

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