Nothing says Christmas better than the arrival of Cadbury’s Creme Eggs in the shops…..
They’re 50 in 2021….
Author: admin
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Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Isaac Brett & Lucy Brett)
Since I’ve been grounded again by the Government, I thought I’d meander around the Rosary Cemetery located near to me in Norwich, in an attempt to see what stories lie there. It might not be the most fascinating blog content, but it’ll keep me quiet for a few weeks….
This isn’t entirely ideal in terms of reading the inscription on the grave, and I’m not going to fiddle about with shrubbery on a gravestone. I can just imagine half the stone will come off in my hand, probably with a gaggle of people happening to walk by when that’s happening. So, the easiest alternative is to hack around on findagrave, a web-site which has many names already listed.
Although the details aren’t entirely accurate on findagrave (which is understandable – look at the state of that ivy….), it was enough to work out that this is the joint grave of Isaac Brett and Lucy Brett.
Isaac Brett was born in Caston, a village located near to Attleborough, and he was baptised on 12 July 1798. He was the son of George Brett and Mary Brett, and he remained in the area as in the 1841 census he was living nearby with his wife at Gap Farm at Rockland St. Peter.
His wife was Lucy Howell and he married at Caston church, the same place where he had been baptised, on 7 January 1828. Lucy had been born in Norwich in 1802 and had seemingly moved to be nearer to where her husband lived.
At the 1851 census, Isaac and Lucy had moved and were living alone at Upper King Street in Norwich, with the enumerator noting that Isaac was a shoe maker and he employed six men. They were living at the same address at the 1861 census, this time living with their 11-year old grandson, John Page, who was already working as a banker’s clerk.
Isaac died on 15 January 1863 at the age of 64, leaving effects valued at just under £450 (around £30,000 in today’s money) to his wife. At the 1871 census, Lucy was living with another one of her grandsons, George Page, who was aged 13. By 1881, Lucy had moved in with her grand-daughter, 33-year old Lucy Raven, who was living with her family near Mulbarton, having married Benjamin Raven who was 23 years older than her.
Lucy was still living with her grand-daughter at the 1891 census, but they had now moved to Stratton St. Mary (as an aside, this, alongside Stratton St. Michael were merged to become Long Stratton) and Lucy died shortly after the census was taken, on 10 April 1891 at the age of 89.
There’s not an amazing story here that I’ve yet found, just a family which seemed to stick together, but I’m intrigued as to the work that Isaac Brett did. He looks like he was a hard-working shoemaker, especially as he was employing several men, but I’ve yet to find out much more about him. Hopefully, I’ll return to this in the future…..
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Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Henry Brett)
Since I’ve been grounded again by the Government, I thought I’d meander around the Rosary Cemetery located near to me in Norwich, in an attempt to see what stories lie there. It might not be the most fascinating blog content, but it’ll keep me quiet for a few weeks….
Unfortunately, there’s not much story to be told here. But, on the grounds that I might find something else in the future, or someone might tell me more in the years to come, this is what I know so far.
Henry was baptised on 27 October 1797 in Swaffham, the son of William Brett and Elizabeth Brett.
He was probably married (by probably, I mean I’m not sure it’s the right person, rather than this being some kind of half marriage) to Ann Reynolds in Plumstead by Holt church on 19 October 1819. If this is the correct couple, neither of them could read or write, which wasn’t uncommon, but suggests a background of limited money in the families.
In the 1841 census, he’s listed as living on Mousehold Heath, along with his wife Ann, their daughter Elizabeth and two 15-year olds who I don’t know the link to, Ann Royall and Edward Fake (I think the transcriber might be wrong on that name, but I can’t read it either to improve on it).
Henry passed away on 4 May 1844, at the age of 47 years old. The Norfolk Chronicle duly reported this, adding that he was a farmer in Thorpe Hamlet. The gravestone has been attacked by foliage or weeds over the decades, so the bottom half is too hard to read.
So, annoyingly, that’s it for the moment, but I’m intrigued by who this farmer was on Mousehold Heath and where exactly he lived.
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Micro-Adventures (Norwich)
Unfortunately, the whole lockdown thing has meant that Nathan and I haven’t made much progress with our GeoGuessr project. That’s picking a random place using GeoGuessr and then just going there using public transport, wherever in the UK that place might be. The aim is less the destination, more the journey. We’ve only done two, but the idea of finding a story anywhere has worked out so far.
Since I can’t go very far at the moment, that reminds me that I should try something vaguely similar by walking (no needless travel during lockdown….) to some places that I’ve been meaning to go for a while. And then seeing if I can possibly find a story from the journey there, which might be pushing it, but we’ll see how we go. If I can’t, the story will entirely be about the destination.
With the help of the listed building map, I’ve found these scheduled monuments and/or listed buildings. My plan is to walk to these separately over the next few weeks, so:
(i) Old Lakenham Parish Church (hence why there’s a screenshot of Lakenham as the image….)
(ii) Earlham Cemetery
(iii) Remains of St. Bartholomew’s Church
(iv) Boundary Cross on Drayton Road + Standing Cross at St. Mary’s, Hellesdon
(v) Intwood Church
(vi) Cringleford Bridge
(vii) Tumuli at Eaton Heath
I had wanted to visit a Saxon cemetery, Second World War listening post and other sites that were scheduled monuments, but they seem inaccessible without straying off footpaths. And I don’t want to be doing that just at the moment…
I’ll come back to this page and link these walks in when I’ve done them (and they may be incredibly boring, but there we go…..).
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Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 223
The Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue was first published at the end of the eighteenth century, and given that the current health crisis is giving too much time to read books, I thought I’d pick a daily word from it until I got bored….
Nix
A very short and sweet definition, meaning simply “nothing”. Grose is one of the first people to define this word, so it is listed as being from the late eighteenth century when he published his dictionary, but it was likely in use much earlier. It’s a derivation of the German word “nichts”, which has the same meaning.
Using Google Ngram’s full time frame over several centuries, the word has remained in relatively constant use. The earlier dates are statistically probably erroneous though. As an irrelevant aside, I’m surprised that this word didn’t become more mainstream and didn’t slip into the vernacular.
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Scottow – Scottow Cemetery (Alan Towle)
This grave at Scottow Cemetery commemorates the life of Flying Officer Alan Towle. His address is listed as St. George’s Avenue in Bridlington, but he was married to Barbara Towle, who lived at Fern Cottage, Lower Street in Horning.
Towle died at the age of 24 on 29 December 1953, when his aircraft crashed at a location between Darlton and Tuxford in Nottinghamshire. He was flying in a De Havilland Venom Jet, a relatively new aircraft that was still being launched across the RAF, replacing the Vampire Jet.
The Yorkshire Post reported an eye-witness who said:
“I was half a mile away on the top of a hill when I saw the plane flying low. The pilot appeared to be trying to make a forced landing. The plane, however, suddenly lifted sharply and rocked, and having lost flying speed crashed and burst into flames”.
The newspaper added:
“Another eye-witness, Mr. H Murdock, a farmer, of Darlton, said ‘the pilot was thrown clear of the blazing portion of the plane, but still trapped in some wreckage. One of our men, Reg Turner, ran up and pulled the pilot clear, but he was already dead”.
The Aviation Safety web-site has more information on what went wrong on that night:
“DH.112 Venom NF.2 WL829 was first flown at De Havilland’s at Chester on 11/08/53. On 29/12/53 the aircraft had been collected from 48 MU at RAF Hawarden, Chester, for delivery to 23 Squadron at RAF Coltishall, Norfolk. While en route on the delivery flight, the pilot reported that he was experiencing difficulty with the engine and could not get more than 5,000 rpm from the engine, with consequent reduced power. The pilot therefore decided to divert to RAF Worksop in Nottinghamshire.
He then next reported that the engine problems were getting worse, and he would not be able to make RAF Worksop. He then decided to attempt a forced landing into a field 2.5 miles north-east of Tuxford, Nottinghamshire. On final approach, during this attempted emergency landing, the nose of the Venom lifted, the aircraft stalled and crashed, diving into the ground at a low altitude and killing the pilot.”
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London – Westminster (Borough of) – White Horse
This isn’t a recent visit, I went to this Nicholson’s pub in Soho back in August, when things looked a little more hopeful for the hospitality industry…..
I like pubs which have signs explaining their history, including why so many pubs have the name ‘The White Horse’. Incidentally, there are lots of pubs called ‘The Black Horse’, many of which are named after Dick Turpin’s horse because of the mystery and intrigue that caused. In short, this pub was rebuilt in 1939, replacing the earlier 1718 pub of the same name, and the exterior of the new building has some Art Deco features.
Everything felt safe and there was a staff member at the front door welcoming customers and taking them to their seats. I visited in the early afternoon and it did get a little busier, although the outside seating area was always busier with customers people watching (on my visit I preferred sitting inside phone watching in case anything exciting was happening on social media).
I have to add here that Nicholson’s gave this pint away to me via a promotion on their app, so I can’t much complain about the range of drinks. But, there were no dark ales and another customer later asked for the same, we were both told that they had Guinness and that was it.
This was the Nicholson’s Pale Ale (made for the company by St. Austell Brewery), perhaps just a little unexciting, but drinkable with a depth of taste to it at least. Nicholson’s seem to have a habit of pushing drinks that aren’t beer, instead particularly advertising gins and other spirits, but they do have some marvellously historic pubs in their estate that are worth visiting in their own right.
As an irrelevant aside here, I’m moderately confused why the pub has this on the front page of their web-site:
“It’s only 12 minutes on foot from Bond Street Underground Station.”
It’s also only four minutes walk (according to Google) from Oxford Street underground station, which is on the same line and around the corner from the pub. Strange…
Anyway, most of the recent reviews are positive and the staff here were friendly and helpful. Food is a bit richly priced, but the White Horse focuses on their selection of pies which is part of the Nicholson’s aim to push a certain style of food in each of their pubs. I’m not entirely sure I’d return here as the beer selection isn’t really exciting enough (even before the current restrictions) in an area with plenty of competition.
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Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 222
The Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue was first published at the end of the eighteenth century, and given that the current health crisis is giving too much time to read books, I thought I’d pick a daily word from it until I got bored….
Nigmenog
This word is defined by Grose as “a very silly fellow” and it was first being used towards the end of the seventeenth century. The phrase lingered on in usage until the mid twentieth century, at which point it seemed to become mostly obsolete. There’s a similar word which is used with more racist connotations, although that appears to have different etymological roots (although may have been a legacy of this original word that was repurposed), but might explain why this word would now be very difficult to use now and is one that will never come back into common usage.
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London – Kensington and Chelsea (Borough of) – Brompton Cemetery (Ernest Wedgwood Harper)
This is the grave of Ernest Wedgwood Harper, located at Brompton Cemetery in London.
Ernest was born in Burslem on 21 May 1898, the son of Ernest (born on 11/04/1865) and Florence Mary Harper (born on 16/09/1872). He went to Middleport Council School and Longport Council School between 1911 and 1912 and he then went to Hanley Municipal Secondary School between 10 January 1912 and 15 July 1916. He took the Oxford Local Seniors Honours Exam (a system of external grading) where he received a third class award.
At the 1901 census, the family were living at 179 Newport Lane in Burslem, an area of the city which has now been heavily changed and most of the residential properties demolished. At this point, he was aged two years old and he had a little sister who had just been born, Dorothy May.
At the 1911 census, the family had moved to Grove Pit, Green Lane in Wolstanton, with the older Ernest working as a school teacher. There was a new addition to the family, Byron, who was aged 2 at the time of the census.
Leaving school at 18 in Burslem, Ernest might have felt a long way from the military action when signing up. He joined the third battalion of the Grenadier Guards as a guardsman, service number 28840. It appears he did see some service in France in 1916, but there were medical problems with his heart and he was sent back to London and was admitted to Tooting Hospital. He was readmitted to his unit, but instead took on clerical duties and wasn’t going to be sent back to the front line.
The story becomes endlessly sadder here, on 24 July 1918 Ernest shot and killed himself at his rifle barracks. An inquest found that he feared that he had spotted fever, but the doctors had told him that he hadn’t despite numerous tests. Florence, his mother, went to the inquest and told them how Ernest had been a clever boy and the family were very proud of him. The verdict was announced by the inquest of “suicide during temporary insanity in consequence of valvular disease of the heart”.
One can only speculate about the mental challenges that Ernest went through, clearly scarred by the conflict and perhaps having no other way of dealing with the worries about his own medical condition. I’m not sure that his service records survive, but perhaps he experienced significant trauma in France and he would be one of many who did.
At the time of his death, Ernest was part of no.8 company, 5th reserve battalion of the Grenadier Guards, with his parents living at The Grove, Wolstanton, Stoke-on-Trent. It must have been a traumatic event for his mother to travel to Westminster to attend the inquest. Ernest’s family didn’t have any connection with the area, but he was buried at Brompton Cemetery because he had died at the nearby Chelsea Barracks.
As an aside, Ernest’s little brother Byron was married in 1934 and their parents were there at the marriage ceremony. As was Ernest’s sister Dorothy May, who was the bridesmaid to the bride, and I wonder how much they thought about the one member of the family who hadn’t made it. Byron lived until 1988, remaining in the Stoke-on-Trent area.
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Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (William Ford + Emily Ford)
Since I’ve been grounded again by the Government, I thought I’d meander around the Rosary Cemetery located near to me in Norwich, in an attempt to see what stories lie there. It might not be the most fascinating blog content, but it’ll keep me quiet for a few weeks….
I nearly gave up with my researches into this family, as I was struggling to find anything of much interest relating to William Ford and his wife Mary Ford. That is, except from the very sad nature of the lives mentioned on the gravestone. Mary Ford, William’s wife, died in 1845 at the age of 58, having already lost their daughter Lucy in infancy, but then their children Hannah and Marianne both died in 1846, at the ages of 18 and 17 respectively.
I also struggled to work out where this couple lived in 1841, as I found a census record, but Mary was listed as Lucy, so I assumed it was a different family as there were no children and they only lived with their housemaid Emily Stacey. Although, everything else fitted together. William Ford worked as a shoemaker in Norwich and had premises at Colegate Street, St. George’s and he lived at Heigham Cottage.
Given the lack of obvious story, I thought I’d abandon this one, until I paid attention to the name of Emily Ford at the base of the gravestone. Emily was born in 1823, which didn’t quite make sense to anything in terms of being a child or sister of William. It then transpires that she was William’s second wife, marrying him in 1852 and living with him until he died on 23 October 1858.
Emily died on 20 December 1881, at the age of 59, and she appeared in the 1861 and 1871 censuses with her occupation being listed as living off property income. But then, something about that strange 1841 census came back, namely I realised that William had married his much younger housemaid. That’s quite impressive, marrying someone who is thirty years younger, but I wonder what Mary Ford would have thought about this arrangement.
Emily died when living at 32 Queen’s Road in Norwich, where by all accounts she lived a life of such comfort. Her death was reported in the local paper, noting that she was the relict (the archaic word for widow) of William Ford, but giving no more information. And, once again, I do wonder what Mary would have thought that her former housemaid would end up sharing a grave with her.
