A CHASE IN A SULKY, EXETER ST. THOMAS, 1843.

"There was considerable consternation in St. Thomas parish, on Saturday, in consequence of one Mr. Salter, an omnibus proprietor, having been suddenly seized with a desire to emigrate.  The desire came upon him with all the force of monomania.

"He packed up his traps suddenly; he departed hastily, forgetting that there are some civil obligations which he ought to have discharged, one of which was the rent to his landlord, Mr. Nicholas Tuckett.

"Many other persons professed to have reminiscences of his abode in the district, in his patronage of their ledgers; but no one thought of arresting the progress of the infatuated man, and bringing him to the cloth, as it is called, before he might have enrolled himself as a citizen of the repudiating republic on the other side of the broad Atlantic.

"But it must be a sharp mad-man, or a brisk rogue, that can out-run Mr. Nicholas Tuckett;  he determined to see the mad-man before he got on board, to see if medical aid would reduce the symptoms of monomania, & leave him to reflect a little before he  took the rash step of bolting from his country with the goods of his neighbours.

"Mr Tuckett made for Ilfracombe as fast as a fleet horse and a light sulky would take him. On arrival he found there was a ship ready to depart for America.  He planted himself between that ship and the town.  The infatuation of the intending emigrant was , however, extreme; and as persons labouring under monomania exhibit a great deal of cunning, he had sent a scout forward to see if any of his anxious friends might be waiting to dissuade him from the precipitate step he was about to take.

"The scout reported that Mr. Nicholas Tuckett stood in the way.   Three several dodges were made by the monomaniac to get past, but to no purpose, and in one he was intercepted with a whole cartload of goods, and Mr. Nicholas Tuckett, by the summary jurisdiction which he assumed to have, did get out of him the whole amount of his rent due, returning to him on some principal which we do not comprehend, £5 as a testimony, it is to be presumed, of his gratitude to him for having been caught."  

This, typically verbose, Western Times' (1st September,1843) report of a citizen, the owner  of an omnibus!,  packing up his traps (trappings) jumping on a ship bound from Ilfracombe to The States and leaving his debts behind him, records a form of action which must have been very tempting to many in Victorian Exeter.  The decision to make a new life in what was still a very young world must have been exhilirating.   Of course a man could get to Australasia by simply killing a sheep but that was less fun.  I find myself taking sides again and wishing the brisk rogue, Mr. Salter, all good fortune in his new life.

Sulkies are called sulky because they are driven by sulky persons who do not wish to oblige their fellow men by finding them a seat.  There were, apparently, French carriages, v. Lawrence Sterne, called désobligeants on the same line of thought.  Sulkies were/are super fast!  

   

THE TERMINUS, EXETER, 1843

 In August,1843 the contract had been signed and sealed for the building of the terminus of the Bristol and West Railway and work had begun at the Red Cow to build what would eventually become St. David's station.  The Western Times of 28th August foretold the future:

"With regard to the undertaking itself, the citizens of Exeter will not, we feel assured, offer any useless or uncalled for opposition to it.  Railroads must sooner or later traverse the entire length of the island - "the tight little island" -  and the favoured spots at which the Termini must eventually be fixed are the limits of the land.  We have formed an exaggerated estimate of the benefit of having the terminus permanently here, as no doubt the Plymouth people do at the prosepect of seeing it there. 

"But neither at Exeter nor Plymouth is the railroad likely to terminate.  It must go to the far west; and some of us may yet live to see the day when the denizens of Land's End may book themselves at Mr. Botheras's - that was the name of the honest gentlleman who kept the hostelry whose sign is the Last and the First, when we visited the Land's End this time two years - and arrive in London the same day."

Thomas Dibdin, who had died young two years before, wrote "The Tight Little Island" of which the opening stanza:

"Daddy Neptune one day to Freedom did say/'If ever I live upon land,/The spot I should hit on would be little Britain.'/ Says Freedom, 'Why that's my own Island.'/  Oh! what a snug little Island,/  A right little, tight little Island!/ All the globe round, none can be found/ So happy as this little Island.

"This time two years,  for  This time two years ago, is neat.

NORTHERNHAY, A WINTER WONDERLAND, EXETER, 2024

Today the Northernhay Gardens are a winter wonderland with a light snowfall making all things in the Gardens magic.  But, thanks to Exeter City Council, none may enjoy the glory.  The Gardens are bought and sold.  The Gardens are a construction site.  Not even wearing a hard hat may the citizen or visitor or Exeter collegian enjoy the Gardens in the snow.

Never mind, coming soon is a tatty funfair turning all to slush and mud! 

A JOLLIFICATION, EXETER ST. THOMAS, 1843.

 The Western Times of 19th August ,1834, reported:

"The children of St. Thomas' Sunday and Parochial Schools had a jollification on Wednesday, the funds for which were provided by the orthodox in the parish, and dispensed under the superintendance of the Rev, Vicar Medley, who was at one time considered to be a great Puseyite, and may be so still if he have not gone further and set up a popery of his own.

"The children walked to church in procession, preceded by sundry flags, some of which had been worked by lunatics, or at least were had from the Lunatic Asylum.  Some of the flags bore devices; others were plain Union Jacks.  The first flag had a red cross, on a white ground, for its device, the cross being to typify the persecutions in which Mother Church is now placed.  Another flag bore the motto, "Feed my lambs."  Another bore the facsimile of Bishop Phillpott's mitre when his head is not in it.  The  prayers were read to the children at the church; then a portion of the scriptures; and they sang a hymn and separated.

"Having dined as they best might, the children re-assembled, each being provided with a goodly half-cup.  Being furnished with their pitchers, like Gideon's army, they formed into procession and now were lead round the main streets of the parish.  On arriving at the Anchor, they saluted the worthy host with three cheers as a censure on Father Matthew, & straitway went to Franklins, the residence of Thos. Snow, Esq., banker, where they were regaled with tea and cake, there being no stint; and the church bells ringing merrily while they were thus occupied.

"They then had a game of prisoner's base, the rev. gentleman taking one side, and the 'Squire of Franklins the other.  The 'Squire proved a better runner than the Parson, owing perhaps to the military training which he gets once a year, as Captain in the East Devon Invincibles; and as for the rev. gentleman, it did so happen that he was taken prisoner in the course of the game by one of the devils engaged in the Western Times office. We mention this fact strictly in confidence, because the youngster only confessed it in fear and apprehension that he should be turned out of his parson's school if it were known that he had published it.

"The sports concluded with the singing of the following ballad, which was written expressly to instil into the minds of children the disinterested love and affection which the church has always displayed towards them:-

"A BALLAD FOR THE PEOPLE.

"The good old Church of England,/Of our dear Father-land,/With her twenty thousand Churches,/How nobly does she stand!/She is not like a flower,/That lives but for a day,/Twelve hundred years, through smiles and tears,/She hath lasted on alway.

"The brave old Church of England,/She hath conquered many a foe,/She had Martyrs to her children,/A thousand years ago./She hath Princes more than I can tell,/Who by her side have stood/Like King Charles the blessed Martyr, and old King George the good.

"God bless the Church of England,/ The poor man's Church is she/We were nourished at her bosom,/We were fondled at he knee./ God bless the Church of England,/The good, the true, the brave,/She baptized us in our cradle,/She shall bear us to our grave.

"We ought to have said that cheers were duly given for the parson and squire. Many of the half pints we regret to say were broken."

Franklyn House is now an NHS hospital.  Thomas Snow, banker and wine merchant, lived on there until his death in 1875 but seems to have left little trace in St. Thomas.  He would have been a young man (27) in 1843.  

The verses have some great lines.  My favourite is: She hath lasted on alway.

I have many times played Prisoner's Base, some 75 years ago, in the gardens of Brucklay House, Liverpool.  I wonder if it is still played.

 It must be the East Devon Militia that is meant by the East Devon Invincibles?

I don't think the Church of England can even now claim to have had martyrs 1000 years ago but then, we are told, the Rev. Matthew Medley (I''m sure he penned the verses) may have set up a popery of his own.

Query: Which King George?

N.B: lead for led?  

Good to see the apostrophe in 'Squire! 

In the next edition of The Times appeared a parody of the St. Thomas Schools' Ballad composed by ONE OF THE PEOPLE. 

"The good old Church of England,/ Of our dear Father-land,/ With her rwenty thousand parsons,/ Impoverishing the land." 

And a further eight lamentable stanzas.  

A HOME-LOVING JUDGE, BODMIN, 1843.

The Western Times,  (12th August, 1843), 14 years before John Taylor Coleridge met Tom Pooley, gives a glimpse of the character of that judge which I find enlightening.

The newspaper was of the opinion that this was a judge who had a disposition to bolt, when on this Western Circuit.  It claimed that the judge was in the habit of sneaking off home as fast as four post horses could take him, neglecting his duties by delegating to juniors and, as a consequence, endangering justice.  In August 1843, he had been sitting at the Cornish Assize Court:    

"The learned Judge, it is said, passionately loves his country seat.  It is certainly an amiable feeling the desire to snatch a few hours out of the Assize in order to enjoy the beautiful scenery and peaceful retreat of the charming neighbourhood of Ottery St. Mary.

"We can readily understand the temptations by which the learned judge is assailed; but the difnity of his office requires that when he chooses to snatch a few hours from Court, for the indulgence of his rustic taste and his home memmories,  he should in deference to public opinion, and the character of British justice, avail himself of the best helps, inseaed of the most inexperienced and not the most efficient."

Discrepancies of judgement were accordingly taking place:  "A man was tried and convicted.... of stealing two pints of cider, the property of a person described as a gentleman and was sentenced....to seven years' transportation"  Another prisoner convicted of stealing a cow was sentenced....to one year's imprisonment."

(I publish this at a time when Keir Starmer's judges are handing down what seem to be unreasonably  punitive sentences for trivial offences while serious offenders are being released from gaols.)     

Subsequently:  (The Western Times, 19th August 1843)

"But the Judges have won this lofty character by the integrity and laborious zeal with which they have hitherto discharged their office.  The high character of the Judges is national property.  Mr. Justice Coleridge by neglecting his duties and delegating them to 'inferior hands' for his own personal convenience, perils the reputation of the Bench and in so doing lays himself open to public censure and animadversion.

"It is not denied that the learned Judge showed symptons of impatience towards the close of his labours, and that he actually left the town whilst the Jury was locked up in the last case, and that he left thus precipitately on the Tuesday."

ON TENTER HOOKS, EXETER, 1843.

 Mr. George Maunder was a woollen manufacturer on Exe Island .  On the 17th July, 1843 'a piece of blanket, containing twelve pairs' of his manufacture was hung out on racks in Serge Grounds, St. Thomas.  They were stretched on tenterhooks.  The next morning two of the blankets were found to have been cut. The tightly stretched fabric must have been tempting to slash!  Henry Colman a 'decent looking lad', sixteen years old and an assistant clerk to Mr.Thomas Moss, an Exeter linen draper, was charged with maliciously cutting and destroying the blanketing.  The case came before the Devon and Exeter Assizes of August, 1843.

This was a serious charge, because a particular statute, passed long before, I imagine to protect the nation's vital woollen trade, meant that, if convicted, Henry would be liable to be transported for life, or at least for not less than seven years or to serve a lengthy term of imprisonment.

The only witness against him was another boy,  Francis Braily, aged fifteen.  Who gave evidence thus:

"I am porter to Mr. Rudall, a carrier.  I was in company with the prisoner on the evening of the 17th of July, at a public house, in St, Thomas;  two other boys were in company. We left at twelve o' clock We went into the Rack Field, and sung for about half an hour.   Before we went away Henry Colman went up to the rack, took out his pen-knife, and cut one of the blankets right across. I called him a fool then, and he went to the next blanket, cut it across and cut a piece right out.  I went out of the field, wished him good night, and went home.

Cross-examined -  I told of it because it was not the right thing for the gentleman to have his property cut up.  I'll swear that that's the reason.  No one came to me....  I was took up to the Guildhall  - not by force.... I have been in prison - in the county - on suspicion of a waistcoat - of stealing it.  That was six months ago.  I was tried at the Sessions, and staid in prison a month after the trial.  I was in the service of Mr. Manley, the butcher, after that, I was not turned off for suspicion of stealing.  I was in Mr. Lendon, the cheesemonger's employ.  I was not turned off on a charge of robbing a little girl of three pence-ha'penny  - (laughter).... There was a charge of that kind.  I was turned off from Mr. Lendon on that charge....I am in no person's employ now.  I was in John Rudall's employ; I left about a month ago.  

At this point little Francis Braily was in tears but Judge and Jury found him hilarious and had clearly come to the conclusion that his evidence was worthless.   Henry, moreover, had people ready to give him a good character and so the judge, Tom Pooley's judge, John Taylor Coleridge, discharged  him with immediate effect.

Henry had been in prison for three weeks but no heed was given to that, nor to the fact that he had been three weeks on tenterhooks.

That these little lads were out drinking in a pub until midnight and then singing in a field for a half-hour before they went home gives a glimpse of teenage life in 1843.  Well, it was perhaps not all that unlike some Exeter College teenagers in 2024!

Source:  The Western Times,   6th August, 1843.

A TUCK UNDER THE EAR, EXETER, 1843.

Before the Police Court at Exeter Guildhall in July 1843 an employee, unnamed by the newspaper, complains that he has been assaulted by his employer:

"Mr. Samuel Roach, landlord of the Bull Inn was charged with knocking down a man in his employ, on Monday last.  The complainant stated that they had a quarrel, in the course of which Mr. Roach knocked him down with great violence.  

"Mr. Roach, on being asked what he had to say to this, replied, 'Well, I think he has told you pretty well the truth.  I went up into the brew house and found him quite drunk; then, when I spoke to him, he began to be saucy, as well as he could speak and I just gave him a little tap with my flat hand, like this, and, Lord bless you, he went right down..'

"MAYOR - It is no matter, you have no business to take the law into your own hands.

"Mr. ROACH - No, I know I have not, but it is a terrible trial to have a drunken fellow like that; you can't depend on such a man.  I have served him like that many times before, just to give him a tuck under the ear;  I should not wish to hurt the fellow.

"Mr. KINGDON - I expect your pats are very hard pats.  You are a very strong, powerful fellow.

"Mr. ROACH - Why, I tell ye,  when he came to me we agreed if I caught him drunk I should flog him - (laughter).   Fined 2s 6d.

"Mr. Roach has been a prize fighter in his day, is about six feet high, and at least proportionately stout and strong."

The 'complainant' seems to have been a 'fellow' of so little significance that he is not even named but the wonderfully independent and confident Mr. Sam. Roach of the Bull Inn, (Goldsmiths Street) six foot high and a sometime prize-fighter and also, incidentally, a sportsman and owner of racehorses is a man to be respected.  Predictably the Court is not too hard on him.  Perhaps not even the Mayor wants to make an enemy of him, after all no one wants to risk a tuck under the ear that knocks you down. 

Source: The Western Times, 29th July 1843.

A MONEY CLUB, EXETER, 1843.

"Elizabeth Bunclark was summoned for using abusive language to Harriet Fulford. Defendant kept what is called a money club;  a number of women (in this case 42) subscribe 1s a-week each, and every Saturday they draw lots for a prize of two guineas. The ticket being transferable, it is not uncommon, towards the end of a drawing to give as much as 10s or 12s for a chance in this lottery.

"Mrs. Fulford had not paid her week's subscription; defendant called on her to dun her for it, and assailed her with a volley of abuse.  

"As it appeared that although defendant, as well as the witnesses, was in the street (Spiller's-lane)  Mrs, Fulford was within the door of her house, the Bench were of opinion that the squabble was not an offence against the Improvement Act, and dismissed the case.

"We understand that measures will be taken for prosecuting Bunclark for keeping an illegal gambling house."

They sound like a jolly bunch, the merry wives of Spiller's Lane (St. Sidwells).  I can imagine them gathering together for the draw, with the odds shortening and the deals being done, and it seems a pity that Mrs. Bunclark's run-in with Mrs. Fulford should have come to court. 

Source: The Western Times,  22nd July 1843.

   

REMEMBRANCE, NORTHERNHAY, EXETER, 2024.

 On Remembrance Sunday, 2024, in Exeter there was no ceremony to remember the dead of Devon at the County war-memorial in the Cathedral Yard.   This was just as well for the Sons of Mammon had built their houses (The Christmas Market!) so close to the Devon war-memorial that they had not left room for the Lord-lieutenant to lay his wreath.

Respect for those Devonians who gave their lives for the causes of this nation was therefore registered, subsumed, in the moving ceremony that took place in the Northernhay Gardens, Exeter's sacred corner, its Valhalla and the jewel in the city's crown, where stands the very fine Exeter war-memorial executed by the Devon sculptor, John Angel, and where also is a rather sad war-memorial raised to those who have lost their lives in more recent conflicts.  A larger crowd than usual, therefore, turned up to see the Mayor of Exeter and other dignitaries, civil and military, lay wreaths to the memory of the fallen.

The following day, yesterday as I write, was Armisitice Day and the gates of Northernhay Gardens are locked against city folk and county folk and all.  None will have access to the Gardens until 22nd November.  The wreaths lie at the war-memorials in what has officially become a 'construction site' with only the 'constructors' to see them.  They will inspire no remembrance. Exeter's will be the war-memorial least visited in the kingdom. The Lord Mayor, who so sincerely bade us remember the sacrifice of so many, and his Council have rented out the Gardens to be once again a 'Winter Wonderland' which is to say a rather tatty and harmful, to the Gardens, funfair.

The Gardens, for Health and Safety reasons are now denied to the public.  When they are opened again the city's war-memorial wil be surrounded by all the fun of the fair and by plastic 'rudolfs', 'santas' and such.  Not much thought will be given to the glorious dead. 

There will be a further week of Health and Safety closure while the 'Wonderland' is packed away.  Shortly before Christmas the people of Devon and Exeter will have their war-memorials back, the wreathes, so 'respectfully' laid will have wasted, degraded by the rains and winds of winter and much of Northernhay Gardens, no doubt, will exhibit swathes of the mud that one associates with Flanders Field.

BADGER BAITING, EXETER, 1843.

 

The Scots Greys had marched away and in the Higher Barracks were the 4th Light Dragoons who, I think, were what was called a slang regiment, that is to say a rakish one. There was a law against badger baiting but clearly it was not being observed.  

Badger baiting was a most cruel 'sport'.  The Western Times thought so too,  hence this excercise in heavy sarcasm (1st July, 1843).

"The badger baiting at the barracks is carried on with much spirit.  The sport is excellent, and the elite of Westgate generally honour the officers with their attendance on these occasions.

"At a late exhibition Mr. Westlake's dog proved very game, and the respectable owner was offered four sovereigns for it by a gallant officer, who was so charmed with his pluck that he wished the animal might be left with the badger for an hour, to see which would be alive at the end, the dog or the badger.

"We notice these matters with great pleasure, because we think that sports which tend to advance the human character, and do so much honour to the game breeding of our Cathedral city, should be more generally cultivated.

"In ancient times monarchs used to attend bear baiting - our virgin Queen Elizabeth did so - we hope to see both Mayor and Mace going to this truly noble sport." 

Mr. Westlake was a flour merchant from New Bridge Street, right in the middle of the Westgate district, the least fashionable corner of Victorian Exeter.

'Mayor and Mace' is a sweet phrase to mean the civil authority as a whole.  I have not seen it before.

PRIEST-RIDDEN, EXETER (& THE NATION!), 1843.

The Bishop of Exeter and his minions had been persecuting, in the opinion of The Western Times, the Reverend Henry Erskine Head, Rector at Feniton, for opinions he had published in the newspaper concerning what he saw as  inconsistencies in the Anglican Book of Common Prayer.  This was seen as rebellion to the bishop's authority.   

Mr. Ralph Sanders, citizen of Exeter, was delegated to bring a complaint against the Reverend Henry Head to the clerical court, the Arches Court, which, predictably, condemned him .  He was to lose his benefice for three years and he was obliged him to pay the crippling costs of his case. 

On the 24th June 1843, The Times published this letter to the editor from A FRIEND OF LIBERTY:

 "I observe in the London papers that judgement has been given in this cause, and that Mr. Head is condemned to pay the costs of the suit, and suspended for three years.

"That such a sentence should be pronounced every liberal-minded man must regret, as well as for the cause of liberty, as that of true religion.

"Surely it is disgraceful that in this enlightened age a man should be persecuted, yes, absolutely ruined, for expressing his sentiments on the Common Prayer Book.  If the Common Prayer Book will not bear examination, it is unworthy to be read in the church.

Galileo was persecuted for uttering his opinions:  we readily condemn the authors and abettors of that persecution; and will not the public at once come forward and with one voice condemn the proceedings in this disgraceful suit, by raising such a subscription as will enable Mr. Head to pay the costs of the suit, and thus testify that they will not be priest-ridden.

"Surely the English of the 19th century will not stand still and suffer this matter to pass unnoticed?  If they do, must they be surprised at any step, however infamous, which may be taken to shackle and restrain their liberties." 

I am writing under the governance of Prime Minister Keir Starmer, at a time, an enlightened age?, when punishing Englishmen for their opinions is back in fashion.  The last paragraph, substituting 21st for 19th, could apply to our current discontents.

My pet blasphemer, Tom Pooley (1857)  liked to compare himself to poor Galileo. 

A CHIMNEY-SWEEPER, EXETER, 1843.

 "At the Castle,on Friday last, Mrs. Elliott, of Exminster, appeared on a summons, to answer the charge of having permitted a chimney sweeper, named Jarman, who was under he age of 21, to ascend the chimney of her house, and sweep it, contrary to the provisions of the chimney sweepers' act.

"Mrs. Elliott stated that she agreed with Abraham Jarman, brother of the one who ascended the chimney, to have it cleaned, but she didn't know of the younger one being sent up it.  The case against her was dismissed but Jarman was fined £5, or in default, to be imprisoned a month for having permitted his brother to go up the chimney."

The Chimney Sweepers Act had only come into force in 1840.  It was nationally being little regarded but Exeter was quick to see justice done.  Poor Mrs. Elliot only wanted her chimney cleaned but ended up in court.  

We don't learn whether Abraham Jarman paid his, significant, fine or went to gaol.  In any case he lived on in Exeter to witness a new era of chimney-sweeping and in 1849 he was a valued employee of the Vulcan Patent Sweeping Company,  93, North Street.  The Patent Vulcan Sweeping Machine ushered in a climbing-boy-free age.  I wonder if Exeter and Mr. H.W. Frampton, the inventor, can claim to have used the first such machine.  If so, they contributed as much as Lord Shaftesbury to saving young lives.

I don't know what happened to the little brother.  I hope not stuck up a chimney. 

Source: The Western Times,  3rd June 1843 and 12th October, 1850. 

SHOW YOUR OAK, EXETER, 1843.

"Last Monday being the anniversary of the restoration of that royal scamp Charles II, - the day was generally observed by the little boys and schoolmasters as a holiday.

"The urchins kept up the traditional cry of the restoration by challenging youngsters who did not display the sign of the Stuart ascendancy, and cries of 'show your oak,' resounded through the streets.

"A few of the greener sort of tradesmen sported oak boughs at their door - but the display was not equal to what we recollect of a few years since."

The escape of Prince Charles and his hiding in the oak is a good story that young people in England today have not heard.  Many young people have never heard of the Restoration nor, for that matter, of  Alfred burning cakes nor of Harold losing his eye, Bruce critically examining spiders, Nelson putting the telescope to his blind eye,  Lord Uxbridge losing his leg at Waterloo.  Many, indeed, have never heard of the Danish Invasion, Hastings, Bannockburn, Copenhagen or Waterloo et cetera, ad infinitum!   

What is History?  Well,  in my opinion it doesn't do to take it too seriously, it is mostly lies, of course, but the kind of half-true lies that, for the most part, are heuristic, provide holidays and bonfires, offer some drama and fun, do (mostly) no harm, improve morale and bind communities and nations together.   Schoolboys and schoolmasters  (let us at once include their female equivalents,) no longer get a holiday on May 29th nor do they stick oak-leaves in their hats.  The narratives they ingest in schools these days are dismal to a degree and just as much half-truth and propaganda as populat history and they provide no fun and no holidays.  It seems a shame to me.  Bring back Oak-Apple Day!  

Source:  The Western Times, 3rd June, 1843

LOW IN THE DUST, ROMANSLEIGH, 1843.

Having found this I felt I should not let it get lost again.    Romansleigh ('Rumsleigh') is a long way from Exeter but The Western Times published this on 27th May 1843.   Perhaps it has been recorded elsewhere but, just in case it is not, I replicate it here.  The scale of the infant mortality in this village of North Devon is heart-rending and the ingenuousness of the local scribe only makes it seem more so:  

"CHURCH-YARD POETRY.  -  A Maryansleigh correspondent sends us the following touching communication respecting the mortality in that parish.  He has paraphrased the awful fact with most awful poetry: -

"'MOARTALITY. - In Romansleigh within the Last three months we Have witness thirteen Furnals of Home 10 have been Childering out of this very small parish and one now lyeth a bear [a bier] wich make 14 six out of one House. 

"We 11 childring gone to sleep/ We leave our parentes dear to weep/ Our parents dear weep not for we/ for we are gone our god to see.

"We 11 childring are gone you see/ preay take a pattern now by we/ for you must follow you plinly see/ Low in the Dust we Lied Be.

"Six from one House you plenly see/ What dretful thing must this be/ through the are gone from this/ We all must go and cant resist." 

 

The Western Times helps its readers to read bier for bear but leaves them to work out that Home=whom (which) and through the=though they.

This North Devon Childering/ childring looks like a usage that might be of interest to lexicologists.

THE 'REAL' TOM POOLEY.

Tom Pooley's Fateful Year is admittedly a contrived work. It is a jeu d’esprit in as much as I thoroughly enjoyed putting it together.  It is, however, mostly Pooley’s own work.  He has contributed more to it than I have, indeed the work must be something like  60% Pooley and 40% Pooley pastiche supplied by me, Wayland Wordsmith, and I hasten to add that the vituperative content is 100% Tom Pooley.

The writings of Tom Pooley exist and the original manuscripts are in the public domain but they are such a kaleidoscope of fantastic ideas with so many repetitions and confusions and with such bizarre capitalization and with such an unconventional orthography that they needed the savage edit which I have applied.  

The ‘real’ Tom Pooley, 1807 to 1876, was one of those many men or women, some more clever than others, and some even who seem to change the world for the better, who are naturally suspicious of what they are told by persons in authority.   Tom Pooley was a natural contrarian.  Although he was not a clever man and not, one might think, a man capable of changing anything, he questioned everything and thought as hard as he was able to find alternative theories to counter opinions that he felt were being foisted upon him.  Invited to look up to heaven, Tom Pooley looked down to his boots, to the Earth beneath his feet.  Invited to love Christ as the son of God, Tom Pooley declared him to be an imposter and a blackguard.  He was by nature argumentative.  He was, as his daughter said of him, a man who liked to enjoy his own opinion.   It was his duty, he believed, not only to protest his own beliefs but to write on gates and walls and in Bibles and so to alert the world to his truths.

His zeal, however, went no further.  He did physical harm to no man and despite his fulminations he was content to live at peace with all around him. He believed that, as an Englishman, he was free to speak his mind. His neighbours, his wife and children read their Bibles and went to church unrestrained by him and worshipped as and when they pleased.  In his children’s Bibles he did not write.  Like any prophet, Tom would have liked the world to know the truths that had been ‘revealed’ to him but he found no followers, he commanded no audience.  He was more-or-less alone with his thoughts.  He dictated no rules.  His was truly a voice crying in a wilderness.  He lacked the power to make anyone take notice of him.   When he expressed himself  his ideas were ill-formed and no-one took him seriously.  This was what frustrated him.  Most people thought him to be harmless but just a little crazy.  Eccentric his ideas were, but not more difficult to accept perhaps than the mystery of the Holy Trinity or the New Testament miracles:  walking on water, turning water into wine, raising the dead, stories which in 1857 were taken literally and about which, whatever they thought about the matter, very few poor Cornishmen dared or cared to express any doubt.

Tom believed that important truths had been revealed to him.  Not only that, he felt that it was his duty to be the evangelist of his own crude Gospel and that he was called upon to reveal to his friends and neighbours the virtue of his faith and the essential iniquity of Christ and Christianity.  “What is man or woman after they converted to the Christian religion?  Sly. unjust, selfish, deceiving, lying.” It is not in the least too strong to say that he made it quite clear in his writing and in his conversation that he hated and feared Christ, Christians and Christianity and the expressions of his fear and hatred were hardly warmly welcomed by most of the good people of Victorian Liskeard.  But although he had for many years sought to advertise his views and although he had made enemies, he had, until his fateful year,  lived a relatively quiet life and his name was known to only a few.

I find Tom Pooley, the Cornish Well-sinker so much like a precocious infant, a terrible child, that still today, nearly a century and a half after his death, he amazes and gently amuses; at least, he amazes and gently amuses me.  Child-like and confused, he struggled to be a serious man and, more than that, he presented himself as a prophet, a chosen one and as the saviour of mankind.  I believe there is a case for him to be remembered, which is what, above all, he wanted.  His ‘Case’ divided ‘polite society’ and a handful of eminent Victorians allowed themselves to be drawn into the controversy.  What they said and did seems to me to be relevant today as we find ourselves once again between the poles of Free Speech and Censorship.  The Altogether Amazing Tom Pooley blog seeks to record the consequences of Pooley’s Case on the individuals who were involved in it and indeed to consider all matters Pooley. 

  

 

A WATERCRESS MAN, EXETER, 1843.

 "Prior, a watercress man, was fined ten shillings, and in default of payment committed to the treadmill for a fortnight on the complaint of the Rev. Charles Rodwell Roper, for using indecent and obscene language.  

"A woman, who had refused to buy his cresses incited the wrath of defendent;  and he avenged himself by a torrent of excessively bad English.

"The reverend gentleman remonstrated with him; but reproof led to no reformation, and hence the result." 

I have not met a watercress man before in the golden realm of The Western Times but they would have been busy here with their baskets of cress in or around the Higher Market.  I imagine the cresses in Exeter would have been foraged, raked from local streams and ponds rather than farmed, although the Victorians did have watercress farms.

Two weeks imprisonment with hard labour seems a stiff sentence for effing and blinding, but then there was an Anglican parson involved and no doubt Prior was 'disrespectful'.  I smell something of what Tom Pooley would call Bible Tyranny in the case.

I have blogged the Tractarian, Reverend Rodwell Roper before.  He was the Rector of Saint Olave's who made Mr Ferris take off his hat in the vestry.  https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/3897615916165646799/3234197303490926862 (THE CLERICAL COMMAND).

20th May, 1843

DANNY'S BOY, EXETER, 1843.

 "A bill-sticker named Thos. Dadds, summoned Mr. H. O'Connell, soi disant son of the great agitator, for the non-payment of 10s. due to him for the exercise of his profession.

"Mr O'Connell, in Sept., 1841. had bills posted about the city, stating that he would deliver a lecture on the Drama, the Immortality of the Soul, and the State of the Country, all on the same evening!  and the price of admission was two shillings only! 

"Those, however, who put their trust in these posters were doomed to be disappointed.  Mr O'Connell did not appear on the evening fixed; and so the minds of the liberal and discerning public were left unenlightened on these important subjects, and Thomas Dadds, the bill-sticker, was not remunerated for fixing in conspicuous situations the aforesaid delusive placards.   Mr. O'Connell not appearing before the Bench, the case was deferred to Monday."

"MONDAY, -  Mr. H O'Connell now appeared to answer the complaint of the bill-sticker, and said that as he was under age when this debt was incurred, he was not answerable for it.  The bill-sticker must therefore apply to his father, the great liberator.

"He, however, was willing to pay 5s.  He was now about to deliver a lecture on Astronomy (at which he would be happy to see their worships).  He intended to pay the expenses this time, and he thanked God he had the means to do so.

"After some chaffering, this was agreed by Dadds, who stipulated, however that he should have (as we understand) a few dozen of his admission tickets over and above the 5s."

This is fun, because this young man is assuredly Henry Simpson O'Connell the soi disant, as The Times elegantly puts it, son of Daniel O'Connell,  the  great and famous Liberator of Ireland, by Ellen Courtenay, a clever lass from Cork, who claimed to have been raped and thereby inseminated of Henry by the fragrant, 40 year old, family-man and liberator, Daniel, in Dublin when she was only 15.  She, like Henry, subsequently, survived as an itinerant lecturer as well as being an actress, a writer and a poet.  Daniel denied fatherhood of Henry but the boy's physical appearance was said to have given the lie to The Great Liberator.

If, as seems probable, Henry was living in Exeter between 1841 and 1843 we would perhaps not have suspected it, were it not for Mr. Dadds the unpaid bill-sticker. 

A writer, Trina Wills, in 2022, supplied a truly fascinating paper, on-line, about Ellen Courtenay, (https://repository.canterbury.ac.uk/item/94z00/the-voices-of-ellen-courtenay-the-life-and-work-of-ellen-courtenay-as-helen-steinberg-poet-actress-appeal-memoirist-and-lecturer) who Ms. Wills discovered, did not, as the world imagined, die in 1836 but who secretly transmogrified to one 'Helene Steinberg' (with the accents!) and lived until 1864. 

Source: The Western Times, 20th May, 1843.