Find out more about the connection between these two paintings

The portrait on the left is that of Mrs Sophia Musters, painted by George Romney and the one to the right is Mary, Countess Howe, by Thomas Gainsborough.

Both painting are located at Kenwood House and initially I didn’t realise there was any other connection, apart from that they were simply two stunning portraits of 18th century women. It was when I began to explore the life of Sophia, that her connection to Mary came into view.

Sophia Catherine nee Heywood was one of the daughters of the affluent James Modyford Heywood and his wife Catherine, nee Hartopp. The couple lived at Maristow House in the parish of Bickleigh, set in landscaped parkland, on the River Tavy to the north of Plymouth. In addition to this, James also had a plantation named Heywood, in the parish of St Mary, Jamaica.

The Repository of arts, literature, commerce, manufactures, fashions and politics – October 1826

James and Catherine had 4 daughters:

Frances, who married Thomas Orby Hunter on 26 Sept 1796 at the parish church of Tamerton Foliot, Devon.

Maria Henrietta, who married a Lewis Montolieu on 4 March 1786 at St George’s, Hanover Square in the presence of her father, her sister, Frances and John Musters.

Emma who married the controversial Admiral Sir Albemarle Bertie on 15 July 1782 also at Tamerton Foliot.

Finally, the woman in question, Sophia, who married Sir John Musters on 23 July 1776, again, their marriage took place at the parish church of Tamerton Foliot in Devon.

John Musters was a Nottinghamshire politician, land owner and the High Sherriff of Nottingham and just prior to the couple’s marriage John had the old Colwick Hall demolished and a new one built in its place ready for his new bride.

Once settled into their new home, Colwick Hall, they wasted no time starting a family, with Sophia giving birth to their first child, a son, John, born on 6 May 1777, followed by two daughters, sadly though, only one of whom survived into adulthood, Sophia Ann, who baptised on 21 Jun 1778. Their second daughter, Frances Catherine was baptised on 31 Jul 1779 but she sadly died shortly after.

Not long after this, all was not well in paradise, although to the outside world it certainly appeared to be. Sophia soon learnt that John preferred to spend his time with his horses and country pursuits rather than with his beautiful wife and young family.

The diarist, Fanny Burney described Sophia as ‘most beautiful, but most unhappy’. Sophia, it transpired, was much livelier and fun loving than her seemingly dull and disinterested husband.

Men were captivated by Sophia and being bored with her husband she soon found herself attracted to other men and was reputed to have had affairs with the likes of Peniston Lamb and George Pitt.

Peniston Lamb by Thomas Lawrence (NPG) and George Pitt, 2nd Baron Rivers (NPG)

It’s curious however, that when Lamb died in 1805 that he left his bay horse to his ‘good friend, John Musters’ along with a further bequest to Sophia. It can only be assumed that Peniston and John Musters found a way to move on from Sophia’s affair and the two men remained friends. John was said to have been furious when he discovered his wife’s infidelity and had her removed from their joint portrait and this has only recently been discovered and restored to the image above that you now see.

Sophia died in 1819 at the age of 61, the couple having patched up their differences and settled down to some sort of marital harmony. In her memory John had this tomb sculpture of a woman weeping.

Southwell & Nottingham Church History Project

In 1796, Sophia’s father James Modyford died, and it was whilst checking his will, that Mary, Countess Howe (nee Hartopp) came into view. Mary was James’ sister in law and whilst she wasn’t named in his will, her husband Richard, 4^th Viscount Howe was.  James also sold his plantation in Jamaica, along with property, cattle and enslaved people to Donald Campbell for £18,000, payable in instalments.

Kirtland, George; Admiral Lord Richard Howe (1726-1799); City of London Corporation

How interesting that the two portraits now share the same location, Kenwood House, but to finish, here we have Mrs Sophia Musters as Hebe, again at Kenwood House.

Reynolds, Joshua; Mrs Musters as Hebe; English Heritage, Kenwood

Sources

Devon Family History Society

Featured Image:

Colwick Hall

The ventriloquist who made dead fish ‘speak’

Let me introduce you to James Burns, better known to all as ‘Squeaking Tommy’.

Wellcome Collection

So, what do we know about this character?

We can see from the picture of Tommy that he carried around with him a doll with a broad face, wrapped in a piece of linen cloth which he exhibited at pubs on race days, at fairs, such as the famous Nottingham Goose Fair. He would use the doll as his assistant and projected his voice through it.

It is reported that in June 1789, at Week Day Cross in Nottingham, he used the doll to project his voice and it was so convincing that a child watching believed that the doll was actually talking to her. The child apparently became hysterical and caused her to have fits. The authorities were not impressed by this and Tommy was sent off for a spell in the House of Correction.

Joseph Mallord William Turner, 1775–1851, British, Newark – upon – Trent, ca. 1796. Yale Center for British Art

Undeterred however, Tommy continued to use his ventriloquists skill around the county.

In early 1790, Tommy called at Mr Barton’s grocers shop just outside Nottingham city centre. He purchased an ounce of tobacco, nothing odd about that, except, as he was leaving, he spotted a young employee with his hand in a large cannister on the opposite side of the shop. The young man was getting tea out of it and putting it into a smaller cannister. Tommy immediately threw a sound into the bottom of the container, imitating the sounds of a dying animal.

So, as you expect, the young man and Mr Barton stood aghast at the noise and were just about to start rummaging around in the container to find the source. Eventually, Tommy confessed that he was the real cause of the sound but not before enjoying this spectacle.

Wheatley, Francis; The Hay Cart; Government Art Collection

Another of his pranks is said to have taken place in August 1792. Tommy was travelling with a John Badderly, who was at the time servant to farmer from Car Colston, just outside Nottingham. John was driving a waggon which was full to the brim with hay. Tommy was so skilled at imitating the cry of a child that he was able to project his voice into the middle of the hay waggon causing John to stop several times between Bingham and Newark.

John was so convinced he could hear this sound in the hay that eventually he stopped and began to examine the hay more closely to find out where the sound was coming from and enlisted Tommy’s help to unload the waggon as he could bear this child’s crying no longer.  But as you can imagine, there was no child, leaving poor John to reassemble the contents of his waggon, much to Tommy’s amusement and John’s annoyance at being deceived.

Another prank took place in the house of a Mr Hogg, who kept the Milton’s Head Inn, Cow Lane, Nottingham, and who knew nothing of Tommy. A servant girl in the kitchen was about to dress some dead fish, not long having been caught in the river Trent, but obviously dead. Tommy, at the moment she laid the life knife on the fish’s neck, uttered ‘don’t cut my head off’. The girl as you can imagine was extremely startled and quickly removed the knife from the fish and just stood there in shock.

She eventually managed to compose herself, and as the fish didn’t move, she plucked up courage to continue with her work and remove the fish’s head. Tommy uttered rather sharply, but mournfully, ‘what, you will cut of my head?’ The girl was now terrified and threw down the knife and refused to dress the fish.

Kidd, William; The Fish Stall; Museum of London

Tommy eventually settled in Shelford, Nottingham, where, despite being extremely reluctant to settle, found himself a wife and married Elizabeth Munks, on Boxing Day 1784 at the parish church.

Pallot’s Marriage Index

According to his marriage entry, he was said to have been from King’s County, now County Offaly in Ireland. As to how accurate that is we will probably never know.

But marriage didn’t settle him too much and his travels continued, albeit quite locally, along with his pranks and the final one I have details of, took place in September 1795.

Tommy visited a fish stall in Sheffield and asked the price of a tench. The fish woman gave him the price of the tench, at which point he picked it up in his hand, crammed a finger into its gills and opened its mouth, at the same time asking whether it was fresh, to which the fish woman replied it certainly was, it was in the water yesterday.

Tommy immediately threw his voice into the fish’s mouth and it said,

it’s a damned lie, I have not been in the water this week, and you know that very well’

The woman, now aware that she hadn’t exactly been telling the truth, was aghast by this outburst, but she struggled to dispute it. She was said to have been much more careful in the future about the freshness of her fish – just in case!

I’m sure there must have been many more, similar tales, but they don’t seem to have survived into history. Sadly, Tommy died on 7 January 1796 and was buried in the parish church where the couple had married.

Chester Courant 19 January 1796

I have recently had the pleasure of being contacted by the celebrated, ventriloquist, Valentine Vox, with whom I have shared and information about ‘Squeaking Tommy’ and discussed other 18th century ventriloquists. Below is a poster for the world tour of ‘Ventriloquism: From ancient sages to modern stages’, which begins in New Zealand 13 May 2023.

 

Sources

Stamford Mercury – Friday 22 January 1796

Kirkby’s Wonderful and Scientific Museum

The Date-book of Remarkable & Memorable Events Connected with Nottingham p180

Featured Image

Goodacre, William, 1803-1883; Nottingham Market Place

George John Scipio Africanus

You may not be familiar with the name George John Scipio Africanus, neither was I until I recently saw his name on a Blue Plaque in Nottingham and wanted to find out more about his life and family.

George arrived in England from Sierra Leone, aged about three and was raised by the affluent Molineux family. Baptised in Wolverhampton, George was given to one of the family as ‘a gift’.

31 Mar 1766

AFRICANUS

George John Scipio-a negro boy of Benjamin Molineux’s

He was well liked by the family who arranged for him to be educated and then sent to complete an apprenticeship in the family town of Wolverhampton.

An Alphabetical List of the Burgesses and Freeholders who polled June 1826

After completing his apprenticeship, John moved to Nottingham, a county where the Molineux family had connections. There he met a Nottingham girl, Esther Shaw, who, according to the marriage certificate, unlike George, was unable to write, simply signing her name with the usual mark X.

Marriage Licence 3rd August 1788

Despite the obvious issues of Esther being unable to write and George being non-white, at a time before slavery had been abolished, the couple settled down to produce seven children – Elizabeth, Samuel, Sarah, Hannah, Ann, Samuel and George. Tragically, only one child was to survive into adulthood – Hannah.

British (English) School; Nottingham Castle from the Meadows; Nottingham City Museums and Galleries

In spite of the tragedy in their lives, George and Esther were hard workers, Esther ran a milliners and then together they ran an employment agency, employing servants for the wealthy which they set up early 1793. George had been a servant in the Molineux household, so understood what an employer would be looking for from potential employees. The couple remained in Nottingham for the remainder of their lives, continually expanding their business.

24th February 1793

In 1834 George died, leaving Esther to continue the family business until her death in 1853, which was quite something for a woman to do alone at that time.

Nottingham Review and General Advertiser for the Midland Counties 30 May 1834 Obituary

Esther was clearly not someone to be trifled with as we’ll shortly discover; on 7th April 1838, she was convicted and fined two shillings and six pence, plus twelve shillings and sixpence, for assaulting George Smith, a sweep, aged 9, with a brush.

Their daughter, Hannah, it would appear married unwisely, and clearly not really with her father’s blessing. Her husband was a watch and clock maker from Boston, Lincolnshire, one Samuel Cropper. They went on to have three children, Sarah who died in 1842 and was described as ‘sickly and infirm‘.  George Africanus, named in honour of Hannah’s father, who died at just one year, and Esther Africanus Cropper who was born 1840.

George, having become something of an entrepreneur and businessman was to leave a will, in which he left his wife Esther well provided for and also a bequest to his daughter Hannah – for her use only, under no circumstances was her husband to have any control of it. To say he didn’t approve of her choice would be putting it mildly. There could be absolutely no misunderstanding of his views in his will whatsoever.

A couple of years or so after George died, Esther, being a canny business woman took Hannah’s husband to court requiring back payment of maintenance for her daughter and her children. Apparently, Samuel had left the family home around 1825, when their youngest eldest child, Sarah was around three months old. Sarah required nurses to care for her, which presumably Esther funded. When Samuel eventually returned, he said he’d been working in France, Austria and Switzerland during that time. Esther decided it was payback time, and sued him for ten shilling per week for the time he had been away, which amounted to around £290 over the 10 years!

Samuel and Esther met again in the courtroom, this time due to Samuel becoming insolvent.

I would have thought it highly likely that George would have been impressed by his wife for her actions. Samuel’s behaviour clearly explains George’s will and George, it appears was ‘spot on’ with making sure his daughter benefited from his will to the exclusion of Samuel.

Whether Samuel sorted his debts remains unanswered, but for some reason Hannah and Samuel were reunited and produced their second and third children in fairly quick succession.

We now step very much out of our usual era but having disappeared down this proverbial rabbit hole, I wanted to know what became of George’s one and only granddaughter Esther Africanus Cropper, named after her grandmother, and whether any of George’s descendants are still alive today, so the hunt continued.

Esther and her husband to be, Charles Edward Turnbull, the son of a pianoforte maker from London, had their marriage banns read over the three weekends commencing 27^th August 1865 at St Paul’s, St Pancras, London. The couple didn’t marry in London, but instead returned to Nottingham and married the following year, choosing however, to settle in London, where Charles was a toy merchant and ran a very successful business, founding Charterhouse Toys in 1872 (probably best known for their doll houses and miniature furnishings and toys).

On his death in 1929, he left Esther extremely well provided for with around £32,000 (just over £2 million in today’s money).  The couple had two boys, who worked in the family firm, but who never married, and a daughter, Margaret Hannah (George’s great granddaughter).

Margaret married in 1899, in Surbiton, Surrey and the couple had one son, Charles John Stuart Allen, who emigrated to Canada in the 1920’s, where he married Mary Georgina Stewart Williams in 1925. They had at least two children who, it seems feasible are either still alive today or who may have living descendants.

Charles died in 1960 in New York. It would be fascinating to know if this is the case and whether they know how important their ancestor George John Scipio Africanus was in both Nottingham and British history.

There is a black and white image of a portrait of George in existence, but it would be lovely to know where the original is, but I’ve had no luck as yet, tracking it down.

Descendant Chart for George Africanus © Sarah Murden (Click image to enlarge)

To find out more about George and to see some of the original documents visit MyLearning

To find out more about Grace Dalrymple Elliott’s brother who had connections with slavery and Sierra Leone click on this link

Sources

Nottingham Review and General Advertiser for the Midland Counties 30 May 1834

Nottingham Review and General Advertiser for the Midland Counties 17 March 1837

Nottingham Review and General Advertiser for the Midland Counties 17 November 1837

Nottingham Journal 13 April 1838

Wolverhampton St Peter’s Parish Registers Index, baptisms (1538-1875)

Featured Image

Nottingham Market Place. William Goodacre. Nottingham Castle Museum and At Gallery. c1827.

The curious case of Harriet Moore, alias John Murphy

Harriet was born in Sligo, Ireland in the early 1800s. Her mother died in 1816, leaving her an orphan. It is reported in one account that she was put out to service, in another, simply that being orphaned, she put on her brothers’ clothes and, dressed as a boy, changed her name to John Murphy (her mother’s maiden name) as she feared travelling alone as a female, and set off to seek employment.

On the banks of Lough Gill, County Sligo by John Faulkner, RHA via Whyte’s.

Her first job was as a cabin boy during which time she accidentally fell overboard, and fearful of being discovered she escaped to shore and ran away.  She then took employment as a footboy to a Rev. Mr Duke where she remained for a year, during which time one of the maids, assuming Harriet was a boy, fell in love with her. The maid told her employer that she had discovered John was really a woman. Upon questioning, Harriet swore that the maid was mistaken and that he was a male but Harriet/John had no option but to move on.

She sailed on board a ship to Liverpool and assisted a Mr Lowther with driving his cattle to Leicester. Having travelled as far as Shardlow, Derbyshire she left Lowther and took up employment at the Navigation Inn, Shardlow, working for a Mr Clarke. After only a couple of months, still masquerading as a man, she was beaten up by one of the other servants for being Irish.

Shardlow Hall

Harriet then moved on and worked as a groom to James Sutton Esq. at Shardlow Hall. This was a good position, and all went well until there was some sort of altercation and Harriet left under a cloud.

During her time in Shardlow, Harriet gained employment at the local salt works and lodged in the nearby village of Aston-on-Trent, with a Mrs Jane Lacey who had a daughter, Matilda (born 1808). Matilda found herself pregnant by the village butcher, a married man, but she was also in love in love with John aka Harriet.

A Derbyshire Landscape by William Turner of Oxford. © The Trustees of the British Museum

Somehow, Mrs Lacey discovered that John was actually Harriet – blackmail began. Mrs Lacey told Harriet that if it was discovered that he was a she, she would be transported (i.e. sent to Australia on a convict ship). Mrs Lacey arranged for Matilda’s child to be raised as if the child were John’s and that John should marry Matilda.

In a state of distress at the prospect of marriage, Harriet sought employment just over the border in Nottinghamshire. At Chilwell, near Beeston, just 8 miles away, she worked for a bricklayer and first learnt to carry the hod, which she was very successful at since she had become accustomed to doing manual work. She was well-respected by her master and fellow workmen. This peace was shattered when Matilda’s mother wrote a letter to the master, saying that John had abandoned Matilda. The employer, a moral man dismissed John.

Bricklayer’s labourer, c.1820

Worried about being discovered, Harriet agreed to Mrs Lacey’s demands and married Matilda at the parish church at Aston-on-Trent on 25^th August 1823. John didn’t find it easy trying to maintain a wife, child and Matilda’s mother and began to seek work away from home and this often drew the attention of the parish officers towards him, until eventually, he left.

John went on to meet a woman who became his confidante, and upon telling her the story, she procured for him suitable female clothing and Harriet divorced herself from her matrimonial troubles. Harriet was described as short, stout, good-looking and stated to be in her twentieth year but was perhaps somewhat older.

Image of Harriet engraved from a painting held by a Mr Oakley via UCD Special Collections on Twitter.

It is interesting to note that another child, Mary was born in 1826, with no father’s name being given, the child being described as a bastard.

Then a son, George, who was baptised in the north of the county at Hayfield, 19^th August 1827, this time both parents, John and Matilda Murphy were named. I’m not totally certain that this was their child though.

The 1827 baptism is doubly curious because, prior to that date, John had become Harriet again and married John Gardiner, a widowed silk weaver at Derby on 17^th October 1825.

In April 1830, Matilda married again too, under her maiden name, but only a few months in February 1831, an entry appears in the burial register for Aston for a Matilda Browne, so it’s relatively safe to assume that she died. Interestingly, a couple of weeks later a baby, Jane Browne, aged just 6 months was also buried, so presumably, this was their daughter.

As to what became of Harriet and her husband I have no idea, they seem to have vanished into thin air. Perhaps after all the publicity, it’s hardly surprising?

Sources

Captain Rock in London, Or, The Chieftain’s Weekly Gazette, Volume 1

Perthshire Courier 14 July 1825

Bury and Norwich Post 02 November 1825

Parish registers Hayfield and Aston-on-Trent

Derbyshire Times and Chesterfield Herald 15 March 1930

Featured Image

Courtesy of  University College Dublin, Special Collections via Twitter

Cave Dwellers of Mansfield, Nottinghamshire

Known as the ‘rock houses’ they are a well-known feature of the town of Mansfield, Nottinghamshire in the East Midlands and only a few miles away from Newstead Abbey, home of Lord Byron.

A View in Newstead Park, belonging to the Rt. Hon. Lord Byron. Print by James Mason. Yale Center for British Art

Rumour has it that Robin Hood and his Merry Men had used the rock houses as hiding places – true or not we will never know (it’s a great legend though), but either way, they were extremely old, cut into the local sandstone and were used as homes until the beginning of the 1900s.

View of the rock houses c1775. Samuel Hieronymus Grimm. British Library. Although very faint you can just see the rock houses below the windmill

Robert Watson (1779-1839) and his wife Elizabeth née Moor, were one such couple who lived there in the early part of the 19^th century. As Robert died prior to the first census taken in 1841, unfortunately, there is no information about his early life, occupation etc, we do however know that they had six children – William, Robert, Mary, John, Elizabeth and their youngest Sarah, who was born in 1810.

Rock Houses by A.S Buxton. With thanks to Mansfield Museum who hold the copyright.

Their lives would not have been easy, all eight of them living in such a small dwelling, trying to make ends meet to avoid the poor house. It was often thought that these houses were the modern equivalent of squats, however, this was not the case as confirmed in a letter of 1843 from the Poor Law Commission Office, which stated

A habitation within a rock, for which the occupier pays a yearly rent, is such a dwelling place as would come within the meaning of the word ‘house’ and would consequently be a subject of rating to the relief of the poor.

In an 1813 newspaper report, we learn that whilst those rock houses had probably been there for a long time they were by no means safe and the newspaper article reported that

a melancholy accident happened at one of the rock houses – as Robert Watson with his family were partaking of breakfast the roof suddenly fell in and completely buried one of his children, about three years of age, it was dug out of the ruins dreadfully bruised and dead – the rest of the family escaped unhurt.

That child was their youngest daughter, Sarah. By 1841, Elizabeth Watson was widowed but remained in the family dwelling, after all, where else could she have gone?

1841 Census for the rock houses – Elizabeth Watson, widowed. Click to enlarge view

By this time the small community numbered just under 100 people, many were stone masons, framework knitters and chimney sweeps. One of the main occupations prior to 1841 was that of besom maker (a broom made from twigs, tied with a stick), but by 1841 only two remained – John Cheesman and Joseph Freeman.

Illustrated London News 06 August 1910

One of the framework knitters (an occupation we have looked at previously) was George Gilbert (1779-1853), who lived there with his wife Sarah and their grandson a John Day, aged 12, according to the 1841 census, their son had died in childhood and their daughter Roseanna had married the son of the neighbouring family, Robert, son of Robert and Elizabeth Watson who we mentioned earlier.

Rock Houses by A.S Buxton. With thanks to Mansfield Museum who hold the copyright.

Sarah’s marriage to Robert took place at St Peter and St Paul church, Mansfield on March 1^st, 1826, so, a long and happy life ahead of them, or so you might think, but this marriage was to be very short-lived.

At the end of August 1826, Robert Watson appears to have moved from Mansfield to Uppingham, Rutland, (with or without his new bride is unclear) at which time he was arrested for robbery along with a companion Henry Jones. It was alleged that they broke into the slaughter-house of a Mr Fludyer and stole a butcher’s frock, an apron and a piece of venison which was discovered wrapped in the frock. Both Robert and Henry were committed to trial at Oakham at the following session. GUILTY AS CHARGED.

Rock Houses by A.S Buxton. With thanks to Mansfield Museum who hold the copyright.

Robert, a stonemason, was sentenced to transportation, despite petitions from his parents Robert and Elizabeth, of Mansfield, who stressed that he was of good character, from a large family and that he had never been in trouble before and how distressed the family would be if he were to be imprisoned.

The court was having none of it and Robert was sent to The York, a hulk or prison ship to await transportation, where he remained until April 1827 when he boarded The Marquis of Hastings and began the long voyage that was to take him to New South Wales where his sentence of seven years was to take place.  The convict register of New South Wales described Robert as 5 feet 9 inches, brown hair, ruddy complexion, grey eyes, missing one of his upper front teeth.

HMS York is shown as a Prison-ship in Portsmouth Harbour with the convicts going on board. Plate from Shipping and Craft by E W Cooke, 1829

Quite how good his conduct was we may never know, but it can’t have exactly been exemplary, as six years into his sentence in 1833, he was sent to Norfolk Island, for life. This was however rescinded at the beginning of 1841 and he was given a Certificate of Freedom.

Rock Houses by A.S Buxton. With thanks to Mansfield Museum who hold the copyright.

So, what of his new bride? Did she await his return? Well, it appears that Roseanna continued to live in one of the rock houses but wasted little time finding a replacement for Robert, clearly, she felt he would never return.

A little over two years after Robert’s departure Roseanna presented her first child for baptism, at the same church in which they had married, so clearly the child was not Robert’s son and no father was named in the register, a performance which she repeated virtually every two years until 1844, on each occasion Roseanna gave her address as Rock House, so she had obviously remained there after husband had been transported. At some stage, she took up with a John Day, as to whether he was the unnamed father of her children, who knows, but her eldest son, named John, was with his grandparents on census day in 1841.

People continued living in the rock houses until the turn of the century, they are now sadly derelict and overgrown – such an interesting piece of local social history, all but disappeared.

Sources

Nottingham Gazette, 18 June 1813.

Draft letter from the Poor Law Commission to Richard Goulding. MH 12/9360/63

The Lincoln, Rutland and Stamford Mercury, Friday, September 01, 1826

New South Wales, Australia, Certificates of Freedom, 1810-1814, 1827-1867

Featured Image

Rock Houses by A.S Buxton. With thanks to Mansfield Museum who hold the copyright.

A stunning 18th-century building – Newark Town Hall

Newark is an ancient market town in Nottinghamshire and taking pride of place in the town’s centre is the Georgian Town Hall, built by John Carr (1723 – 1807) in 1774, using pale grey, Mansfield stone.

John Carr by Sir William Beechey

Carr gained notoriety for his work on the Crescent at Buxton, Derbyshire and of course, the beautiful Harewood House, amongst many other Georgian buildings.

The Crescent, Buxton, Derbyshire by John Rubens Smith; Buxton Museum & Art Gallery

This weekend Newark is one of many places across the country taking part in the Heritage Open Days, from 13th, 14th and 15th September 2018. So, if you manage to arrange to visit it’s well worth it.

The view from Newark Town Hall’s balcony. © Joanne Major

On Friday and Saturday, guides will greet visitors in the Market Place before giving them a tour of the beautiful building with its restored ballroom.

Newark Town Hall’s ballroom. © Sarah Murden

The building is still a working Town Hall and the tour will also include the Mayor’s Parlour which we’ve already had the privilege of seeing.

Newark Town Hall’s ballroom ceiling. © Sarah Murden

On the ground floor are the old butter market and the town’s prison cells.

The old Buttermarket, Newark. © Sarah Murden

The Town Hall houses a museum and is also a fun place for children for children as they can try on ceremonial robes or an elegant Georgian dress.

Discover more by clicking here.

Elizabeth Morton and ‘The Gentleman in Black’

Elizabeth Morton was baptized May 4^th May 1747 in the small, rural Nottinghamshire village of Misterton, daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth. She had three siblings – Mary (25^th September 1743), Thomas (25^th Sept 1757) and Ann (1757).

All Saints Church, Misterton. Courtesy of Southwell and Nottingham Church History Project

When just 15 years old she had gained employment as a servant in the neighbouring village of Walkeringham, just over 2 miles from her home, for a farmer John Oliver and his wife Elizabeth née Clark. At that time the couple had three daughters:

Ann (baptized 12^th October 1758);

Mary (baptized 7^th June 1760);

Rebecca (baptized 20^th May 1762)

Their son John (baptized 29^th May 1763) was not born until after the incident in question.

St Mary Magdalene church, Walkeringham. Courtesy of J. Hannan-Briggs

On 10^th August 1762, Elizabeth was committed to Nottingham county gaol, by Daniel Newton, one of the coroners. She was charged with the murder of an infant about two years of age, the daughter of John Oliver. The Leeds Intelligencer of 24^th August 1762, reported that Elizabeth had strangled the child with her hands as it lay in the cradle. The newspaper also stated that:

there is too much reason to suspect, that this unhappy girl has murdered two other young children, in different places, where she was taken in to look after them. She is a stout made girl, has little to say for herself, can neither read nor write, and appears to be of a brutish disposition.

Some seven months later, on 10^th March 1763 at the Nottingham Assizes, her trial for a capital offence began i.e. the murder of a two-year-old child and the attempted murder of another child, who survived and had recovered. Also for attempting the life of another of the children, whose neck she had almost twisted round, and hid it in some straw in the barn, where it was found by its mother struggling in the agonies of death. At her trial, Elizabeth claimed that she had been incited to commit the crime by a ‘gentleman in black’ who came to her during the night (alluding to it being the devil who made her commit the crime).

The Derby Mercury of 11^th March 1763 described her as:

a most profligate harden’d young wretch, the reason she gives for such inhuman acts, is that the children were cross and troublesome. Execution was respited for the time being on account of her youth.

The Derby Mercury of 1^st April 1763 noted her demise.

Yesterday Elizabeth Morton, a girl of only 16 years of age, was executed at Nottingham (being her Birth-Day) for the murder of her master’s daughter, a child of two years old, who liv’d at Walkeringham, near Gainsboro’. Her behaviour since she received a sentence of death has been decent. She never denied the fact but could give no satisfactory account of the motives that induc’d her to commit so shocking a crime. She was attended to the place of execution by a prodigious concourse of people where after the usual time spent in prayer with the minister, she was tuned off about one o’clock much frighted with the terrors of death.

After her death, her body was given to a surgeon of Calverton near Nottingham, to be dissected, then buried in a village near her home.

According to The annual register, or a view of the history, politicks, and literature, for the year 1763

‘… it is probable that she was an idiot …’ 

This would if proven, have been sufficient grounds for a pardon, the register gives no indication as to whether this was tested or not.

On a final note, having found the baptism records for John Oliver’s children there are also two corresponding burials at the time Elizabeth was charged with the murder of the two-year-old. Mary was buried on 5^th August 1762, but there is also an entry for the burial of Rebecca who would have been a mere three months old on 3^rd August 1762 – did she die from natural causes or was she also one of Elizabeth’s victims?

 

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Nottingham Gallows. Courtesy of University of Nottingham 

 

The state of our prisons in 1788

As you do, we have just stumbled upon a book titled ‘An Account of Prisons and Houses of Correction in the Midland Circuit’, which provides details of the conditions within the prisons following a review carried out by John Howard Esq., prison reformer, on behalf of the Duke of Montagu, so we thought we would share some bits with you.

Howard’s aim was to review the physical condition of the prisons, and the benefits or otherwise of the prisoners themselves.

The morals of prisoners were at this time as much neglected as their health. Idleness, drunkenness and all kinds of vice, were suffered to continue in such a manner as to confirm old offenders in their bad practices, and to render it almost certain, that the minds of those who were confined for their first faults, would be corrupted instead of being corrected, by their imprisonment.

Hogarth, William; A Rake’s Progress: 7. The Rake in Prison; Sir John Soane’s Museum

Howard made a series of recommendations regarding prisons including these:

Every prison be white-washed at least once every year, and that this be done twice in prisons which are much crowded.

That a pump and plentiful supply of water be provided, and that every part of the prison be kept as clean as possible.

That every prison be supplied with a warm and cold bath, or commodious bathing tubs, and that the prisoners be indulged in the use of such baths, with a proper allowance of soap and the use of towels.

That attention be paid to the sewers in order to render them as little offensive as possible.

That great care be taken, that as perfect a separation as possible be made of the following classes of prisoners. That felons be kept entirely separate from debtors; men from women’ old offenders from young beginners; convicts from those who have not yet been tried.

That all prisoners, except debtors be clothed on their admission with a prison uniform and that their own clothes be returned to them when they are brought to trial or are dismissed.

That care be taken that the prisoners are properly supplied with food, and their allowance not deficient, either in weight or quality.

He also recommended that gaolers were to be  paid a proper salary, that religious services take place and that no swearing was to be permitted. A surgeon or apothecary be appointed to tend to the sick. That attention be paid to the prisoners on their discharge and that, if possible some means be pointed out to them by which they may be enabled to gain a livelihood in an honest manner.

Thomson, W.; The Upper Condemned Cell at Newgate Prison, London, on the Morning of the Execution of Henry Fauntleroy; Museum of London

The book provides brief details of the finding at some of the prisons, so we thought we would share a few of these with you:

County Bridewell – Warwick

A new prison is finished and occupied. There are separate apartments and courts with water, for men and women; and vagrants have a court and apartments separate from the other prisoners. Allowance, as in a gaol.

No coals: no employment at present; but a long room, ten feet and a half wide is provided, with looms, and other materials for work.

1788, Feb. 15        Prisoners – 10.

Birmingham Town Gaol

The court is now paved with broad stones, but dirty with fowls. There is only one dayroom for both sexes, over the door of which there is impudently painted ‘Universal Academy’. Neither the act for preserving the health of prisoners, nor clauses against spirituous liquors are hung up. The gaoler has no salary, but still a licence for beer.

1788, Feb. 14                Prisoners – 13.

British (English) School; Daniel Lambert (1770-1809), Keeper of Leicester Gaol around 1788; Compton Verney

Melton Mowbray, Leicestershire

Two rooms. No court: no water. Keeper’s salary only £4

1788 Aug. 7.                     No prisoners.

Tideswell, Derbyshire

An old house lately purchased. Prisoner were formerly confined in a room in the inn keeper’s public house. No allowance, keeper’s salary £20

1788, Aug 3.      No prisoners.

County Gaol at Nottingham

At the entrance is this inscription on a board ‘No ale, nor any sort of liquor sold within the prison’. Gaoler’s salary now £140. The prison too small. The debtors in three rooms, pay 2s a week each, though two in a bed. They who can pay only 6d are in two rooms below, confined with such felons as pay 2s a week. The other felons lie in two dark, offensive dungeons, down thirty-six steps called pits, which are never white-washed.

Another dungeon in 1787 was occupied by a man sentenced to two years solitary confinement. The town ‘transports’ and criminals are here confined with the county felons, which it may be hoped the magistrates will soon rectify. The room used for a chapel was too close, though when I was there, only one debtor attended the service. Allowance to felons now 1 and a half pence in bread and a half penny in money. Five of the felons were county, and give town convicts.

1787, Oct 23,    Debtors       9

                          Felons etc. 21

1788, Aug 6,     Debtors   12

                          Felons etc. 10

County Bridewell, Folkingham, Lincolnshire

No alteration in this offensive prison. Court not secure. Prisoners locked up. No water: no employment. Keeper’s salary £40 out of which he maintains (of starves) his prisoners.

1788, Jan. 17,   Prisoners 3

Lincoln City and County Gaol

No alteration. Through the window of the two damp cells, both men and women freely converse with idle people in the street, who often supply them with spirituous liquors till they are intoxicated. No court: no sewers: no water accessible to the prisoners. Gaoler’s salary augments £20 in lieu of the tap.

1788, Jan 16   Debtors none. Felons etc. 5

County Gaol at Northampton

Gaoler’s salary £200, out of which he is to give every prisoner three pints of small beer a day.

In the walls of the felons court there are now apertures for air. The prison clean as usual. The new room for the sick is over the Bridewell, with iron bedsteads and proper bedding. The bread allowance to felons is a fourpenny loaf every other day (weight 3lb 2oz). County convicts 2s 6d a week.

1787, Oct 27 Debtors 9.  Felons etc. 20.

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The Humours of the Fleet. Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

The Murder of Bessie Sheppard 1817

Many people in Nottinghamshire will have travelled past the stone marking Elizabeth Sheppard’s death in 1817 and not even noticed it as it is now hidden in the undergrowth.  As a teenager I passed the stone every day on my way to school but never really knew anything about who she was or why there was a stone there, but I had heard about her ghost that was said to haunt the A60 where she died with reports of motorists stopping to offer a girl a lift, when she simply disappeared.

The story was well documented at the time and has continued to fascinate ever since. Stories normally only make it onto our blog if they contain at least one new fact, however, we have made an exception in this case as it’s such a tragic story that we think will be of interest and also quite simply because we can!

Newspapers of the day described the girl in this story as Elizabeth Shepherd, not Sheppard which seems strange that they should have got her name wrong in such an important trial. There was a baptism in 1799 for an Elizabeth Shepherd which I think was in all likelihood her, daughter of Richard and Molly. Her burial in the parish records at Papplewick also recorded her as Shepherd.

Church of St James, Papplewick (Geograph; Richard Vince)

On Monday the 7^th July 1817 Elizabeth left her home in the village of Papplewick, Nottinghamshire, to walk to the town of Mansfield some 7 miles away, to seek employment as a servant. She was successful in her mission and began the long walk home – but she never made it back. About 4 miles from home Elizabeth, known as Bessie, was attacked by a Charles Rotherham.

Charles Rotherham, aged about 33, was a former soldier from Sheffield, who having fought in the Napoleonic Wars had taken up the occupation of a scissor grinder, so was presumably earning a living by travelling around the country sharpening knives. There was no reason offered in the newspaper reports as to why he was in that area so we can only presume his trade had led him there.

According to the newspaper reports Rotherham, without a word and with no apparent motive, attacked Bessie with a hedge-stake. He beat her until she died. The Lancaster Gazette and General Advertiser described Bessie as being ‘an interesting girl of 17’ and Rotherham as ‘a monstrous assassin’.

Having found no money upon her person, he stole her new shoes, ones she was wearing for her interview, and her umbrella and threw her body into a ditch. Apparently, shortly after having committed such an appalling crime he continued his journey toward Nottingham, stopping at The Hutt, an Inn, (opposite the entrance to Newstead Abbey, which was until 1816, owned by Lord Byron), for a drink, having passed Bessie’s mother who had set off in search of her daughter who was later than expected. According to the newspapers Bessie’s mother had seen a man with an umbrella on his arm.

Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire by J.C. Barrow, 1793.

When her body was found the following day in a ditch, it was described as being in a dreadful state with her brain protruding from her skull, one eye knocked out of the socket. Rotherham was quickly pursued and arrested, by Constable Benjamin Barnes, at which time Rotherham allegedly said ‘I am guilty of the crime and must suffer the course of the law’. He was taken to the scene of the crime and showed the officer the stake he had used, but could offer no explanation as to why he had done it, but his clothes showed signs of blood stains. He had money, 6 shillings in fact, in his pocket, so possibly money was not the motive, but he had successfully sold both her shoes and her umbrella.

© Copyright roger geach and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

At his trial he entered a plea of guilty, but for some reason the judge persuaded him to change his plea to not guilty. The case was heard, with ‘a considerable number of people called’ including Bessie’s mother; the newspapers reported him as being ‘resigned to his fate’. Right up to the time of his death Rotherham said he had no idea what made him commit such a heinous crime. He was visited by the Rev. Dr. Wood prior to the hanging and seemed to show remorse for what had happened.  His fate, however, was sealed and he was hanged on the 28^th July 1817 in Nottingham. Some 20,000 people attended the execution, after which his body was given over to a surgeon for dissection and was then interred at St Mary’s churchyard, Nottingham.

Rotherham left a wife, but no children, plus a brother and two sisters. According to the newspapers he had served as a solider for 12 years in the Artillery Corps and had been present in battles in Egypt, Portugal, Spain and France. Apparently on the day of the murder he had drunk 7 pints of ale in Mansfield before walking to the spot where the crime was committed.

Elizabeth was buried on the 10^th July 1817 at St James’ parish church, Papplewick. The Lancaster Gazette and General Advertiser of 13^th March 1819, a little under two years later, reported that the local community was so shocked by this murder that money was raised to purchase a stone so that her memory would live on.

On Tuesday night a neat monument was erected on Sherwood Forest, on the spot where this unfortunate female was murdered and on which was engraved the following inscription ‘this monument was erected in memory of Elizabeth Sheppard, of Papplewick, who was murdered on this spot by Charles Rotherham on the 7^th July 1817 in  the 17^th year of her age.

The Bessie Sheppard Stone

Was he guilty? My view is that despite the evidence he was not guilty, surely if he had just beaten someone to death he would not have simply carried on walking to an inn, with blood stained clothes surely he would have wanted to avoid being seen. Wouldn’t Bessie’s mother have recognized the umbrella? Some reports state that Bessie was travelling from Mansfield towards Nottingham and that Rotherham was travelling towards Mansfield when the incident happened i.e. in the opposite direction, if that were the case, did he change his mind and head back toward Nottingham, if not then he could not have passed Bessie’s mother. It also raises the question as to why people felt compelled to mark her death with the stone, not many murders are marked in such a way.

The story of Bessie’s murder lingers on and there are still reported sightings of her ghost and as I grew up I was always aware of the legend that if the stone were ever moved from that spot that she would appear – to answer your question, no, I never saw her ghost.

 Header image: Papplewick Dam, Nottinghamshire; John Rawson Walker; Nottingham City Museums and Galleries

18th Century Stockings – how shocking!

Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

We know from our research into the life of Grace Dalrymple Elliott, one of the fashion icons of her day, that she spent a considerable amount of money on clothes, hats and finery. Looking at some of her receipts we noticed that stockings featured on them, so with that in mind we simply had to do some more investigating into stockings of the day. Clearly not a subject not to be discussed in polite society, but how else should a Georgian lady keep her legs warm? A glimpse of the calf was regarded as shocking and tantalizing.

Following a recent visit to the Wallace Museum, this image was far too good not to include  – wonder what the gentleman on the ground was admiring?

The Swing by Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732-1806)

Here on the left of the painting, we have one of the sex workers in Hogarth’s The Rake at Rose Tavern, Scene III of The Rake’s Progress, 1733, displaying her stockings whilst she adjusts her shoes, not a practice that would have been acceptable for a lady!

A Rake’s Progress: The Orgy by William Hogarth. Sir John Soane’s Museum.

Many women today wear tights, although stockings are still extremely popular, especially the ‘hold up’ variety which sit toward the top of the thigh, although for some the suspender belt remains an important feature of the underwear as a means of holding the stocking in place. There was no such item in the 18^th Century, so how were stockings worn and supported?  For those who are not aware, neither did pantaloons, drawers, knickers, pants etc. Pantaloons first put in an appearance in 1806.

The Georgian era saw both men and women wearing stockings, usually brightly coloured, especially for the men as generally, theirs were on show whereas respectable women kept theirs covered. It wasn’t until 1758 that we saw the invention of the Derby Rib machine by a Jedediah Strutt of Derbyshire,  that allowed elastic to be added to stockings, but these were expensive so only the more affluent could afford them.

Courtesy of Lewis Walpole

How were they worn?

Well, unless you were wealthy enough to afford stockings with elastic then you had to fasten them with a buckled garter or ribbon. The general consensus seems to be that they were tied just above the knee, although as we’re sure you’re can imagine that would probably have been quite uncomfortable, so it seems most likely that there was no right or wrong way to wear them and that women aimed for comfort, so either just above or just below the knee, in the way that we would for instance wear ‘knee highs’ today.  The garter or ribbon would have to have fastened fairly tightly to stop the stocking from sliding down the leg as she walked.

La Toilette, François Boucher. ©Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid

This portrait by Francois Boucher seems to demonstrate that the stocking was worn just over the knee. However, this one indicates that one was above the knee, whilst the other was possibly on or slightly below the knee. It isn’t possible to be sure as to whether the artist was trying to simply paint a risqué picture or whether the positioning of the stocking was factually accurate. Given that the use of elastic was not that common the stocking would have moved around quite freely on its own, so a degree of ‘slippage’ would occur.

Jean-Honore Fragonard – Useless Resistance

Courtesy of the Victoria & Albert Museum

The description is taken directly from the V&A website –

Pair of knitted pink silk stockings with dark green clock and gusset. The welt is finished with four thin bands of green and there are three gauge holes. One stocking has the welt finished in white, and the other in yellow and green.

They are shaped but not fashioned, and have a green gore let in at the ankle. Around this they are embroidered with an undulating floral trail with a triangular spot design surmounted by a formal flower above which is a crown.

Many stockings at that time would have been manufactured in Nottinghamshire, home of the lace industry in England. The stockings were made using a framework knitting machine and by the early 1780s, the East Midlands over 90% of these frames were in Nottingham. To find out more about framework knitting we recommend these two websites The Nottinghamshire Heritage Gateway and The Framework Knitters Museum.

The Art of Stocking Framework Knitting, 1750. © British Museum. The man on the right is operating a framework knitting machine.

One of the major suppliers of stocking in London was Collyers, of No 41, The Poultry, who, according to The True Briton, 1799, produced ladies china white stockings with cotton feet at only 7s 6d, which is about £12 in today’s money, so not particularly affordable for many. We did try to find a trade card for them but so far no luck!  We could not, however, resist including one or two that we thought you might enjoy.

Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

Did you know that according to A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue,  what we would refer to today as a ladder or run in a stocking was known as a ‘louse ladder’ – delightful, hmm, I wonder if there will ever be a revival of that term – perhaps not!

We couldn’t resist finishing our blog in our usual fashion, with the caricature ‘A Leg of Lamb’ courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library.

The Nottinghamshire Giantess

In an earlier article, we looked at John Coan, the Norfolk Dwarf. As a companion piece to that article, we now turn our attention to Frances Flower, the Nottinghamshire Giantess.

Frances was baptized at Newark-on-Trent in Nottinghamshire on the 25th October 1800, the daughter of John and Catherine Flower. Her father John was a gardener and perhaps he tended to his family as well as he did to his plants for his daughter Frances grew unusually tall. By the time she was in her late teens she was around seven feet in height and being exhibited by Mr Samuel Gear, incongruously a fishmonger from Nottingham, who had spotted an opportunity for making a little extra money. Billed as the ‘Nottinghamshire Giantess,‘ Frances appeared at fairs around the country.

A Country Fair by James Gillray
(c) Museums Sheffield

On the 15th October 1820 at Hull in Yorkshire, Frances married a man named Sampson Bark, late the landlord of the Case-is-Altered and the Lion and Lamb public houses in Nottingham, possibly he also seeing chance to exploit Frances’ height to his own advantage for she continued to travel the country to exhibit herself to a curious public.

Shortly after her marriage, she was exhibited at Hull as ‘the greatest Natural Curiosity ever Exhibited in EUROPE,’ her age erroneously given as ‘not yet seventeen’ years when she was actually twenty.

 The Morning Post newspaper ran a few lines on her on the 21st September 1821, mentioning the ‘universal admiration’ she excited and referring to her as Mrs Bark, the Nottinghamshire Giantess.

To her the meed of admiration,

What mortal can deny!

For ‘mongst all classes of the nation,

She must stand very high.

Sampson Bark died in Edinburgh in December 1825. The Stamford Mercury reported his death in their 2nd December edition.

At Edinburgh, on Sunday se-nnight, Mr. Sampson Bark, well known as having formerly kept the Lion and Lamb in Nottingham; but after his marriage with Miss Flower, “the Nottinghamshire Giantess,” he travelled from fair to fair with a caravan.

In 1827 Frances, having reverted back to her maiden name, appeared at Humberstone Gate in Leicester with the Albion Company as the Yorkshire Giantess, alongside such attractions as a Ladies Fortune-telling Pig (which we would dearly love to know more about!), a New Zealand Cannibal and a woman who was only 30 inches tall.

Leicester Chronicle 13th October 1827

Unless Nottinghamshire had gained another Giantess, Frances was still exhibiting herself in 1837 at a Michaelmas Fair in Kent where she was the chief source of attraction and described as an Amazon. Her trumpeter proclaimed her the ‘finest, tallest, stoutest, and the most proportionable woman of the age,’ and she shared a snug booth at the fair with two other women whose appearance, unfortunately, marked them as in some way different.

We lose track of Frances after this but hope she did eventually manage a life away from the fairs where she was paraded as an object of curiosity.