Saturday, 29 March 2025

A TREE IN NORTHERNHAY GARDENS, EXETER, 2025

Last week the Lord Mayor of Exeter processed in fancy dress into Northernhay Gardens together with the Sword of State and the Cap of Maintenance and about fifty followers, who were looking somewhat underdone and harrassed, to dedicate a tree to the victims of  the Covid Pandemic.  

There is necessarily a memorial tablet of marble set in stone and this is what is written upon it:

THIS TREE WAS PLANTED IN MEMORY OF EVERYONE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES DURING THE COVID-19 PANDEMIC,  MARCH 23rd 2021.

One wonders if any other public memorial in England has been inscribed in 'Pidgin' or 'Woke' or whatever this new language is to be called.  Maybe it is a first for the City of Exeter.  This would be a  sad distinction and particularly so because it is so unnecessary:  ALL WHO DIED would have been best and the city could have saved itself the expense of fifteen letters. 

In Exeter those who died were mostly of my generation and spoke the Queen's English.

Let us hope the next time His Worshipful turns up it will be to unblock the passage beween Northernhay and Rougemont.    

A BUY OR A CHIELD? EXETER, 1844

 "The Midsummer Assize for this blessed year of grace, 1844, was ushered in at a singular conjuncture.  The bells rung for the entrance of my lords the queen's judges, on Tuesday afternoon, but people were in a strange state of perplexity as they anticipated some such joyous announcement to signalize the advent of a blessed scion of the royal family of England expected by steam and electric telegraph, to gladden the hearts of once merry England.

"Notices had been very industriously published stating how it was that the Queen was hourly expected to tender an additional proof of her generous determination to extend the line of the House of Brunswick;  that Mrs. Lilly the nurse and Dr. Locock, the chief accoucher, with a host of attendants were all quartered at Windsor, whilst the electriic telegraph was waiting for a start to call the cabinet ministers to the scene of the royal birth-bed; the grooms sleeping in their saddles, ready to fly hither and thither with the intelligence as soon as the first premonitory symptoms announced the incipient stages of the royal progress.

"Well we were all thinking that if the young scion missed this world, it would not be for want of guides and directing posts, when the bells struck out and the people rushed forth into the streets, expecting to find the news running abroad that her Majesty was still expounding that important text of Genesis - which holds barreness to be an opprobrium, and sterility contrary to the holy end of matrimony.

''What ever is it? - a buy or a chield.' was the univeral exclamation, as the anxious housewives rushed forth.  Alas! there is no satisfactory resonse - 'it idden come yet'  is the reply; 'they'm only the jidges.'

The baby in question was Victoria's fourth child, Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh who was born on 6th August 1844.  So it was a buy!.

A chield in Scotland is a boy and so, etymologically, is child and childe but the Devonians managed  to gender-bend the word. 

Source: The Western Times, August 27th 1844.




A SHRIEK FROM THE BOX, EXETER, 1844.

"Two little boys, named P|AYNE and BOUNDY, were charged with stealing apples frm the orchard of S. Kingdon., at Duryard. 

"It appeared that Mr. W. Kingdon was going home late one night, when passing the orchard, which lies near the road, he saw a number of boys, some picking, some eating, and some stowing away the green fruit, a quantity of which was scattered about.  He got over the hedge, seized on Boundy, and took him to Duryard, where he learned the names of the other offenders, and let him go.  He said he only wished them to have a summary punishment, and he would not offer evidence if they were to be sent to prison.  He then called a boy named Henry Crang, who proved the charge against the two prisoners.  Mr R.C. Blunt , who was in court, interceded on behalf of Boundy, stating that his family was respectable, and that he had been properly brought up.

"The father (Payne's father) (a flyman we believe) protested at his son being whipped.  He said there were others in the case, who ought to be punished, if they were not more in favour,

"THE MAYOR -  It strikes me you are a very foolish man.

"Payne - I know that, sir;  I works harder than you do;  but the others ought to be served as bad as my son.

"The MAYOR  -  You permit him to be prowling about the roads at night, robbing orchards, and now you see the trouble he has got himself into.  You are committed (to the boy) for one week, and when you come out , repent of your evil ways, and bide at home with your father and mother.  Boundy is to go to prison and there to be whipped and discharged.  (The mother of Boundy who was present, consented to this arrangement.)

"Payne was again about to say something to the Mayor, when he was interupted by Mr S. Kingdon. who said,

"You are worse than the boy, a great deal.  You are a perfect ruffian - the less you say the better.  Take yourself off!'

"The man was reluctantly turning away, when a shriek was heard from the box beneath the Petty jury gallery; and his wife, who had hitherto been silent, sunk to the ground ina violent fit of hysterics.  Several of the policemen immediately ran to her, but they were rather out of their element in endevouring to restore a fainting woman;  and the paroxysms seemed rather to increase at their approach.  Mr Kingdon called for a woman to come to her;  but there was no woman in the Hall who would assist her;  and she was carried out by the officers."

Source The Western Times 20th July 1844.

The Western Times had an opinion of Mr. Sam Kingdon.  'Mr. Kingdon's want of temper, his overbearing, we will not say insolent, manner especially to the poor.....'   Here he lives up to that reputation.  His mode of attack was often to claim to know someone who was a stranger to him:  'I know you, sir, you are a rogue and a ruffian.'  Here he practices it on poor Mr. Payne, who drives a cab, with the consequence that Mrs. Payne has hysterics and has to be carried out of the Court.

Mr. Payne, who works harder than Mr. Kingdon, has a point.  There were several boys scrumping apples and Kingdon knew who they were.  Only two come to court;  one goes to prison for a week, the other who is from a 'respectable' family is whipped and sent home.   There's justice for you!

Sam Kingdon lived in grand style at Duryard Lodge, which these days is Reed Hall, well known to the alumni of the University of Exeter.  These days you can get married there.  You might think he could have spared a few apples.