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  • A-Z of Bath by Peter Kilby

    I first came to Bath in June of 1966 with my architectural students from the Southampton of College of Art to study first-hand the beauty of this City when, unlike today, all museums were entry free. At midday we had packed lunches on the lawns of Victoria Park in front of John Wood the Younger’s iconic Royal Crescent. At this time the Royal Charter of 1966 was granted for the Bath University of Technology; and work had just finished on the first teaching block, part of what was to become the University of Bath, built on 106 acres of land at Claverton Down. The first degree ceremonies took place in the Bath Assembly Rooms.

    Pedestrianised Abbey Church Yard. (A-Z of Bath, Amberley Publishing)

    The ‘A-Z of Bath’ is not a Gazetteer but an overview of interesting places, events and people who have contributed to its rich history. This book therefore is written by an outsider looking in and is a personal perspective seen against a background of history, with subjects in alphabetical order, although the chronology of events is set down in the introduction.

    The name of Jane Austen is inextricably linked with the area following the posthumous publication of her novel ‘Northanger Abbey’ in 1818, a year after her death; which gave a mirror image of the ‘Polite Society’ of Georgian Bath. Ralph Allen, a onetime postmaster of Bath, owned and developed quarries at Combe Down producing the famous honey coloured Bath Stone and granted stone ‘gratis’ for the construction of the Bath Mineral Water Hospital, designed by John Wood the Elder.

    Abbey Church Yard is the epicentre of historic Bath whereas the name suggests a medieval Bath Abbey. The Roman Baths stand nearby from where the alleged healing ‘magical waters’ emerge. The legendary King Bladud had found that warm springs emerging here had cured him of leprosy and a small statue of him is seen on the walls of the King’s Bath as viewed from the Pump Room.

    Aquae Sulis (the Waters of Sulis). (A-Z of Bath, Amberley Publishing)

    Thomas Baldwin rose from humble beginnings to hold the post of City Architect in Bath and was responsible for much of the Georgian architecture. Together with John Wood the Elder and his son John Wood the Younger, they would change the face of Bath forever. The Royal Circus was designed by John Wood the Elder, (and carried out by his son) and he was particularly famous for producing his ‘Map of Bath’ setting out plans for the redevelopment. Both members of the Wood family were not popular with the establishment and had endless opposition to their ground-breaking proposals and ideas. In summary, the Woods developed a scheme of joining five storey terrace houses, in such a way as to achieve an overall palatial effect, which otherwise would not have been individually affordable.

    The coming of the Great Western Railway, from Bristol and onward to London, designed by the brilliant engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel opened opportunities for ordinary people to travel elsewhere in this country and beyond, and was evidence of the influence of the ‘Industrial Revolution’ of the 18th and 19th centuries. It is recorded that Brunel personally surveyed the route of the railway from Bristol to Bath, travelling by boat on the River Avon accompanied by his solicitor, such was his attention to detail; matched by his confidence when he placed a wager of £1000 that he would be able to travel from Bristol to London in two hours on the new railway.

    John Wood the Elder’s map of 1735, which encapsulates his vision for the future development of Bath. (Reproduced courtesy of Bath Record Office, A-Z of Bath, Amberley Publishing)

    The Countess of Huntingdon’s Chapel, in the iconic Paragon, were both designed by Thomas Warr Attwood (who was tragically killed later in a building site accident). The Chapel broke the mould of Georgian design and was presented in the neo gothic style for a Methodist Congregation. According to the listing description it was designed ‘to protect residents and visitors from the evils of Bath’s society’.

    Lansdown Crescent, another famous housing scheme, was made famous by its one-time resident the infamous William Beckford. He purchased both numbers 19 and 20 (part of a 20 house development) and in addition a further house in the next road which he interconnected with a bridge. He also built a tower in his garden nearby called Beckford’s Tower, as a retreat and treasury for his immensely valuable art collection, rescued from the forced sale of Fonthill, his former residence, described by Pevsner as ‘the most prodigious romantic folly in England’.

    The name ‘Richard Beau Nash’ epitomises the Georgian Polite Society. As Master of Ceremonies in the Assembly Rooms, he formulated a set of rules as a prerequisite of entry into the social elite and administered by an interview in the Pump Room of the Roman Baths.

    The Pulteney Bridge and Weir from Parade Gardens. (A-Z of Bath, Amberley Publishing)

    The Pulteney Bridge, probably the most famous building in Bath including a parade of shops on both sides, which interconnects central Bath with Bathwick on the other side of the River Avon. It was here that immensely rich Pulteney Family tried unsuccessfully to build a new town, which began and never came to fruition. A group of financiers called the ‘Pulteney Association’ did however purchase land, in NY State, USA after the American War of Independence, where a new town called ‘Bath’ was built.

    The medieval Vertue Brothers named Robert and William conceived and made the intricate fan vaulting to the Chancel of the present Abbey, comprising interlocking inverted cones, the crowning feature of today’s Parish Church. Without doubt these two men represent the pinnacle of design and craftsmanship in stone of the entire middle ages and have never been surpassed in absolute excellence.

    Richard I granted Charter No1 to the merchants and tradesmen of Bath giving the right to trade unimpeded, which was a turning point in the towns history, when trade became formalised and the Guildhall recognised as an instrument of local government. The economies of both Bath and its Abbey flourished afterwards in particular with the Wool Trade, immortalised by Chaucer’s Wife of Bath Tale in the’ Canterbury Tales’.

    Today Bath Abbey is undergoing significant changes under its ‘Footprint Project’ and we must wait and see the outcome.

    Peter Kilby's new book A-Z of Bath is available for purchase now.

  • King's Lynn From Old Photographs by Robert Pols

    King’s Lynn – Putting Names to the Legacy

    Amy Purdy took a risk when using volatile flash powder to illuminate the gloom of the Clifton House vault. (King's Lynn From Old Photographs, Amberley Publishing)

    My recently-published King’s Lynn from Old Photographs is not the first book to offer an early pictorial record of the town, and I don’t suppose it will be the last. Lynn’s rich past is still evident to any resident or visitor prepared to explore a little further afield than the town-centre shops, and a wealth of photographs has survived from that past. There really is room for a number of books investigating the borough’s heritage through pictures. Any one book, however, needs to have its own identity and character. The writer will, naturally, want it to be a bit different from the others, and when I started to explore the pictorial possibilities for King’s Lynn from Old Photographs, I knew what I wanted that difference to be.

    Books of old photographs routinely comment on what the illustrations show. They also, quite rightly, give credit to those who have allowed images from their collections to be reproduced. There is often, however, something missing: credit is rarely given to the people who took the photographs, and that has always seemed to me a great pity. Often, of course, the photographs (particularly those on postcards) are anonymous. Many, though, can be attributed, and I was anxious, whenever I could, to use attributable photographs in the book. Where possible, I was also keen to say a little about those photographers – about their careers, about the way they marketed themselves, and about the practical problems they faced when they took their cameras away from the studio and out into the field. Clearly the book was not the place for any lengthy discussion of these pioneers and their working lives, but some passing glimpses into their world seemed justified.

     

     

    A Lynn amateur photographer records the genteel custom of taking tea in the garden. (King's Lynn From Old Photographs, Amberley Publishing)

    To strengthen the books attention to those who created its images, I suggested – and Amberley agreed to – chapters devoted specifically to their studio and out-of-studio work. I’m not sure how often one can expect the publisher of an established and successful series to humour authorial whims, but it’s certainly a humouring for which I’m grateful, and I believe it has helped create a distinctive character for the book.

    The focus on photographers has been reinforced in two other ways. One of these is the use of images from a collection of glass negatives by an early Edwardian amateur photographer from the town. His name remains undiscovered, but his pictures allow us to meet his wife and family, show us a privileged way of life, and give an insight into the pleasures of what was, for those who could afford it, a golden age. Since his curiosity also took him beyond house and garden, his pictures make a telling contribution too, to the record of local places and events.

    The second boost comes in the form of words rather than pictures. From 1898 to 1900 James Speight, a young member of a Rugby family of photographers, worked as assistant to Lynn photographer Jasper Wright, and James kept a diary. Some of the entries deal with studio life, but his social life and events in the town are also reflected, and it is these latter aspects of the diary that have been used in the books captions to illuminate such diverse topics as modern traffic, fires as a spectator sport, public interest in the Boer War and the pleasures of dressing up.

     

    No name appears on this postcard of the Bentinck Dock, but the caption’s distinctive handwriting points firmly to ‘The Don’. (King's Lynn From Old Photographs, Amberley Publishing)

    In a variety of ways, therefore, I have been able to place some emphasis on King’s Lynn’s photographers, and I am indebted to Amberley for allowing me to indulge this enthusiasm. The final total of attributed images in the book is comfortably over 60 per cent. I’d like to have reached a higher percentage, but many of the illustrations derive from postcards, and a very high proportion of postcards was published anonymously. Indeed, some of the attributed postcards in this book have been rescued from anonymity only by captions in recognisable handwriting.

    The overall result is, I hope, a book that not only provides a snapshot of King’s Lynn in Victorian and Edwardian times (and sometimes a little later), but that also goes some way towards celebrating the men and women who have given us such a varied and vivid view of the town’s past.

    Robert Pols' new book King's Lynn From Old Photographs is available for purchase now.

  • A-Z of Derby by Maxwell Craven

    Derby, Lowell & Joseph Wright

    Derby has a long-established but little known connection with the American mill town of Lowell, Massachusetts, stemming from the Derby family of Francis Boott. He was a market gardener, florist and seedsman with premises in Derby Market Place and a house in Queen Street. He died suddenly in middle life leaving seven children, amongst whom was Kirk Boott (1756-1817). In January 1783, the artist Joseph Wright’s elder brother John decided to accompany his life-long friend Kirk Boott to America too seek their fortune. They proceeded to London, where they appeared to have enjoyed two months enjoying the high life, before Boott took a ship to Boston, but leaving Wright behind. He arrived on 13th June 1783 and shortly afterwards married Mary Love, daughter of the Captain of the ship Rosamund on which he had crossed the Atlantic.

    Why John Wright stayed behind is something of a mystery, but the explanation probably lies in those two months socialising in London. It would now seem that he had been offered a job, and indeed, he became a banker, rising to a partnership in the concern of Messrs. Smith, Wright and Gray, Lombard Street. It is well known that he stayed in touch with Boott, for the latter named his eldest son John Wright Boott (born 1788) after him. Like the Derby Lunar Society luminary John Whitehurst FRS, whom he undoubtedly knew well, John Wright later corresponded with Benjamin Franklin. Indeed, Whitehurst may have arranged an introduction when Wright decided to remain in London. It is possible too that he was able to provide the finance for his friend Boott.

    Joseph Wright: The Indian Widow… (1785). (c. Derby Museums Trust)

    According to Brad Parker, Kirk sent enthusiastic letters back to John Wright and his sister, Mrs. Horrocks, from the time of his arrival, most of which appear to be lost but their contents is to some extent reflected in his journal. It also seems likely that he also sent artefacts in exchange for saleable goods. That some of the earliest letters may have well included the material that inspired Joseph Wright to paint The Indian Widow, completed by 1785, carries more conviction than the suggestions floated by Benedict Nicolson, and concur with his asseveration that some of the detail of the picture – tomahawk, knife, head-dress – may have been painted from life.

    In Boston, Boott established an import/export business, which included introducing the US elite to Derby Porcelain, compass dials (of which the latter could well have been products of Whitehurst’s Derby works) and many other mainly local products. He was naturalized a US citizen in November 1787 becoming very wealthy, leaving at his death in 1817 five sons and four daughters

     The most important outcome of this migration lay in the career of Boott’s third son, Kirk (1790-1837). Whilst the eldest son initially returned to London to run that end of the family business, Kirk II  was sent to England to be educated, going to school in Ashbourne and then Rugby and making numerous visits to family in Derby. After returning to study for three years at Harvard, he went back to Britain to join the army, seeing action in the Peninsula campaign 1812-1814 before getting a peacetime posting at Sheffield Garrison as a Captain in the 85th Regiment.

    He visited Derby frequently at this time, staying at St. Helen’s House with William Strutt, the Wrights, and his aunt, Mrs. John Horrocks. In 1818 he married Anne, a daughter of Alderman Dr. Thomas Haden, physician and protégé of Erasmus Darwin, who had been mayor of Derby in 1811 and 1819. Dr. Haden had been painted by Joseph Wright (as Edwin) when a child (and, as an adult, by Reinagle in 1813), and had been the junior partner and successor of Joseph’s second brother Richard in his medical practice in St. Alkmund’s Church Yard. Kirk Boott himself visited the local textile mills in 1817–18 as the guest of their co-proprietor, Strutt. Once married, however, he resigned his commission and returned to America. Anne and her sister Sarah Haden had been painted as children in 1796 by Joseph Wright, but Mary, Mrs. Francis Boott (née Tunaley of Derby, wife of Kirk Boott II’s elder brother) later had it copied by Wright’s friend John Holland of Ford in 1803 and from that had an engraving made. In 1954 the Ford copy was with Mrs. Robert Haydock of Dedham, Mass. a descendant and her kinsman, David Richardson of Charles River Mass., apparently owned the original.

    From 1821 Boott was co-founder with Francis Cabot Lowell, Nathan Appleton and Patrick T. Jackson of a new settlement at East Chelmsford, of the confluence of the Merrimack and Pawtucket rivers in Massa­chusetts. This was to be a cotton-spinning city, and Boott’s role was to set it up and run it. He had hoped to call it Derby, but the sudden death of Lowell led to its being given his name instead. Lowell himself had been the scion of a patrician family of Boston merchants and he had also visited Britain and originated the idea of a model textile industry in New England to rival Samuel Slater’s Pawtucket Mills, set up a little before using ideas pirated from the Strutts at Belper. Boott, on the other hand, had the support of the Strutts in his enterprise, which was an important difference.

    Kirk Boott of Lowell, unknown artist. (Collections of the Lowell Historical Society, A-Z of Derby, Amberley Publishing)

    In 1824, Boott appointed Rev Theodore Edson as incumbent of his new settlement and personally designed St Anne’s Church, which he based on St. Michael’s, Derby, in which he had been married, whereas the dedication was in honour of his wife. It will come as no surprise that the Edgeworths (offspring and sister of the Lunar Society maverick Irish landowner Richard Lovel Edgeworth, who had extensive American property) kept William Strutt fully informed of Boott’s enter­prise, which appear to have continued to have Strutt’s blessing.

    Like Strutt, too, Boott was a competent architect, designing not only the church but workers’ housing, mills and municipal buildings, some of which survive. In the end, the City of Lowell was a great success.

    Francis, a son of the Boott’s eldest brother, who had returned to London, later married Kirk Boott’s daughter, Eliza Haden Boott, and their daughter Mary married her English cousin Charles Sydenham Haden, thus squaring the Derby circle yet again. One of the entrepreneurs attracted to the new city by Boott was George Washington Whistler, who set up a works to construct railway locomotives there in 1832. His son was the eminient London based impressionist painter James Abbott McNeil Whistler, later brother-in-law – and eventually, as with most of his friends, sworn enemy – of Boott’s nephew Sir Francis Seymour Haden, etcher and eminent surgeon. Boott himself was killed in a street accident in 1837, but his legacy – and posterity – continued.

    Exactly how much of Strutt’s own idealism and ingenuity went into Lowell and its extensive mills it is impossible to say, but the Derby intellectual revolution of the 18th century was a fundamental inspi­ration at Lowell and if it should prove to have been international in its consequences no one should be surprised. After all, had not Bostonian Benjamin Franklin been a friend of Darwin’s, a frequent guest of Whitehurst’s and eminence grise of the Lunar Society?

    Whilst Kirk Boott the elder imported and sold the products of William Duesbury’s Derby China factory, the two families seem to have remained in touch, for much later the under-rated William Duesbury III (invariably portrayed as a talentless ne’er-do-well by China enthusiasts) sold his interest in the china works in 1815 in order to set up a white paint factory at Bonsall using a new process of his own devising, omitting the toxic lead element. Indeed, Duesbury was a formidably talented chemist, but ahead of his time by about 150 years. The business at Bonsall failed, after which he went to America, following in the footsteps of his scallywag of an uncle, James Duesbury. Having known Boott from his Derby days, he settled in Lowell almost from its foundation as an industrial chemist working on dyes for the fabrics being manufactured there. He was a convinced Universalist also like Boott and William Strutt a competent architect, designing for his sect a fine chapel in Shattuck Street, Lowell. Once ensconced in the Massachusetts city he also married again – perhaps bigamously, for we do not know the fate of his first family in Derby. He duly fathered more children, before, tragically, doing away with himself for reasons that remain obscure, on 12 December 1845. Apparently, he was by no means the last migrant from Derby to settle at Lowell, the city’s textile mills attracting a significant proportion of their workforce from Derby and its region.

    Needless to say, this and many other well-known and not-so well-known aspects of Derby’s rich heritage are to be found in the pages of An A to Z of Derby.

    Maxwell Craven's new book A-Z of Derby is available for purchase now.

  • John Henry Spree's Nottinghamshire by Alan Spree

    This is a short insight into the story behind the publication of my book, John Henry Spree’s Nottinghamshire. I am sure that, in common with many others who have written similar books, I later found postcards that I would have liked to have included in the book so I have taken the opportunity to show some of these here.

    The Weir at Gunthorpe. (Author's collection, John Henry Spree's Nottinghamshire, Amberley Publishing)

    In the summer of 1997 I was in Nottingham and was browsing through books in W.H. Smith on Lister Gate when I came across a booklet in the ‘Yesterdays Nottinghamshire’ series entitled ‘Wollaton’ by David Ottewell. As I was born in that area I flicked through it and was surprised to find some postcards with the name J. Spree on them. After some family history research and talking to my father I gathered more information about John Henry Spree, my great grandfather, and started putting notes together along with any images I could find of his postcards. This research brought up childhood memories when my grandfather, Reginald Spree, who bought me my first camera and taught me how to take photos, and then develop and print them in his darkroom, which I now know was set up by his father John Henry Spree. I remember boxes of prints and negatives in a corner of that room which my grandfather referred to on a number of occasions, I now realise that they were the negatives and prints of images taken by my great grandfather. Unfortunately these were destroyed many years later by the American son of my late grandfather’s second wife. He travelled to the UK, without informing the Spree family of her death, to sell the property inherited from my grandfather and disposed of or destroyed items he did not want. As I was working in Germany at the time and my Mother, Father and sister lived in Australia our contact with my grandfather’s second wife had been limited but we were still disappointed that no apparent effort had been made to contact us.

    Parliament Street. (Author's collection, John Henry Spree's Nottinghamshire, Amberley Publishing)

    As time moved on and the internet became more readily available I collected more images and then began purchasing the original postcards. This collection I gradually put together as a family history booklet. I was surprised to find during my continuing search for Spree postcards that the Lenton Local History Society had also researched my great grandfather and published an article on him in their magazine the Lenton Times which was then followed up with an article in the Picture Postcard Magazine. Because of the interest generated I decided to try and publish my own book which resulted in the Amberley Publication John Henry Spree’s Nottinghamshire.

    School of Art Nottingham. (Author's collection, John Henry Spree's Nottinghamshire, Amberley Publishing)

    John Henry Spree published over 1000 postcards, initially in East Sussex and then in the East Midlands. My book contains 220 images taken by John Henry Spree in the period from 1915, when he moved to Nottingham from Hastings, until his death in 1932. I have captioned the images with information on the location and where applicable included historical text researched on the internet.

    I have also included sections on how I identified some Spree postcards which did not have his name on them, a short family history before and after his death and one on how he took, developed, printed and captioned his postcards.

    Lenton Church Crossing in 1884. (Author's collection, John Henry Spree's Nottinghamshire, Amberley Publishing)

    Putting the information into a publishable book was a long process with a steep learning curve as this was the first time that I had attempted to do that. Along the way I found some interesting facts and a few points that raised questions that will probably never be answered. At times I wondered if John Henry Spree occasionally travelled with another photographer or he sold or shared his images with others as I found that five images, either identical or obviously taken at the same time, had been duplicated by others and published as postcards. Also on one occasion I found that John Henry Spree used an old photograph of Lenton Church and Crossing, dated many years prior to his move to Nottingham, to make a postcard that he published, this incidentally is not included in the book as it was found after publication.

    The whole process has been very rewarding especially some of the very nice comments on Facebook group websites dedicated to Nottingham where many images of Spree postcards had already been uploaded by members. The administrators of two of these groups have also kindly allowed me to advertise my book on their websites.

    I am now well into the process of publishing two further books, one on Postcards of Hasting and St Leonards between 1900 and 1918, which includes some early postcards from John Henry Spree, and another on the complete range of British produced Military Dinky Toys.

    Alan Spree's new book John Henry Spree's Nottinghamshire is available for purchase now.

  • Greyfriars Graveyard by Charlotte Golledge

    Greyfriars Graveyard, east wall. (Greyfriars Graveyard, Amberley Publishing)

    Greyfriars Kirkyard has been described as being the leading burial ground in Scotland. Not only for its place in history but also for those whose final resting place is beneath its turf. These great figures who, although may have been forgotten over the passage of time lent their achievements and successes to the City they called home, contributing to the modern day Edinburgh lived in by a population of over 482,000 people. Within in its walls are forty-four ministers of both Old and New Greyfriars Kirks; forty-one Lord Provosts; thirty-three lawyers and senators of the College of Justice; twenty-six principles and professors of the University of Edinburgh, including two of its founders.  Not to mention numerous doctors, surgeons, solicitors, soldiers, sailors, authors, merchants, artists, architects to name but a few along with families of great fortune and prestige and the more ordinary folk. Collectively they all played their part no matter how big or small in the history of Edinburgh.

    However, it is not these great and ordinary citizens of yesteryear that captivate the visitors to Greyfriars. It is the fantastic monuments the more wealthy citizens left behind. For example, if someone was asked to identify the monument for James Borthwick, most people would not be able to clarify which one it was, especially as his name is no longer visible. With extra information that beside Greyfriars Bobby’s marker it is one of the most photographer mural monuments in Greyfriars, some people would be able to guess which one it is. However if the monument was described by its appearance as a near life size skeleton that appears to be dancing, then apart from a first time visitor who had entered the kirkyard by the lower original entrance then the monument would be instantly identified. This depiction of the King of Terrors instantly draws attention and sets the imagination running. In one hand he holds the book of Destiny and in the other a scythe. There are clues to James Borthwick’s profession in life with the surgical tools that can be seen at either side.

    Flodden Wall, Greyfriars. (Greyfriars Graveyard, Amberley Publishing)

    The majority of the symbolism falls into three main themes: mortality; immortality through resurrection and finally the means of salvation. The emblems of mortality are to remind us that death will come to us all. So the time spent in our earthly bodies should be spent well, living a good and moral life before judgement. The most recognisable of these emblems is the death head. There are hundreds throughout the graveyard in different guises: the full face; without a bottom jaw; facing front; partial profile; with cross bones below or behind the skull; the sextons’ tools in place of the bones and the winged skull. There is also the addition of the words Momento Mori which translates as ‘remember that you must die’. There are incorrect theories of what this symbol represents, the most popular being that they are for pirates or plague victims. In the late 1640s plagues began to disappear from the Scottish capital and there are certainly no known pirates buried it its grounds!

    One possible explanation for the use of the skull and cross bones stems from those on medieval monuments when during the times of the crusades, knights or persons of note who died in distant lands and the need for the body to be transported home. Mos Tentonicus was a funerary process that stripped the flesh from the bones that entailed the more hygienic means to transport the bones for proper burial once home. While the skull is pretty self-explanatory the bones being most likely the sword arm that was fighting for God.

    Some symbols of the freemasons. (Greyfriars Graveyard, Amberley Publishing)

    The emblems of immortality are there to remind us of the resurrection and the immortal life of the soul. Again the most numerous of these emblems shows the head. In this instance a head coupled with wings, known as the winged soul. It can be used as a main feature or as multiple decorations along the upper detail of a mural monument, such as can be seen on the monuments along the east wall. The winged soul is commonly depicted as a face, often taking the form of a cherub or angels whose gender is not identified, with feathered wings like that of a bird. This represents the deceased person’s soul leaving the body at death and ascending, the body will then rise and join it on the day of judgement.

    The third theme is that of the moral emblems, these are usually the personification of the moral messages they represent. The use of female forms of the classical Greek or Roman world are typical of the early seventeenth century. These include the seven virtues of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, Temperance, Faith, Hope and Charity. These along with other virtues are there to remind us of how to live a good life.

    Other symbolism includes animals, plants and flowers and, though few in number in Greyfriars, the emblems of trade. All of these are covered in detail in Greyfriars Graveyard and enables the reader to gain the skills to read the monuments and depict what that person, or their family, is trying to say.  Giving clues to the character of the deceased and how they lived their own lives. These skills can be used not only in Greyfriars but other Scottish graveyards and while the carvings may differ in accuracy, depending on the skill of the mason, the meanings are nearly always the same. As George Elliot said ‘Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them’.

    Charlotte Golledge's new book Greyfriars Graveyard is available for purchase now.

  • Coventry Pubs by Fred Luckett

    The Woolpack in Spon Street is an early photo from the 1860's, the pub has since been demolished. (Author's collection)

    Drinking in an old English town

    The history of the alcohol trade in Coventry

    Whilst beer, along with agriculture, was being created in the Middle East around 12,000 years ago, Coventry remained a patch of virgin forest in the Arden County until well into the Cristian era. Mercia was settled by Anglo-Saxons from the sixth century onwards, but Coventry itself is thought to have originated with the founding of an abbey under Saint Osburgh in the tenth century. This was destroyed by Cnut's forces in 1016, to be followed by the first definite event in Coventry, the founding of the priory of St Mary by Leofric and Godiva in 1043.

    In Anglo-Saxon society men had the roles that required upper body strength, such as field work and animal husbandry, and women were the head of the domestic household. Brewing was a household pursuit so women were the brewers. These brewers were termed 'alewives' and would have been members of families wealthy enough to have a surplus of grain and hence be able to brew ale over and above that needed for domestic requirements. Such supplies of ale would have been intermittent and hence a temporary ale stake was used to indicate that ale was for sale, rather than a permanent sign.

    The role of the alewife was gradually challenged by the monastic brewery and Coventry always had a plentiful supply of monasteries, with large permanent populations of monks and lay brothers needing a regular and dependable supply of ale.

     

    The Old Windmill in Spon Street, reputedly Coventry's oldest pub. (Author's collection)

    The first permanent retail outlet we learn of in Coventry was the White Cellar, a tavern, in c.1230. A tavern was a premises that sold wine, which would have been a specialist, high-value trade at that time. These early premises were followed by inns and other taverns as travel increased throughout the area.

    Once monastic brewing ceased in Coventry with the Reformation, commercial brewing expanded to supply the market and we begin to see brewing dynasties in Coventry such as the King, Ash and Rawson families, whilst the role of the alewife disappeared, although women were never excluded from brewing. In the eighteenth century we have Mrs. Cave King in Coventry, whilst in the West Midlands in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries we have Julia Hanson, Sarah Hughes, Doris Pardoe, and on to modern-day female brewers. Permanent public houses were created to sell to the urban population no longer able to enjoy monastic, guild or even private hospitality.

     

    Jack Tatlow is drawing beer at the Rainbow in Allesley the 1930's. (Author's collection)

    At this time the regulation of the alcohol trade was in the hands of the corporation. Later the role was given to the magistrates, until very recently when it was given back to the city council. Licensing records begin in 1745, although at this time it is the person who is licensed, there is no mention of the premises. So, when a licensee moved house, his sign was likely to move with him. For example, the Crown in Bayley Lane closed in 1788 when the licensee, Charles Hunt, moved to White Friars Lane. The Crown in White Friars Lane opened immediately. From the mid-eighteenth century to the Second World War the number of public houses wavered between 200 and 250, which means that, with a growing population the ratio of pubs to people has constantly declined.

    During the early nineteenth century the spread of the tied house system, and the growth of large brewers, particularly in the home counties, caused concern over the reduction in competition. The growth in spirit drinking likewise was a problem. So, in 1830 the Beerhouse Act was passed allowing anyone to sell beer on the payment of a 2 guinea fee to the excise. A huge number of beerhouses sprang up, leading to an inevitable reaction. This, allied to the influence of the temperance movement and declining demand, lead to a reduction in the numbers of public houses, taverns, and inns in the city centre. This trend was accelerated by the widespread destruction of the city centre during the blitz, with many licenses moved out to the new suburbs.

    In more recent years many suburban pubs have closed, leading to licences being concentrated around entertainment or local centres.

    Fred Luckett's new book Coventry Pubs is available for purchase now.

  • Paranormal London by Gilly Pickup

    Are you interested in supernatural happenings? If you’re like me and enjoy delving into a good ghost story, then read on…

    The Viaduct Tavern, Newgate Street, ECI. Ghostly orbs in the lounger bar or simply a trick of the light? (Paranormal London, Amberley Publishing)

    My new book, Paranormal London, brims over with true tales of eerie encounters, some of which are terrifying enough to the capture the imagination of even the most hardened sceptic. After all there are more uncanny happenings in this city than you can shake a spook at, most of which are guaranteed to make you look at the London you are familiar with, either personally or through written accounts, in a totally different way.

    Let’s face it. Chances of bumping into an apparition in London are high. In fact, this, the world’s greatest city, (well, I think so), simply swirls with spirits. It has to be said that even though these phantoms lack a physical body they certainly don’t lack imagination. So while it’s to be expected that they strut their stuff in houses old and new, they also haunt hospitals, pubs, alleyways, Underground stations and even a bed. Spooky theatres? Yes, of course!  Ghostly hotels? Absolutely. A haunted bank? That too.

     

    Read my book – if you dare - to find out:

    Who was the headless phantom exorcised from the bank vaults?

    Why did a theatre prop cause bone chilling fear?

    Where have two people have been frightened to death – literally?

    Which Royal Park has a tree which harbours a fearsome spirit?

    Which museum’s poltergeist activity includes lots of floating orbs and disembodied voices which have been captured on tape?

    The Heath, where you may meet a phantom woman or a ghostly horseman. (Paranormal London, Amberley Publishing)

    Stories in Paranormal London take the reader on a spooktacular journey that covers Hampstead Heath, an ancient London park first documented in 986 when Ethelred the Unready granted one of his servants ‘five hides of land at Hemstede.’ When it comes to paranormal activity, this is a busy place. Compact, frenetic, once-sleazy Soho, oozing trendy bars, smart restaurants and encompassing dynamic, bustling, colourful Chinatown also has its otherworldly side – no wonder when you consider part of the area stands over a plague pit. Aristocratic, elegant Mayfair, named after the annual spring festival held until the 1730s, provides us with tales from one of London’s spectacularly eerie haunted pubs as well as the ongoing mystery of what is surely the capital’s most haunted house. St James, which starts at Piccadilly and includes Green Park, has a couple of seriously scary phantoms that you wouldn’t want to meet, while intellectual Bloomsbury, home of the British Library and Senate House offers a rather more unusual type of paranormal activity….

    The many theatres in Covent Garden, Piccadilly, Leicester Square, Shaftesbury Avenue and Charing Cross are simply awash with mysterious beings and strange goings-on. Marylebone, owned in the 12th century by a brotherhood of warrior monks called the Knights Templar, has its phantoms too including that of a famous actress, while once-bohemian Fitzrovia which lies to the north east of Oxford Circus is where to find a plethora of hospital ghosts. Familiar names all, that trip off the tongue whether you are a local, a visitor, or someone who knows London only from films and books.

    Now all you have to do is get a copy of Paranormal London, sit down, make yourself comfortable and savour these nerve-jangling tales. Make sure you have locked your windows and doors first though. It is as well to remember the London dead far outnumber the living.....

    P.S. Have you ever had an experience that wasn't - shall we say - quite of this world?  Do let me know, if so. www.gillypickup.co.uk

    Gilly Pickup's new book Paranormal London is available for purchase now.

  • Moreton-in-Marsh Through Time by Mark Turner

    When arriving at the North Cotswolds town of Moreton-in-Marsh as a fresh-faced young policeman in 1981 thoughts of producing a pictorial history of the place were probably far from my mind. Earlier, however, as a youngster raised in the Welsh border town of Monmouth, I had long been fascinated by local history, so it’s perhaps unsurprising that I soon found myself thinking as much about Moreton’s historical development as its potential as a place of criminal activity. Fortunately, Moreton-in-Marsh is a low-crime area and I was able to balance the requirements of my job with my enthusiasm for local history!

    Drury's Butcher's Shop, High Street. (Moreton-in-Marsh Through Time, Amberley Publishing)

    I quickly discovered that relatively little had been written about the place. A few pamphlets and essays had been compiled, certainly, but these were all well out of date, long since out of print, and difficult to obtain. Luckily, an enthusiastic local butcher had collected a few hundred old postcards of Moreton, although these were at that time being stored in the cellar of a farmhouse on the edge of town. I accessed these pictures, copied and indexed them and used them as the basis of a slide show that I then began presenting to local groups and societies. Additionally, when ‘on the beat’ in the town, I often found myself chatting with senior citizens and elderly residents – the conversations invariably turning to memories and photographs of days past. Many of these people kindly loaned or gave me old photographs of Moreton and over some years I amassed an unsurpassed local collection of historic images. To date, this collection amounts to some 1,200 old photographs. The butcher (long-deceased) would no doubt be proud!

    US Tanks, High Street Service Road. (Moreton-in-Marsh Through Time, Amberley Publishing)

    Inevitably, many of the photographs are of cricket and football teams, school pupils and local committees or social gatherings. Valuable though these pictures are, they do not really illustrate the town’s physical appearance. Luckily, there are numerous photographs, too, of Moreton’s streets and buildings and in many cases long-forgotten shops and business premises are shown in their heyday. I have also acquired rare and nostalgic photographs of the local railway station in the steam locomotive era, as well as nineteenth-century images of long-vanished industrial premises, such as Moreton’s rope works and former iron foundry. Particularly unusual are photographs – surreptitiously snapped by a local schoolgirl – of American tanks gathered in the High Street awaiting embarkation to France for D-Day.

    As well as giving occasional presentations of my historic pictures, I have, over the years, gone on to produce a number of books about Gloucestershire, and the Cotswolds in particular. Moreton-in-Marsh is a small town, however, and it seemed likely that my photographic collection would merely remain the basis for talks to local societies. And then I became aware of Amberley’s ‘Through Time’ series of publications and the potential at last for some of my photographs to reach a wider audience. I put forward a proposal, which was positively received, and Moreton-in-Marsh Through Time is the end result. The book, which is a beautifully-presented collection of evocative images, has been greeted with enthusiasm and is already selling well. It is likely to be of interest to local residents and visitors alike and, when walking around the town, people will find it a particularly handy guide to Moreton’s ever-changing streets and buildings. Why not get a copy and come and visit this lovely town for yourself?

    Mark Turner's new book Moreton-in-Marsh Through Time is available for purchase now.

  • Secret Dumfries by Mary Smith

    When burials in churches were banned in Scotland.

    Plaque on the site of the monastery. (Secret Dumfries, Amberley Publishing)

    One of my favourite parts of Secret Dumfries was a quote from Alf Truckell’s preface to the 1928 edition of McDowall’s History of Dumfries. He gave a colourful and somewhat startling account of events in the year 1607, taken from the town’s Privy Council records: ‘A man tries to strangle a boy with a garter and throws him in the Mill Dam in March: the King’s messenger comes through the town in May, to find the inhabitants dressed in green and armed for the May Play: a couple of Baillie’s sons take up the cry “a Lorebourne”, their fathers repeat it: shots are fired and horses wounded: the Messenger and his men flee: church burials have been outlawed some years before, a family break open the church door with tree-trunks and bury a dead relative within, whereupon another family hurry home, grab a corpse, and bury it, and a third family dig up an uncle and are about to bury him when the Law finally turns up…’

    I was especially intrigued by the references to church burials and how determined people were to defy the law and bury their relatives within the church itself. I had no time to do further research into when and why burials inside churches became illegal.

    I read the extract at the launch of Secret Dumfries and was delighted when someone emailed me a part of an article from a magazine which said The General Assembly of the Church of Scotland outlawed church burials, which it deemed idolatrous, in 1576. Anyone breaking the new rule could be suspended from the church until they repented publicly (did they have to remove the body?) and minsters who allowed the practice would also be suspended.

    St Mary's Church. (Secret Dumfries, Amberley Publishing)

    There were other good reasons for discontinuing the burial of bodies within the church. Before the Reformation wealthy and influential people such as the lairds (landed estate owners) were buried inside the church – sometimes beneath the family pew. This reduced the space available for the congregation. Also, bodies were not always interred very deeply and the smell of decomposition would have been unpleasant to say the least. Parishioners sometimes brought their dogs to church and dogs like nothing better than to dig up bones.

    I almost included a paragraph in Secret Dumfries saying this practice of sometimes shallow interment inside churches gave rise to the expression ‘stinking rich’. I’m so glad my word count was at its limit and I didn’t because, according to the website https://www.phrases.org.uk, apparently the expression only came into use in the twentieth century.

    The 1576 act was repeated in 1588, 1631 and in 1643, which is probably a good indication of people’s resistance to it. One rather extreme, and unpleasant, example occurred in 1607 in Durisdeer, near Dumfries. Adam Menzies, laird of Enoch had buried his young son in his family’s aisle of the kirk. Sir James Douglas, a staunch Presbyterian, of Drumlanrig had servants dig up the child’s body and rebury it in a shallow grave away from the church. Adam Menzies and his wife, who had just had another child, were understandably very upset. Despite being attacked by the minister, he reburied his son’s body in the kirk and appealed to the Privy Council. Although he was breaking the law regarding burials inside a church, the Privy Council took his side, allowing his child to remain in the family’s burial aisle.

    As for the family who used tree trunks to break down the door in the Dumfries church and set off a chain reaction as quoted at the start of this article, I was very pleased to learn his identity. According to Maureen M. Meikle in her book, The Scottish People 1490-1625, it was a John Irving who wanted to bury his mother.

    Mary Smith and Keith Kirk's new book Secret Dumfries is available for purchase now.

  • Jarrow at Work by Paul Perry

    People and Industries Through the Years

    Jarrow A.F.C. (Jarrow at Work, Amberley Publishing)

    There was a time when there was not a town called Jarrow, fields streams and riverbanks were all that existed. Eventually settlements were raised in the area around the banks of the River Don. Without doubt, the most memorable of the early settlements was an order of Benedictine Monks at the monastery at Donmouth as Jarrow was referred to in the 6th century. This was home to the town’s most celebrated resident the Venerable Bede: monk. Scholar, historian and very probably one of the most remarkable men this country has ever produced, who was responsible for writing the oft referred to Northumbrian Chronicles, one of the few learned works to survive from those dark days in the mists of time. Jarrow at this time was a centre of learning, a beacon of light in an otherwise dark age.

    Railway Station Grant Street. (Jarrow at Work, Amberley Publishing)

    If all that Jarrow had to offer history was a monk and a book it would still be worthy of note and recognition, but the town had so much more to give. The proximity of mineral resources and water borne transportation gave rise to the period of industrialisation which dominated the life and prosperity of the town from the eighteenth century to recent times. The shipyards, steelworks, coal mines, chemical plants and its connection with the fuel industry, have all in turn contributed towards the growth, wealth and success of the town.

    Amos Butcher Shop, Albert Road. (Jarrow at Work, Amberley Publishing)

    When talking of Jarrow, it is not always possible to talk of light and life. No work which ever purports in any way to tell the story of the town can ignore and portray the hardship and privation suffered by its people during the interwar years of the great depression. Subject to a greater rate of unemployment than any other borough in the land, Jarrow came to epitomise the desperate state of affairs endured by so much of industrial Britain during that period.

    Ferry Street. (Jarrow at Work, Amberley Publishing)

    Nothing, depression and wars included, lasts forever, and the post war years saw a welcome and marked improvement in the well-being of the town and its people. This improvement took many forms: new schools, public houses, recreational facilities, a state of the art shopping complex, but most importantly the rehousing of thousands of residents to Jarrow’s own garden suburb, Primrose.

    For many years, the Borough of Jarrow had been subject to a programme of ongoing changes and refurbishment, with the construction of a network of ring roads skirting the town, removed the burden of pollution from industrial and constant heavy traffic from the town centre. Together with the introduction of the ‘Clean Air Act’ of 1955, the town was once again looking forward to a brighter future. The working base of the town has undergone equally radical alteration. None of the former lucrative heavy industries of old exist. Today many would consider Jarrow as a dormitory town. In strict legal terms, the Borough of Jarrow no longer exists, amalgamated in 1974 with the much larger borough of South Tyneside. Instead, many would consider Jarrow a dormitory town, home to the office and retail personnel of the commercial enterprises of the surrounding area.

    Station Hotel Ellison Street. (Jarrow at Work, Amberley Publishing)

    As the 21st century dawned, there was little or no evidence of any industrial activity in Jarrow, as very few relics of the town survive any more. The shipyards and rolling mills have been replaced with industrial business parks. Although these parks provide employment in the town and contribute heavily towards its ongoing economy, they seem somewhat soulless. No longer do we build ships or even repair them, long gone are the slipways and dry docks which were once the throbbing heart of the town.

    Monkton terrace. (Jarrow at Work, Amberley Publishing)

    We must be eternally grateful to the amateur historians of the last two centuries who trawled the streets and shipyards with their cameras taking photographs for future generations to enjoy. Through their eyes, they left us a legacy of images of times past that we must treasure and preserve. Without these images, the history and heritage of the town would be almost impossible to piece together. The history of Jarrow is a vital link with the past, not only for ourselves, but more importantly for future generations. Through the days of triumph and tragedy, the outstanding feature of Jarrow has been its people. Famous writers, singers, local characters and villains have grown up in the town, but it is the ordinary Jarovian possessing a rare mixture of honesty, decency and good humour that has given the town its unique personality. In return all are marked forever by the town and have a genuine affection for it and proud to be called Jarra’ lads and lasses.

    Paul Perry's new book Jarrow at Work is available for purchase now.

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