"THANK YE, MY BOYS!," EXETER, 1841.

On Tuesday 26th January 1841, while the Mayor of Exeter and the other magistrates were dealing with the larcenies of the week at the Guildhall, the two constables on duty in the portico had occasion to disturb His Worshipful and the lesser worshipfuls as reported by The Western Times. (30th January 1841):

"JAMES JONES, a one-legged man, was here hurried into the Magistrates' room by Ginham and Lascelles, charged with creating a disturbance at the door, and with threatening to 'pare' the latter officer.

"His conduct was excessively impertinant before the magistrates, and he was ordered to find two sureties in £10., to keep the peace.

"On being taken away, in default of bail, he triumphantly shouted aloud,  'Thank ye, my boys, this is all I wanted - I only wished for grub and lodging without cost.'"

-

The constables in Exeter were so few and so well-known to the readers of The Times that this report (and many others) simply uses their surnames.

James Jones' cunning plan was hardly original.  Many poor men must have preferred to seek prison rather than suffer cold and hunger on the winter streets but not many had so much fun in the process of being committed as he, apparently, did.   Nor were others so  excessively impertinent and upbeat as to call the officers of the court 'my boys'.  James must have been quite a character.   I wish we knew more about him.  The granite columns must have quivered! 

To pare someone is new to me.  It sounds rather nasty - death by a thousand cuts?

 

A CHURLISH PRIEST, EXETER, 1841.

 William, Webber, a smith in the employ of Mr. W.C. Bodley, Bonhay, wrote to The Western Times  (9th January 1841) this letter:

"Sir, - Having a child lying dead,  I applied to the Rev. Mr. Atkinson,  Rector of St. Edmund's parish for its interment.   I waited upon him on the Wednesday, intending to have my child buried on the following day,  and he directed me to come again in the evening at half-past seven,

I did so, and his order then was , I were to be in the yard at 1 o'clock the following day.  I told him I could not, as I had some friends in the country coming to the funeral.  To this he answered by asking what had I to do with the appointment of the funeral - and added that he would not be in the yard at any time else.

I sent to him again the next morning, and his answer was just the same.  I was then obliged to apply to Mr. Wood, a Dissenting Minister, who buried my child, after having had another grave dug.

Knowing you to be a working man's friend, I take the liberty of writing to you the above, and trust you will be so kind as to insert it in your paper, which will always be remembered by your very grateful and humble servant,

WM. WEBBER

-

It was not uncommon for poor parents to have trouble with Anglican parsons when it came to burying their dead children and without a parson a child could not be buried.  Often Dissenters came to the rescue bur not always.  A last resort was the Quakers.

The editor of The Times subscribed this letter with the comment:  "The act of this priest, if perfectly lawful, was at the same time, perfectly churlish."

"Having a child lying dead." reads like the first line of a poem.  Walt Whitman?

Though a working man,  William Webber wrote a fair hand.  Something, I guess, that came as a surprise to the Rev. Mr. Atkinson.  The March of Mind was changing the game.

SALLY GRIBBLE, EXETER, 1841.

 Western Times of 2nd January 1841 reported at length the inquest following the death of a fortune teller called Sarah Gribble who had died in her bed in the two-room tenement she occupied in a back court in St. Mary Arches Street the week before.    The report includes this description of her:

"Clothes or linen upon her person, she had none - if we except an old pair of stays which she wore next her skin and a piece of coarse fustian cloth which was tied round her waist.  A dirty brown handkerchief was thrown over her shoulders, and tied in a knot upon her breast, and her head was covered with a cap, which she had never been known to change during the time she had resided in the house.  She wore neither shoes nor stockings, but, dressed as above described, used to sit continually in her bed, remaining constantly in the same position, with...."her nose and knees together."

"In her bedplace were found, after her death, a great quantity of articles of food, which appeared to have accumulated for some time, and which there is much reason to fear had been purloined by servant girls, who probably found it more convenient to satisfy their curiosity at their masters' expense rather than their own.  There were heaped together, in one heterogeneous mass, potatoes, turnips, and vegetables of all kinds, fruit, butter, bacon, dripping and a variety of articles of similar description, which the deceased was never know to have purchased, and the possession of which can only be accounted for in the way in which we have described.  A half pound of butter was found under her thigh immediately after her death and the other provisions were directly at her feet.

".....And yet, wretched as was her abode, Sally Gribble had numerous visitors, many from among the more respectable classes of society, and on a market day especially, her ante-room was thronged with customers, anxious to obtain admittance.  She was the daughter of a woman who was famous as a fortune teller in her day, and had never been married, and she delivered her predictions with an air of authority, which no doubt gave them all the greater weight.  Her manner was anything but conciliatory; and when displeased or unreasonable interrupted, she would order the intruder away, with the most horrible imprecations.

"She was always pretending the greatest poverty, although....a large quantity of money  was found in her apartment, and the necessaries of life were evidently supplied to her in abundance."

-

Sometimes Victorian Exeter seems not to have moved far from the Middle Ages.  The description of this old witch whose imprecations could be most horrible sitting on half a pound of butter in her bed with her naked legs drawn up to her chin  and telling fortunes to silly servant girls and matrons who should have known better could be Geoffrey Chaucer's.

It's a pity we are losing the fun of the old pet names.  I had forgotten that Sarahs were Sallys.

.

A MOURNFUL PROCESSION, EXETER, 1840.

 "On Wednesday last, the solemn and imposing spectacle of a military funeral took place in this city, the late Serjeant Major of the 14th Light Dragoons having been interred with full military honours:

"The mournful procession  walked from the Cavalry Barracks up Longbrook -street, through the High and Fore-streets, through North-street, unto St, David's church-yard.

"The charger of the deceased followed the corpse, appropriately caparisoned, and the remainer of the troop of the the regiment, together with the depot of the 75th foot, accompanied by the officers, attended.  The band preceded, and played the Dead March in Saul, through the city."

-

What a treat was this for the hat-doffing burghers of Exeter and their tender-hearted wives and daughters!:  The dragoons, on foot for once, in their gorgeous uniform, with steps solemn, mournful and slow, marching through the town looking imposing,  the infanteers slow-marching (better!) behind, the Serjeant Major's coffin, (on a gun-carriage?) the caparisoned charger,no doubt looking mournful, all to the the music of Handel echoing throughout Exeter.

The little boys, OK, some little girls too, must have loved the drama of it and followed the procession all the way to St, Davids .  They went home with 'Saul' ringing in their ears.

Nowadays the profile of the military in Exeter is so low that a snake could crawl under it.  For the last two years the City has scraped together only a handful of regular servicemen in uniform to attend the Northernhay memorial-service (and that in the shadow of vulgar Winter Wonderland construction.)

Sic transit gloria mundi.

Source: The Exeter and Plymouth Gazette,  26th December, 1840. 

THE BRIG 'HOWARD'', TEIGNMOUTH, 1840.

On Monday the seventh of December, 1840, the brig, Howard, of Exeter,  with a cargo of timber from Miramichi,  anchored off Teignmouth, took on a pilot and waited for the night tide.   But a gale blew up and she parted from her anchors and came on shore on the beach near the public baths:

"At about half past 12  the inhabitants were roused by the report of a cannon, which proved to be Captain Manby's apparatus, that had been brought to the spot by Lieutenant O'Reilly of the coast guard, who, with his men, used every exertion to convey a line to the ill fated ship, which was now labouring very much and her crew, and the pilot, thirteen hands, were seen imploring for relief.  

"After several attempts a shot from the apparatus took a line across the ship, by which the crew hauled a hawser on board from the shore....The pilot with great difficulty and danger reached the shore much exhausted; another man that followed him met a watery grave, the rope having broken.

"At this juncture,  Mr. William Warren with great promptitude constructed a grummet or sort of rope cradle. which was hauled on board, and by which nine more of the crew were safely landed....Two men were still missing, but as they did not make their appearance it was thought they were lost.  It was now half-past five a.m., Tuesday morning, and all having been done that human aid could accomplish the vessel was left to her fate.

"The gale now moderated and she held together, and on the falling of the tide the two misssing men were discovered on board safe.  Thus twelve of the thirteen were providentally saved."

-

Captain George William Manby was still alive in 1840.  He died in 1854.  Between 1808,  the first such rescue, and 1842 over 1000 lives had been saved by his mortars (rockets came later).  

A gallant rescue effort but the two deckhands who went below and spent the night in their bunks (?) rather took the gilt off the gingerbread.   Providence gets it wrong sometimes! 

Mr. William Warren's grummet I take to be an improvised lifebuoy woven on the spot from rope and then hauled ashore ( through the waves ?)

Source: The Exeter and Plymouth Gazette, 12th December, 1840.

PROVIDENTIAL HERRING, THE EXE ESTUARY, 1840.

"THE HERRING FISHERY IN THE ESTUARY has continued during the past week and we are told that it is calculated that 1000 tons have been taken during the month of November.

"The Oyster fishery has been a complete failure, but Providence has bountifully supplied the fishermen of the district with a more profitable substitute.

Notwithstanding the plenty, the fishing has been carried on every day, though Lord Devon's water bailiff, Lieut. Cornick. R.N. has warned the Exmouth portion of the fishermen, to desist from Sunday fishing, but the Starcross and Topsham people have had a perfect immunity, or if any notice has been taken of their working the Sunday, they have not attended to it: many hands were out last Sunday.

The herrings have been sold at two shillings a thousand. They are small but exceedingly well flavoured and great store has been laid up, by the working classes, for the winter."

-

A dried herring with a little bread, black or white, was a pretty standard winter meal for the working classes on the estuary.

I would think that Lieut. Cornick. R.N. had his work cut out trying to stop Sunday fishing when the herring were running up and down the estuary (presumably) in their thousands.

Ah yes, this must be that same Providence that sees to it that the holly has lots of berries before a hard winter so that the birds won't starve."

Source:  The Western Times, 5th December, 1840.

A STURDY VAGABOND, EXETER, 1840.

 "William Stevens was brought up before the bench, charged with an act of vagrancy.  He was a stout able bodied person, with a dark shock head and some five or six weeks beard.   He had a small bundle of brimstone matches under his arm, and a few shreds of shirt under his waistcoat but it sadly wanted mending, as it did not extend much below his throat, and the public , if so minded, had a full opportunity of judging the colour of his skin by actual inspection - for with the exception of an old waistcoat nothing covered the upper part of the matchman, so that his shirt wanted about as extensive a repair as Paddy's knife, which merely required a new blade and a new handle to make it complete.

"His trousers....with the repair of a leg up one side, and a leg down the other, some addition to the seat, and a few repairs in the front would still have been passable. He had shoes on - slashed and cut through to give air to his feet, and also to show that he had no stockings - his whole garb and garbage being so contrived as to give the appearance of great destitution and consequent suffering, which contrasted strongly with his able well coditioned frame which was equally significant of the fine feeding of cadger's hall....

"He was an incorrigible vagrant and had been sent home to his parish - some distance off - by Topsham at an expence of sixteen pounds. 

"Having nothing to say for himself save that he mumbled out that he could get no work, and had only a few matches.  He was sentenced to fourteen days imprisonment and hard labour.

"The Superintendent of Police said that much mischief was done by the 'relief' which cadgers were certain of finding in this city, having a billet always prepared for them on application to any of the Relief Society, whose humanity was often imposed upon by sturdy vagabonds of this class"  

*

William Stevens must have been one of the last of brimstone matchsellers.  Such matches were on the way out in 1840.   He carried a few sticks dipped in brimstone (sukphur) which could  only be used in conjunction with flint and steel to create a flame.  He probably carried them only to escape a charge of vagrancy but the Exeter magistrates were having none of that. 

No-one in Exeter, certainly not newspaper reporters, went around wearing T shirts with the logo 'BE KIND!' in those days.  

Source: The Western Times,  17th October 1840.

A MIRACULOUS DRAUGHT, TORQUAY, 1840.

 This blog seldom strays so far from Exeter, but Mr. J Hammick's extraordinary take of herrings at daybreak, Tuesday 10th September 1840 somewhat above Maidencombe, about a quarter of a mile off the shore, as reported by a correspondent to The Western Times  of 19th September, 1840 seems to me the fisherman's tale to beat all fishermen's tales, not excluding that of Saint Luke:

"....after drawing the sean near the shore, the body of herrings now enclosed proved so dense that all further exertions were abortive; in consequence of which the sean was immediatley laced up beyond the coarse yarn, it being a mackerel sean, and from this time until Sunday the fish were continually with a tuck net drawn out of the sean, which was now moored with four anchors to keep the sean from strapping or falling together.

The weather being particularly fine, parties were formed from all the neighbouring watering places to visit the scene of slaughter and as many as 20 boats were present at a time, filled with all the fashion of the neighbourhood, standing astonished at the immense body of fish before them, whilst the sides of the sean presented a mass of fish resembling a wall 20 to 25 feet deep.

There was at least 100 boats load of fish taken, besides a quantity of fish that were taken in sloops to Portsmouth, Weymouth and Guernsey, and on Sunday boats from all parts of the coast were obliged to return unladen, thus six days were spent in emptying and taking up the sean, besides the spoiling of from 10 to 20 boat loads of fish.

The whole of the fish was sold, and made about £500, at the low price of 3s. per thousand, thus well paying the men and proprietors for their exertions, and rendering a great public benefit to the country at large. The above sean belonged to Messrs Joan and Thomas Hammick, William Rossiter, &Knightons, of Torquay as proprietors."

There seems to me to be a worthy touch of national sentiment implied by this correspondent's spelling of seine.

Alas!  The great shoals of herring come no more to Maidencombe.