MR TUCKER'S LIFE PRESERVER, EXETER, 1842.

"Mr. Tucker was proceeding, late at night, along the bottom of Paris-street,  when a female came up to him, and said,  'My dear, are you good natured?'   He declined to answer her at first, and to a second interrogation to the same effect, merely replied that his many years attendance on the poor as a poor doctor, had sufficiently established his reputation for good nature.

"Two fellows then walked up, and one exclaimed, 'How's Mr. Barnes?'   Mr. Tucker made no reply.  The other then put the same question.  Mr. Tucker still said nothing.  One of the desperadoes then put his hand to his collar.   Mr. T. immediately made a blow at him with his life preserver.  This desperate hit took effect in the mouth of the villain.  He immediately staggered off,  his teeth rattling on the pavement like a small shower of hail stones.  Mr Tucker had the satisfaction of seeing that if he did not stop the robber, he succeeded in stopping his teeth.  This fellow was no sooner struck, than the worthy doctor swung the life preserver - since called a Tucker - round with a vengeful aim, and with so much effect,  that the second rascal took to his heels with what the Gazette calls 'the alacrity of a policeman'

"The particulars of this attack and discomfiture we derive from the police at the Station House, where they were communicated by the worthy doctor himself.  But the incident of the teeth is from a popular version of the affair - Mr. Tucker being no braggadocio, does not vaunt of his own prowess."

*

A Victorian life-preserver was a mini mace, a short rattan handle and an articulated, heavy, often leaded, striking ball.   The force was in the swinging, a skill which Mr. Tucker had clearly mastered. 

"My dear, are you good natured?"  sounds to me to have been a meme of the 'ladies of the town', rather more subtle than the 'wanna good time, love?'  which once echoed from Soho doorways. 

Mr. Barnes, another doctor, had been beaten and robbed by this same trio on the Barnfield road that same evening.

It would have been fun if The Times had established its neonism,  never go without your tucker &c., but it seems it was not to be.

'Alacrity of a policeman'  these days could only be heavy sarcasm.

A poor doctor was not necessarily poor, just as a diabetic nurse is not necessarily diabetic.  It is unlike the Victorans to use a linguistic shortcut that could lead to confusion.  Like Winston Churchill, let us in general prefer not to use hyphens but they would help here.

Braggadocio/braggadochio is, surprisingly, a word invented by Spenser for The Faerie Queen,  at least so says my Encyclpaedic Dictionary, 1895.

Source: The Western Times,  20 August, 1842.

A DAWLISH BOATMAN'S EVIDENCE, EXETER, 1842

"I am a boatman in the coast guard service;  on the night of the 23rd April I was on duty;  it was my duty to meet the officer to communicate with him at Pocombe Lane at one in the morning; about that time I was proceeding there, and had to go into the lane between Teignmouth and Dawlish, when I came near Mr. Phillott's house, I met about ten men;  I haled them, 'who comes here?'  It is our duty to hail people when we meet at that time.....George Smith, one of them, said d--- your eyes what is that to you;  he then struck me a blow with a stick and knocked my hat off;  I had my cutlas in my hand, raised it to fend off the blow, and the scabbard flew off;  I made a cut at him and he fended it off with a stick - which flew out of his hand.  The whole of the party surrounded me.  I told them to keep off me and let me alone, or by God, I would cut some of their heads off.  William Hole then struck me a blow on the right cheek; I then fell back and fired my pistol as an alarm shot, the mode by which we signalize each other.  I knew Hole.  the party all fell on me when I fired my pistol.  I retreated back, defending myself with my cutlas, my foot caught in a stone and I fell down.  I then fired my pistol which was loaded with ball, I did not fire at them as I could not have missed them if I had.  William Hole then seized my arm, and took the pistol out of my hand, they seized my cutlas, and cut the string by which it was fastened round my wrist.   William Hole jumped upon me, kicked me, and got the pistol out of my hand.  The others kicked me when I was down - one of the gang sung out, heave the ------ over the cliff." 

*

This was the second time Boatman Edward Welch/Welsh had given evidence to an Exeter Assize Court with reference to this assault.  In April four of the men who attacked him had each been gaoled for four months but justice(?) had only now (The Western Times of 30th July 1842) caught up with William Hole.  The judge who passed sentence on the others said that if the offence for which they were convicted had been committed in the pursuit of any smuggling transaction, the sentence would have been much more severe.

The lads, who did not really want to throw the bugger (what else?) over the cliff, had been drinking in a Dawlish inn.  (St. George's Day?)   Their friends told judge and jury that these were, "peaceable, steady, respectable men" but Edward Welsh clearly found them otherwise.  It is an open question whether they attacked Edward Welsh because he was an exciseman or because he was that silly bugger, Edward Welsh, challenging them with his cutlass and his two pistols.

The Times spelled cutlass with one or two esses dependent on the phases of the moon.

His officer in his evidence said that Welsh had been given orders to challenge with Who goes there?, but our hero clearly preferred Who comes here?!

William Hole was imprisoned for four months with hard labour.

VAN AMBURGH, EXETER, 1842.

"This celebrated lion tamer entered this city on Monday morning, with his collection of lions, tigers, leopards and other wild beasts, the whole forming a procession such as was never before witnessed in Exeter.

"At the head was a handsome open carriage, containing a band of musicians, drawn by eight fine cream coloured horses, and driven by Van Amburgh himself; a train of caravans containing the various animals followed and the performing elephant marched along with stately strides clothed in oriental style, and bearing a houda filled with aspiring young gentlemen, who eagerly seized the opportunity of having such an unusual ride.  The movements of the elephant were directed by its keeper who sat upon its head.

"A spacious and handsome pavilion for the performance was erected in a field by Summerland-street, and the accommodation afforded was altogether complete.

"The animals exhibited consisted of lions, tigers, leopards, monkeys, a white polar bear, and the stuffed skins of two giraffes.

"In the course of the exhibition Van Amburgh entered two dens containing lions, tigers and leopards, and performed various feats with them, showing that their fierce dispositions had been subdued by his discipline.

"The elephant performed a number of feats, exhibiting wonderful sagacity, and showing that its amazing powers were entirely under the control of its keeper.  -  The elephant left town last evening accompanied to the verge of the city by many hundreds of  the citizens with whom he had become amazingly popular, but less for his bulk than for the docility of his manners and the placidity of his mind. His luggage occupied but little space.  His bed would be found where he stopped, but he had his coverlid on his back and his trunk before him. -  This morning, Mr Van Amburgh drove out of town with wonderful eclat."

*

Mr, Isaac Van Amburgh is a Famous American and there is a full biography for him at Wikipedia.  Of course, he visited everywhere he could  and newspapers up and down the land wrote more of less the same report on his travelling menagerie.  Before he came to Exeter, he was in Sidmouth, and after he left he went to Ashburton to perform.  Two years later he wowed Queen Victoria!

But it is pleasant to think of him processing with all his caravans along the High Street in Exeter, and particularly to think of those happy, little Exeter lads who got to ride in the houda, and the hundreds of citizens who had a soft spot for the placid elephant,  his name was Tipoo Sahib!,  who went to the city's edge to wave him goodbye.

I'm afraid Mr Van Amburgh's training methods would have him up before the magistrates these days.  Still, they were clearly effective.  He is famous for being the first man to have stuck his head into the lion's mouth and taken it out again.  

The Times reporter, we know him by now, couldn't resist the trunk pun.  Coverlid  is a recognised variant of coverlet which I have never seen before. I wonder if it was/is a local usage.  In any case it is pleasing in being closer to the French origin.

Source:  The Western Times,  25th June, 1842.

STEAMING OUT TO SEA, EXE ESTUARY, 1842.

 "The St. George's Company having determined to afford their friends a holiday, last Saturday was fixed on for the day.  The steamer left Topsham at a quarter past nine, having a goodly company on board.

"The morning was lovely;  a gentle breeze rippled the soft bosom of the beautiful Exe - expanded by high-water to a most glorious lake, and tempered the severe heat of the day.

"No river in England surpasses the Exe in its single reach at high-water, from Topsham to its embouchure.  In passing down you have the appearance of a glorious lake with Exeter and the hills behind for its head;  the Cathedral rising proudly above the city - venerable by time, and a thousand goodly associations - As we are on a holiday trip we keep to the bright side of the prospect.

"Turning your gaze to either bank of the river, you have on the one side Powderham Castle with its verdant park, and umbrageous foliage.  The castle presents no aspect so baronial as that which you catch in various openings from the river.  Above it rises Mamhead, with its overhanging woods,  and its proud specimen of classic architecture, in which the particular beauties of the Tudor style have been developed with an undefiled taste, and an exhaustless treasury.

"Leaving its varied beauty, and passing from the heights of Dawlish, we have on the other side of the river the charming Lympstone, with the elegant seat of Sir Trayton Drake, crouching like a beautiful sea bird at the margins of the waters; thence we pass on to Exmouth , from which may be seen, nestlng beneath the heights of Woodbury hill, the picturesque place of our excellent representative, Mr. Divett.

"The steamer at length is passing over the bar, a secret which is indicated by the pallid faces of those who have not sea-going stomachs.  Many citizens are now qualmish, and various specifics are resorted to, all of a conservative tendency, with a view of quieting the constitution, keeping it on its present basis and enabling the inner man to hold its own.  Some resort to a dry biscuit - others fly to brandy - porter is with some a specific.

"'Oh Steward!'   'You'd better go to lee-ward ma'am'.

"As we are walking the waters for pleasure, let us turn from this scene." 

*

I suspect this piece was written by a cub reporter.   Ah well, we all have to learn!

The St George's Company was a serious shipping company that, in Exeter, had an office in the Cathedral Yard. 

This jolly day-party went out to sea in the steamship 'Zephyr' and the continuation of her voyage westward can be read in the pages of The Western Times of 18th June 1842.

There are no surprises here.  These days the splendid distant views of the cathedral are more or less everywhere obscured, although the views of it from corners along Cowick Street are still impressive.  Mr Divett's, Exeter's longest serving(?) M.P.'s, 'seat', Bystock Court, is no longer a 'view' but Powderham  Castle and Nutwell Court, (the seat of Sir Trayton Drake) are still impressive and Lympstone, from the river, despite the intrusive macmansions, is still charming.  Dry-biscuit, brandy and porter have given way to Kwells.  The mouth of the river is no longer its embouchure , an improvement surely, but the Exe when the tide is up is still second to none in its glory. 

  

  

A WITCH FENDER, NEWTON ABBOT, 1842

 "An extraordinary instance of superstition credulity and cunning knavery came to the attention of the Magistrates at Newton Abbot, on Tuesday.

"A young woman of Denbury, having been taken ill, her friends gravely came to the opinion that she had been 'witched' and took her to a man named Thomas of Teignmouth, by trade a shoemaker, but by profession a 'white witch,' or witch fender.

"This imposter confirmed their fears, and insinuated that the mischief had been done by a poor woman, their neighbour, at Denbury.

"One of the means, which he directed to counteract the evil, was to take the girl into a field and exercise her violently for two hours by running tound it, taking care to jump her and shake her about well at the four corners.  This the poor creature performed with such zeal that in a few hours after the girl died.

"The feeling now aroused in the village against the poor old woman, falsely accused, was such that she was obliged to apply to the Magistrates for protection.  They issued a warrant for the immediate apprehension of Thomas....

"....Evidence having been heard,  the witch fender, with the fear of the treadmill before his eyes, .... with the coolest effrontery acknowledged that all his pretended charms were impositions - much to the surprise, and we hope to the edification, of his former patients. some of whom were present, and clamorously demanded restitution of money paid in the purchase of them.

"The case ended in the man's dismissal."

*

It amazes us , perhaps, that belief in malign witchcraft and white-witches who can fend it off persisted, in Devon, so far into the nineteenth century  but this story, from The Western Times of 4th May, 1842, bade me recall how, in 2011, a wave of superstition, flowing from St. James's Palace washed away from our city the world's first Professor of Alternative Medicine and his researchers but not before they had done sterling work.  Superstition, credulity and cunning knavery are always with us! 

The term witch fender would seem to have had common currency in 1842,   Today the word fender seems to be restricted to boats, cars and fireplaces.  The word's meaning is subtly not the same as that of defender, from which it derives, but has clearly the sense of warding off.  

The court did well not to send Thomas to gaol; his treatments sound healthy enough and his former patients were perhaps wrong to want their money back.  Had they not heard of the placebo effect?  And, goodness me!;  what if, in our own time, all the surviving patients of cunning homeopaths were to clamour for their money back?

 

  

THE ROGUE'S MARCH, EXETER, 1842.

 "A man belonging to this fine regiment, named William Smith was, on Monday morning last, drummed out of the regiment, in conformity with the sentence of a court martial by which he had been convicted of repeated acts of petty theft among his comrades.

"The sentence was carried into execution in the usual manner, the prisoner being marched at the head of the regiment, without the confines of the barracks, with a large placard on his back, inscribed with the word 'thief' in large letters, and the band playing 'The Rogue's March.'

"The scene was witnessed by an immense number of spectators.

"The prisoner appeared to treat his disgraceful situation with a great deal of levity; when set at liberty, he tore the badge from his back and retreated into a neighbouring public-house where he regaled himself with a pipe and a half-pint of beer."

*

The 'fine regiment'  was the Scots Greys.  The report is from The Western Times of 7th May, 1842.

Ah!, to have lived in an age when the Army laid on free entertainment for the citizens of Exeter,  There were military funerals. military drummings-out, military reviews, military concerts of a Sunday, military parades, all colourful and lively and serving to please the people and to attract recruits to the service of the nation; even that thieving Bill Smith seemed pleased to contribute to the cause.  

There were many unofficial lyrics to The Rogue's March.  A contemporary one went:

"Fifty I got for selling my coat,/ fifty for selling my blanket./ If ever I 'lists for a sodger again/ the Devil shall be my sergeant."

'Got' and 'coat' is an admirable assonance;  'blanket' and 'sergeant' is just getting the rhyme wrong.  

It would seem that the light-headed, light-hearted, light-fingered Trooper Smith had not been flogged, not fifty lashes, not lately anyway.

   

MR EYRE KINGDON AND THE VAGABOND, EXETER, 1842.

"Mr. Eyre Kingdon," reported The Western Times in 1835, "is a well-meaning young gentleman, of considerable talent, and great zeal." by which The Times meant to convey that, in the newspaper's opinion, John Eyre Kingdon was a  somewhat foolish, young, Tory busybody. They expressed themselves carefully because he was the Mayor's son.

Seven years later, John, no longer so young but married and with a family, resided in one of the smart, new houses at Mount Radford (No. 4) and  seems still to have been a busybody albeit clearly a plucky one or perhaps, one should say that he was an early gentleman consulting-detective predating Sherlock Holmes by some 50 years. Anyway, The Times of April 29th was pleased to report this snippet of news:    

"Mr Eyre Kingdon is well known for his activity in aiding the police to apprehend thieves.  A vagabond went to him the other day, and said, for a pint of beer he would disclose where the spirits stolen from the Cattle Market Inn were 'planted.'

"Mr Eyre gave a quart, proud of the confidence reposed in him.  The fellow then said that the jars were planted in the river, and the thieves intended to fish them up at night.

"Mr. Eyre took his station at an early hour of the night, but the thieves never came to 'fish,' so that he lost his quart and caught a cold. It is possible that the thieves saw him, and would not go to the 'plant'."

*

The Cattle Market Inn was a 'commodious and well-accustomed public-house' in the Bonhay where could be found a 'dancing room' and 'girls of a loose character.'

Newspaper punsters seem to have been more subtle in 1842, 'caught' and 'quart' are so nicely juxtaposed.

A FLY AND A HALF, EXETER, 1842.

The Western Times of  16th April, 1842 reported:

"A man named Charles Wright, by trade a baker, was taken before the County Magistrates, at the Castle, on Monday last, charged with having attempted to administer cantharides, or Spanish flies, to a young girl, named Mary Wickett, living in St.Thomas.

It appeared that the prisoner had placed about a fly and a half in a broad fig, which he gave to a little boy who lived with the complainant, and told him to give it to Mary Wickett, without letting her mother know anything about it.

Fortunately, however, the mother of the girl intercepted the dangerous drug, and gave the man into custody,

After a full examination, Wright was ordered to find bail, himself in £50  and two sureties in £25 each, to appear at the next general Sessions to answer the above charge.

*

I hadn't heard about Spanish flies since I was in the Lower Yard at school.   We all knew all about them then.   A boy found a gurl and cleverly tricked her into eating a Spanish fly and she would instantly turn into a sex-mad predator who would certainly want to kiss him.  I don't imagine many of us had ever seen much of the creatures in question, flies or gurls, yet the reputably aphrodisiacal Spanish fly existed and doubtless still exists despite the fact that it happens to be a beetle.  These days, to parody Ogden Nash:  'flies get a rise/ but liquor is quicker', especially, when experienced by the something like ten-per-cent of the population whose drinks are 'spiked' from time to time.

The poor, lovelorn baker, Charles Wright, I suspect he was not much more than a boy, tried the experiment on little Mary Wickett but Mary's mum found the flies and recognised them for what they were.  A good thing too in so far that the fly and a half were more likely to make Mary ill than to make her amorous,  but rather severe on Charles whose offence was deemed by the magistrates at Exeter Castle to be serious enough  for him to face trial at the Assize. 

And what is a broad fig?

  

A BOAT MADE OF THE SLIGHTEST MATERIALS, SIDMOUTH, 1842.

 The Sidmouth correspondent to The Western Times of Saturday, 9th April 1842 reported: 

"On Friday, there was a large quantity of illicit brandy  landed about a mile to the east of this town, unperceived  by the coast-guard of the adjoining stations.

"The smugglers left behind them a boat used in landing their cargo from some larger vessel, and which was evidently made with a calculation as to its probable loss, it being made of the slightest materials, and not painted,  It is in the possession of the coast-guard, and marked with the broad arrow." 

For a second consecutive month (see my last blog!) the coastguard stations at Sidmouth and Weston did not notice a ship delivering a cargo of brandy to, on both occasions it can only have been, Salcombe Mouth.  The ship would have shown no lights and the crew would have made no noise and would perhaps have navigated by what the National Trust calls 'the day-mark', the great, white, man-made area of flint stones high on Dunscombe(?) cliff, which would also serve, most nights, as a night-mark.  (Does anyone know when this 'mark' was made?)

This is the first time I have read of smugglers using a cheap-and-cheerful, dispensable, unpainted boat 'made of the slightest materials' which could be abandoned on the beach to amaze and dismay the excisemen.  The boat must at least have been sturdy enough to serve as a lighter.

The customs officers of Sidmouth and Weston seem seldom to have found any kegs of illicit brandy to mark with the ordnance's famous crow's foot.    Does one sense a lack of urgency?     

 

      

SMUGGLING, SIDMOUTH, 1842.

 "SIDMOUTH. - Smuggling. - At an early hour on the 4th inst, there was a considerable quantity of illicit foreign brandy landed between Sidmouth and Salcombe coast guard stations, which appears to have been done in a cool and business-like manner, as it has been clearly ascertained that the smugglers brought their waggons convenient to  the place of landing, and fed their horses prior to their departure.

"When the occurence came to the knowledge of the coast guard they went in pursuit, but without success."

*

It's impossible to resist blogging a report on smugglers even when it is as brief and unsatisfactory as this from The Western Times of 12th March 1842.

By Salcombe is meant Salcombe Regis.  The Salcombe coastguard station was farther to the East at Weston Mouth.  I guess the waggons brought to a place convenient to the place of landing must have used the old quarry track above Southcombe Farm but, wherever, the brandy must still have been worked up the cliff.

Why is waggon a so much more satisfying word than wagon?

YOUNG FELLOWS IN EPAULETTES, EXETER, 1842

 "Why don't the Tory tradesmen who supported Sir W. Follett so handsomely, memorialize the learned knight to get the head quarters of the regiment stationed here fixed in Exeter?

"The head quarters being here would cause the circulation of a great deal of money - cavalry officers are generally gay.   They accept of invitations, and make liberal returns.  The young ladies of the great houses, make up parties to meet them, and make excuses to come into Exeter a-shopping, and don't break their hearts if they encounter any of the light hearted aggravating young fellows in epaulettes.

"The servant maidens content themselves with the rank and file, but the ladies are not less fond of the society of the officers, and this general attachment of the damsels of all grades to the killing fellows, high and low, causes a circulation of money very serviceable to a country town.

"The tradesmen must, therefore, feel the advantage of having the head quarters here.and we wonder how it is that they have not bestirred themselves in the matter. 

"The head quarters were decapitated, it is generally believed, from this city because Bishop Philpotts would not let the band play on Sundays.  Could they not come to a compromise, and play psalm tunes?"

*

This from a column in The Western Times echoes a general opinion in the city that the headquarters of the cavalry should have been Higher Barracks in Exeter and not, as it was, in Dorchester.

Note the wonderful social distinction: ladies for the officers, servant maidens  for the rank-and-file.  It was unthinkable that there might be other outcomes.

It is a shame that soldiers and royal marines don't get to strut about Exeter in their number-one uniforms any more.   It is said that the wearing of uniform in public was suspended for health-and-safety reasons at a time when the IRA were up to mischief.  We have become a nation of angst-ridden pansies.  

I happen to know that the custom of inviting officers to social evenings persisted in the United Kingdom at least until 1961 when the regiment in which I was serving received a request to supply 'two subaltern officers' to a dinner party from a local father of 'young ladies'.  It was a charming custom, satisfactory to all parties.  I doubt it happens now.

There seems some evidence that Bishop Henry Phillpotts, wrongly spelled above, really did cause Exeter to lose the headquarters by objecting to the Sunday concerts.  In any case most of the readers of The Times were willing to believe anything written to his discredit.

Source:  The Western Times, 26th February, 1842.

NO WORTHIER WOMAN, EXETER, 1842.

"A decent looking woman, named Charlotte Clark, was charged at the Guildhall, on Monday, with intermarrying with Joseph Bryant;  her husband, William Clark, being still alive.   Both marriages were clearly proved, the first to have taken place at St. George's Church in Dec. 1835, the second at St. Mary Major's in August last year

"It seemed that Clark had been living away from his wife for between two and three years, working on the railroad, where he had lost an arm, and now on coming back, finding she had married another was resolved to prosecute her.

"Bryant, the second husband who is a blind man living in St. Thomas, said he had been informed by a man that Clark was dead, and that there was not a worthier woman than the prisoner in the City of Exeter. 

"She was committed for trial."

*

What a tragedy is here! - what a plot for George Eliot  or Thomas Hardy! -  and what a lot of questions!  These were poor, ignorant people but Charlotte was a decent looking woman than whom her blind second husband thought there was no worthier woman in the city of Exeter and William Clark had been working on the railroad and had lost his arm and his wife.  Had she believed William to be dead?   Did he not communicate with his wife?

The City Assize Court, two weeks later, showed little mercy.  Charlotte was sentenced to six weeks imprisonment with hard labour.  By now she was looking sickly and the governor of the prison was asked to  employ her in the kitchens.   In a sense she was lucky, - not to have been transported.

To which husband did Charlotte return after prison, to the one-armed man who had prosecuted her or to the blind man who, it seems, truly loved her? 

Sources: The Western Times, 5th March & 19th March, 1842. ( I have to add that The Exeter Flying Post of 3rd March gives a  differing report in which Charlotte appears somewhat less worthy, )

SNEAKING, EXETER, 1842.

 In The Western Times of 12th February 1842 is found the following brief notice to the citizens of Exeter:

"SNEAKING.- The class of depredators, professionally termed "sneaks" are busy in this city.

"Mrs Chapple, of South Street, had her own and daughter's work-box sneaked off from the back parlour whilst Miss Chapple was writing at the front.  The door was inadvertantly left open."

*

The origin of the verb to sneak, says  Eric Partridge, is the Old English word snicen, to creep.     Snakes and snails are also creepers, i.e. sneaks.   Here a sneak creeps into your back parlour while you are busy in your front parlour and steals from you.  We still use the term sneak-thief  but these days sneaks tend to tell tales to teachers and sneakers tend to mean footwear.  

THE SORRIEST JADE, EXETER, 1842.

On Saturday 22nd January 1842,  John Carter, who owned a cab, was sued by William Camden, who had been his "cad",  that is to say he had been the driver of Carter's cab.   Camden was suing for wages earned but not paid.  Camden told the magistrates how he came to leave Carter's service:

" the horse being in a very crippled state, and only half fed, he was constantly tumbling down, and was altogether unfit for work, there being, in fact, "no  go" in him. Disgusted with the service he quitted Carter's employment, and applied for the payment of the wages due to him; but finding that also to be "no-go" he summoned Carter for the amount.

"Carter said complainant had quitted his service without notice and had frequently neglected his work; he also denied that his horse corresponded to the complainant's description - said his horse was well-fed, and his carriage in complete order; but Mr. Canning, inspector of police, said the animal was the sorriest jade he had ever seen, and the Mayor reminded complainant (sic) that on a recent occasion he had sent his fly to his house with one of the glasses broken, which obliged his worship to send it back.

"The Bench after telling Carter that he was liable to an action for working such a crippled and ill-used animal, ordered him to pay the amount, with costs.

*

There is a sentence in Sketches by Boz (1839) as follows:  "We are not aware of any instance on record in which a cab-horse has performed three consecutive miles without going down once.  What of that?  It is all excitement."   Even allowing for Dickensian hyperbole this is an alarming comment but perhaps in Exeter, as opposed to London, it was only John Carter whose horse was constantly tumbling down.   I think I remember Anna Sewell's  Black Beauty (1871)  also had a bad time with the London cab-drivers.

"Cad" is clearly being used in Exeter for a cab-driver.  The word seems to derive from "cadet".  Cadets, younger sons,  I suppose, being junior were by a perverse extension seen as inferiors, hence, as here, as servants and essentially low and vulgar persons.  The conductor on the horse-drawn omnibuses was known as the cad.  These days, I think, you have to be posh to be a cad.  Like Cardew Robinson or the chap who went into the jungle to live with a female gorilla.  (Nothing queer about Carruthers!)

It was clearly a bad move to send a cab with one of its glasses broken to the house of His Worshipful, Exeter's Chief Magistrate!

Source: The Western Times, 22nd January 1842.

NORNY AND SOUDNY, EXETER, 1842

The Western Times of 8th January 1842 published a spurious letter from 'one of the pretty servants of Southernhay'.   The background events seem to have been true enough.   Someone in Southernhay had been stealing watches.   The Southernhay servants were suspected.  The thief turned out to be a housemaid whose master dismissed her but did not bring her to court.  The other servants in Southernhay were said to be furious and some bright spark at The Times contrived this 'complaint' and presented it to the readership as a genuine letter-to-the-paper. 

Sir,  

"- Sarvis be no harytig and them as lost their karytur lost ther aul.  Sir Pleas to Contredik that I tuk the gentylmens wach - I Wundur the poleiss did not bring the nasty Ussey b Four the Wurshipfool justics Binch & exposed her person to the wid Wurld for the Benny Fit of wee pore inocent Sarvants to Soudnay wot be most presumshusly suspekted in the dirty bisnis.   Muster F-----, esqr noss hoose wikid survunt it was for he turned her to doors instantanous and wi doant he cum fowurd lik a gvntylman and releave us pore suspektid innosense from the degraydid suspektification.  

"ANNE HOUSEMAID                                         

"Sectry of the feemail Sarvant Assocyvashion,   Soudney."

*

I blog this silliness chiefly because of 'Soudny'.   This is the first time I have seen the contraction 'Soudny' for Southernhay although 'Norny' for Northernhay was common and not just for the dialect speaking Exonians.  I like to think of Exeter people speaking and writing of Soudny and Norny.  We seem to have lost something jolly!

I have noted before how disgraceful was the manner in which the literate mocked the illiterate in Victorian England.  This 'liberal' newspaper, The Times, was the worst offender.

It took me a while to read 'harytig' as 'heritage', if indeed that is what is meant.

A SCRAM'D HAND, TOPSHAM, 1842.

The Western Times of the first of January, 1842 published this letter to the editor from an 'old subscriber' who 'gave his name and address':

"A short time since a young woman of Topsham, who had for some time been suffering from (what  her mother called) a scram'd hand so bad that she could not work; she got a recommend to the Hospital  -  when she had been there a short time her hand became well;  at the end of three weeks she was discharged, and went home, when on her arrival at her mother's house her hand became in the scramed or contracted way again;  the good folks of Topsham said she was overlooked, and advised her to one Fouracres, of Budleigh, a wise man, who it is said can do the wonderful; the mother and daughter went to him  -  the old man at first refused to act for her, saying he had not done anything in that way for some time, but by the importunity of her mother the old man gave her something to give her ease.

"The girl returned home and her hand got righted, but she still felt dreadful prickings like those of needles.  She went to Mr.Tothill, of Topsham, who extracted the astonishing number of ninety-five needles, of various sizes,  from her hand, and there are still more to be felt in her arm.

"I have seen the needles, and you, sir, may see them also   by going to Mr.Tothill, surgeon,, Topsham, who kindly showed them to me.  But how came they in her  is what we should be glad to know;  Mr. T. says she must have swallowed them  -  if so, "would they have found their way to her hand, and all gone the same way?"  The mother says she is sure she never did swallow them.  The needles are very black, but not rusty  -  some are large stocking needles.  

"I should like to know what you think of so (to me) an mysterious affair."

*

I can't find scram'd, scramed in any of my dictionaries.    Its meaning would seem to be stiffness rather than contraction.  It would seem the word was well used, maybe still is, as a dialect word in Devon.

The whole story seems preposterous but there must have been some substance to it.  If it had been April the first not January one might dismiss it outright.

This letter, however,  demonstrates again how persistent in Devon was the belief in witchcraft, black and white.  I find it fascinating that the good folk of Topsham in 1842 believed this young woman had been 'overlooked',  which word here means 'looked upon with the evil-eye,  bewitched,  - and therefore could best be cured by a 'wise man'.  What's more, 'the good folk' knew where there was such a wise man,  Mr. Fouracres, albeit superannuated, in Budleigh Salterton who could 'do the wonderful',  - a long way to go for an uncertain cure.

As for the ninety-five needles in the young lady's hand,  black but not rusty, and the few more in her arm, they are to me, as they were to The Times' correspondent,  'so an mysterious affair'. 

A BIT OF THE MARVELLOUS, EXETER, 1841

"We are told that there is now living in Bartholomew Street, in this city, an old midwife, upwards of ninety years of age, who has actually assisted at the birth of eleven thousand children.   Our informant says that she has carefully registered the names of the mothers."  

This brief report in The Exeter and Plymouth Gazette was not believed by its 'cotemporaries' and so the following week The Gazette felt obliged to inform its readership:

"In these days of refined taste, we can scarcely venture upon a bit of the marvellous, however true, without chapter and verse being demanded for our authority; and as it is our wish to be kind and obliging to our cotemporaries,....we beg to inform them that the midwife alluded to is Mts. Elizabeth Hole, now residing in Bartholomew street, who is still upon the books of that excellent institution, the Exeter Lying-in Charity, as the senior Obstetric,  and our medical informant tells us that he has heard the old lady say that seven or eight years since, in the month of January, she attended 39 women, who gave birth to 40 children; and that, on one occasion, in 14 hours she assisted at 8 births!

"We cannot vouch for the truth of these statements , but the incredulous now have the means of inquiring for themselves; and we further understand that Mrs Hole does nor consider her case to be at all marvellous, for she says that her predecessor in the Lying-in-Charity (Mrs. Weekes) beat her by odds, having assisted at 12,633 births; and that the first and the last attended her funeral - the one being an old man upwards of 60 and the other an infant carried in arms.

"Mrs Hole is not of that advanced age mentioned in our last, but is between eighty and ninety years of age." 

*

 Mrs. Elizabeth Hole and Mrs. Weekes clearly had very long working lives.  It would seem that Mrs. Weekes' midwifery had lasted more than 60 years and that she was still working until shortly before her death. The 'marvellous' statistics could well be true.   

Many another poor old Exonian must have worked literally until she or he dropped. 

 I have the feeling Mrs. Hole was no Sairey Gamp.  She sounds very efficient, delivering babies day and night, no doubt, and keeping a record of the thousands of mothers she had assisted.

Cotemporary looks like a typographical error but it is a good dictionary word.

Source The Exeter and Plymouth Gazetter, 2nd and 9th January, 1841 

ROUGH JUSTICE, EXETER, 1841.

 The schooner, the Lady Wright, arrived at Exeter Quay on Thursday 11h November, 1841 with a cargo from Alicante and when the Exeter lumpers (dockers) and pilots got chatting to the crew, they were told a tale of how Mr.Wright, the captain, had behaved with savage cruelty to his cabin-boy, the 14 year old, Henry Payne, 'an acute and intelligent lad'.

The story quickly spread around the Quay and came to the ears of Mr. Sharland, wine merchant, who thought it right to put the matter into the hands of the lawyer, Charles Brutton who took up the case 'with great good feeling' and brought it to court, the Exeter Police Court, at the Guildhall, the following Monday and Captain Wright's cruelties were recounted by young Henry and by other members of the crew, Richards and Ray, and were thus reported in The Western Times of 20th November 1841:

"The boy Payne was employed  on board as cabin-boy and cook.  The first assault on the boy was soon after they were out of sight of land, then the captain, for some trifling neglect, beat him with a rope's end most cruelly.

"The boy also detailed a number of other instances in which the captain had punished him with a severity vastly disproportioned  to the trivial nature of the offence.  In fact, the captain's conduct had inspired him with so so much dread, that on one occasion, when the boy, while the vessel was in harbour at Alicant, had got tipsy with some wine that had been given to him, and fearing the threatened punishment, he jumped overboard, and would have been drowned had he not been rescued by the exertions of Richards.

"It happened on another occasion that the captain caught the boy asleep during the period of his watch which was from one to three in the morning.   For this offense he was slung up by the heels - the boy stated for 5 to 10 minutes - the ropes being belayed to the bulwarks, and while thus suspended, about a yard from the deck, so that neither his arms nor his head could touch, the captain flogged him with a rope's end in such a manner as to raise large weales in several parts of his body as thick as a man's finger. 

"The witness, Richards hearing the boy screeching from below, went on deck to see what was the matter, but was told by the captain that ' if he interfered, he would run a handspike through his b-----y guts.'.  In addition to this infliction, the boy was not allowed to go below from that hour till half past 11 the following night, making altogether nearly 24 hours."

*

The captains's 'punishments'  were defended in court by Mr. Drake but the Exeter magistrates decided that nothing could justify  the cruelty of the last assault and they therefore fined Captain Wright fifty shillings and costs.  

This judgement made me think of the justice administered by the Knight of the Sorrowful Countenance in Chapter 4 of Don Quixote of La Mancha for nothing more is written in the newspaper about the future of  Henry Payne and the other crew members who gave evidence.  They presumably were bound to go back to sea with wicked Captain Wright and one shudders to think what shenanigans went on the next time the Lady Wright was 'out of sight of land.' 

"I'll run a handspike through your bloody guts!"  is as good a salt-sea oath as one could hope to hear on a summer's day.

A PINT OF BEER PER HEAD, EXETER, 1841

"We have much pleasure in stating that the inmates of the St. Thomas Union Workhouse were yesterday regaled with an extra allowance of meat, vegetables, &c. and with a pint of beer per head to commemorate the birth of the Prince of Wales.  The old boys gave a hearty cheer on drinking his Royal Highness's health.  

"In the evening a general dance took place,  old John Hannabus doing the musical upon his veteran fiddle; matters of this sort must be spontaneous to be worth anything, and a hint from Lord Courtenay and Wm. Kingdon Esq.,  the High Sheriff of Exeter, put the Union officers upon the alert to carry out the suggestions so kindly given.

"The boys and girls partook of tea and cake in the evening, and were very happy, almost to the degree of thinking themselves Princes of Wales.  Among other toasts the following was given, 'May there be a little prince born every week,'  which sentiment we hope the worthy Clerk will forward to the Secretary of State."

*

This 'little prince'  was born to be Prince of Wales for some 60 years, before he became King Edward Vll.  During that time he bedded one queen and at least half a hundred 'mistresses' and goodness knows whom else!   He was, despite, or perhaps because of, his sexual adventures, a very popular monarch.

 I doubt if any of the little workhouse boys thinking themselves almost Princes of Wales in Exeter in 1841 had quite so much fun in life but then they did partake of tea and cake on Albert Edward's birthday.

Old John Hannabus had been scraping his fiddle at Exeter celebrations, mostly at Mount Pleasant, for 30 years.  I note, from the internet, that there are still Hannabuses about.  What a splendid family name!  

I suppose, strictly speaking, the baby had not yet been presented as the Prince of Wales, but then, who cared or cares?

"Doing the musical!" is a darling turn of phrase.

It's sweet to eat

some extra meat

and a free beer never fails

but then to partake 

of tea and cake:

God bless the Prince  of Wales!

Source, The Western Times, 13th November 1841.

MR ROBERT SWAIN, EXETER, 1841.

 On Monday 4th October, 1841, Mary Anne Short, a servant of Mr. Moon of Northbrook Farm, was tripping along the footpath through the fields on her way to Exeter when she was met by wicked Jabez Orchard, a lad who had only been let out of gaol the week before.  Jabez was.... "in company with four others of like bad character - who stopped her,  when Orchard seized her round the waist, and ill used her, - threw her down, and endeavoured to to rob her of her shawl,  which was torn, and only saved by the firm manner in which it was fastened on her person."  

Mary Anne was only saved  from goodness knows what fate by two men from Topsham who intervened and secured Orchard.  He was summarily brought before magistrates at the Castle and was imprisoned for three weeks.

This above was reported in The Western Times of  9th October, 1841.   One of the interventionists  is never mentioned again but the next Saturday The Times'  Topsham correspondent reported as follows:

"The person who last week took into custody Jabez Orchard, for the assault on Ann Short, the servant of Mr. Richard Moon, of Northbrook, is Mr Robert Swain of this town.

"The conduct of this individual deserves the greatest praise, when it is considered he had to contend for nearly  an hour with five notoriously bad characters, and succeeded  in capturing and lodging in gaol the one who had thus so ill-treated an unprotected female.

"Mr. Swain has been prevailed upon to undertake the duties of a constable, and was sworn into office on Friday last, by the Magistrates, at the Castle of Exeter."

Well, there you are now!  - no sending Mr Swain to Police College to learn Sociology, Kindness &c.  He had handled Jabez Orchard and four other bad characters and , without delay, he had then been head-hunted and sworn into office.

It is no doubt most often more odious than odorous to make comparisons,  -  but I find it fun!  

I watched last week on YouTube a hilarious clip of three, fat U.S, policewomen trying  for five minutes to secure one young American, no doubt a bad character, and failing dismally.

I saw, moreover, lately, two, lovely, young, petite policewomen, patrolling Exeter, laughing and chattering to each other  just like, it seemed to me, two delightful, innocent maids from school.

Well now:  -  if I were tripping over the fields and Jabez Orchard and his gang chose to rough me up,   I think I'd rather see Robert Swain of Topsham town coming over the horizon than any of the aforementioned.