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  • Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (James Andrews)

    Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (James Andrews)

    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 found this grave a little difficult to read (and I can’t make out the bottom section), but it commemorates the life of James Andrews, the son of Richard (born 1786) and Ann Andrews (born 1788). James was christened at St. Michael Coslany Church in Norwich on 14 August 1814, a church which is now redundant but is still standing.

    James died on 14 August 1837 (the same date as his christening), at the age of just 23, and he was buried on 18 August 1837, with his death record noting that he was a dissenter. His burial here was one of the cemetery’s earliest, and his family wouldn’t have had much choice as they weren’t members of the Church of England congregation.

    James died a few years before the first national census, but in 1841, his parents lived alone at Charing Cross, by St. John Maddermarket in Norwich. In 1851, they were living on Pottergate Street in the same part of Norwich, this time with Sarah Ann Cordy, who was listed as their 30-year old daughter and a widow.

    By the time of the 1871 census, Ann was still alive, living at Lame Dog Road in Norwich with her daughter, now listed as Sarah Ann Johnson, and her two grandchildren Richard Frank Johnson and Fanny Johnson. This was because, in 1851, Sarah Ann had married a Francis Johnson, from Redlingfield Hall.

    Something has gone wrong in my telling of this story so far, as I don’t know why Sarah Ann Cordy was living with Richard and Ann in Norwich back in 1841. She wasn’t their daughter, so I had wondered whether she had married their son, James Andrews. But, I can find no record of that. Which gives me a problem in trying to picture who would have stood at this spot when James was buried, certainly his parents, Richard and Ann, but I’m unsure who else might have been there. And, I can find nothing about the life of James, just when he was born and when he died (but no knowledge of why he died), a total lack of a story which I find quite saddening. Hopefully, someone somewhere knows more…..

  • Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 217

    Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 217

    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….

    Myrmidons

    This is, at first sight, a rather exotic definition for Grose, which he notes means “the constable’s assistants, watchmen, etc”. I’m not an expert in Greek mythology, nor indeed do I have any real knowledge about it at all, so I’m reliant on Wikipedia to tell me:

    “Myrmidons were an ancient nation of Greek mythology. In Homer’s Iliad, the Myrmidons are the soldiers commanded by Achilles. Their eponymous ancestor was Myrmidon, a king of Phthiotis who was a son of Zeus and “wide-ruling” Eurymedousa, a princess of Phthiotis. She was seduced by him in the form of an ant. An etiological myth of their origins, simply expanding upon their supposed etymology—the name in Classical Greek was interpreted as “ant-people”, from murmekes, “ants”—was first mentioned by Ovid, in Metamorphoses: in Ovid’s telling, the Myrmidons were simple worker ants on the island of Aegina.”

    So, the meaning used by Grose is entirely correct and appropriate, with it being easy to see how it evolved to be used for the police. Given this word isn’t easy to spell, nor actually that easy to pronounce, I’m moderately surprised to see that it lingered on in terms of its usage for quite so long.

    The word does though have a long history in English, meaning a sub-ordinate or loyal follower and it was in usage in the medieval period, so it’s not a new word coming into the language.

  • Scottow – Scottow Cemetery (Illegitimi non Carborundum)

    Scottow – Scottow Cemetery (Illegitimi non Carborundum)

    This ‘Latin’ phrase was on a relatively recent grave in Scottow Cemetery, and I’ve never heard of it, but it’s apparently in relatively frequent usage. It’s not an actual Latin phrase, just a deliberately badly corrupted version of it, and it effectively means ‘don’t let the bastards grind you down’. The phrase was first during the Second World War and I’m not sure how I haven’t heard of it before…..

  • Scottow – Scottow Cemetery

    Scottow – Scottow Cemetery

    I’m not sure that I’ve been here for over thirty years, this is the combined parish and war cemetery at Scottow. I remember when visiting as a child the slightly confusing nature of the war graves here (more of which in later posts) as there were servicemen buried here from all over Europe, including from the German military.

    The cemetery and mortuary chapel were opened in 1902, I assume as Scottow Church had no more spaces for burials.

    War graves from RAF Coltishall were placed here until September 1943, when space became short and then those who died were laid to rest in North Walsham church. Later on, further military burials returned here and continued to be until the airfield’s closure a few years ago.

    As an aside, it was tradition for new air bases to be named after the local railway station, but RAF Buxton wouldn’t work because of the similarly named town in Buxton. Instead they went for another nearby railway station, choosing Coltishall as their air base name. This is why the air base was never called RAF Scottow, even though the site had previously been known as Scottow Aerodrome before the RAF got there. Buxton and Coltishall railway stations still sort of exist, but they’re now on the Bure Valley heritage railway line which operates between Hoveton & Wroxham and Aylsham.

    A purchase of some more land has recently been made and this is the new cut through into this additional space.

    This is the new space that has been opened up for future burials, which should prove sufficient in size for at least another couple of generations. There’s something quite peaceful about this spot, and there was in many ways even when RAF Coltishall was operating. Perhaps there was something quite appropriate about former airmen being buried so near to the landing strip of a military airbase, but tranquility will hopefully now take over.

  • Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Edward Nursey)

    Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Edward Nursey)

    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 gravestone commemorates the life of Edward Nursey, who was born in 1864 and this interested me because of the reference to the Metropolitan Police.

    At the 1871 census, Edward was staying (or living) with his aunt and uncle on Unthank Road in Norwich, along with an Elizabeth Nursey. She is also listed on the gravestone and I think this was Edward’s mother. He seems to have been living with another aunt and uncle at the 1881 census, on Surrey Street in Norwich. He left though to work for the Metropolitan Police and the National Archives web-site shows he started work on 12 March 1883 and was warrant number 67553. It also appears that he was briefly a detective in the Special Branch in 1887, just a few years after that had been started.

    Edward is listed as giving evidence at the Old Bailey a few times, including reporting on the finding of a dead child when he was a sergeant at Hampstead police station in 1890. This was one of the most notorious crimes of the late nineteenth century and Edward was a key police witness in the trial of Mary Pearcey.

    At the 1901 census, Edward was working as a sergeant in the Metropolitan Police and was lodging with Henry and Susan Carey at their house at 59, William Street in Woolwich, London. This street is still there, but is now known as Calderwood Street and the properties along it have been demolished over the last 100 years.

    Edward died on 2 February 1903, aged only 39, at this point still working for the Metropolitan Police. And why he died, I don’t know, although he wasn’t killed in the line of duty.

  • Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Isaac Wiseman)

    Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (Isaac Wiseman)

    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’m not normally drawn to these larger monuments, as they’re often of wealthier people whose stories have been told many times before. But, this is one of the handful of monuments which the cemetery have placed a little board by, so it would seem remiss to ignore it.

    The memorial is to Isaac Wiseman, who was a wine merchant who died in 1863 at the age of 64. What is perhaps of most note is that he had two wives and eight children who pre-deceased him, a terrible reminder of how high mortality was in the nineteenth century.

    Isaac was born on 25 February 1799, the son of Quakers William Wiseman and Ann Wiseman. Isaac married Sarah Ladell at St. Saviour’s in Norwich on 17 May 1821. In 1830, Isaac became the elected Sheriff of Norwich, beating Charles Middleton to the role and he married Caroline Amelia on 15 January 1856 in Kenninghall.

    But, all of this is already well recorded and can be found on a basic Google search. The story that is more interesting to me is what his brother wrote about him in the Norfolk News following Isaac’s death.

    “He was well known to many as a man of considerable natural abilities, and of scientific attainments and power above the ordinary level of his fellow-men.

    The position which such as one takes in religious matters is of deep interest and importance to all – to those who reject, and to those who receive divine revelation, and for each it has an outspoken testimony. Whatever former days may have produced, the latter days of a man’s life become a test of much significance – so it was with my brother. Whatever were his former opinions, his latter days were marked by a gradual approach to the gospel of Christ; and his last days brought forth proofs of his full and thankful acceptance of gospel salvation.

    I had watched the change which, for several years, was evidently passing in his inner life. This change was noticeable in what he frequently said concerning what he heard at the Sunday morning services at the Cathedral, which services he had attended, with great regularity, for several years before his death.

    During his last affliction I had the pleasure of being with him repeatedly. I watched with deep interest, not only what he said, but the look, and the tone, and the countenance, which accompanied those utterances. On the day that he died I had an interview with him in the morning. I had not seen him for ten days, having been from home. On taking my leave of him prior to that journey, I told him that I should not forget to pray for him. On entering his room on the last day of his life, I found his mind to be clear and vigorous, but his bodily sufferings were intense.

    After the usual salutations of such an interview, he took hold of my hand, and with a marked significance of voice and manner, and with an unmistakeable meaning in the grasp of my hand, he said “I have felt your prayers though I did not hear them; my sins are forgiven”. This all took place in the presence of his two servants, and a sister of his first wife.

    At twenty minutes past eight, on that evening, he closed his eyes upon all earthly things, and passed the barrier by which the dead are separated from the living until the morning of the resurrection.

    I am, dear Sir, yours truly, Samuel Wiseman. Mount Pleasant, Newmarket Road, Norwich”.

    It’s very rare to get such an account of someone’s final few hours, I doubt there will be many more like this amongst the thousands of burials at the Rosary Cemetery. I’m a little surprised that Samuel didn’t really mention the loss that his brother had faced losing two wives and so many children (although perhaps this was hinted at with Isaac moving away from God), but it was a touching letter describing the day. And, I feel that I know much more about Isaac from what his brother wrote than from any number of census reports…

  • Basildon – Campanile Hotel

    Basildon – Campanile Hotel

    This stay was a few weeks ago, before everything was shut back down.

    One thing I’ve noted is that motels don’t tend to do very well in the UK, there’s something that the British don’t seem to like about having open and external corridors. There was a little bit of a building frenzy of them in the UK in the 1960s and 1970s, but that ebbed away. They work well in the United States and they seem more common across mainland Europe, with Campanile being a French chain (and they seem to have lots of locations in Poland amongst others). Anyway, I stayed here as it was the cheapest option, I can eschew luxury.

    The room was actually clean and comfortable, although dated. The welcome at reception was one of the best I’ve had in a hotel, a very enthusiastic staff member explaining everything he could. So, there was nothing really wrong with the room’s cleanliness or the staffing.

    The plug sockets are hidden away, I can’t recall a sign in a hotel room helping customers to find them. This could, and probably should, be remedied even with the use of extension leads. They can be nailed in (not through the wire, even my limited electrical knowledge knows that) if customers keep pinching them.

    Hmmm, this lamp should have just been thrown away. This is doing nothing for the room.

    I was moderately puzzled at this. It is in keeping with what is being offered, a room with en-suite bathroom. But, I’m not entirely sure that it’s the best image to offer as the first thing a customer sees.

    The hotel has sunk to the bottom of the reviews and has collapsed its prices as well, which is usually a freefall for a location that it can’t recover from. The difficulty is that groups on a night out often book the cheapest option as they’re just looking for somewhere to stay. And, unfortunately, sometimes these groups cause issues for the hotel and their guests.

    And…. The hotel dealt with this little crisis well, it was a birthday party coming back which got out of hand very quickly in terms of noise. The police were called immediately (I assume by the hotel, although a guest might have reported them I suppose) and came in about six vans. The group were not the politest to the police, but the law won out here quite quickly. Anyway, this is just what the hotel didn’t need at 01:00 (although I quite like drama like this, as I was awake anyway), and this sort of problem is riven through its reviews. Along with the rooms which need refurbishment.

    But, the staff here seem determined to turn things around, with the recent reviews for their food being positive and customer service was way above average. Other than policegate, the location was quiet and everything was clean, so I’d stay again if I went back to Basildon. Although, I’m not sure why I’d need to go back to Basildon, but the town’s main attraction is just around the corner from this hotel.

  • Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 216

    Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 216

    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….

    Mumble a Sparrow

    This is another one of Grose’s particularly unpleasant definitions and although I hope it’s derived from a niche practice, I fear that it wasn’t. Anyway, it’s “a cruel sport practised at wakes and fairs, in the following manner: A cock sparrow whose wings are clipped, is put into the crown of a hat; a man having his arms tied behind him, attempts to bite off the sparrow’s head, but is generally obliged to desist, by the many pecks and pinches he receives from the enraged bird”.

    I was puzzled why this would be performed at wakes, but I’ve now realised that ‘wake’ was a word used in some parts of the country at the time for a festival or fair. I’m glad that Grose considered this as cruel in the late eighteenth century, I’m moderately surprised that this was ever seen as a exciting game to play.

  • British Slave Ownership Database

    British Slave Ownership Database

    This is a handy free web-site, run by UCL and located at https://www.ucl.ac.uk/lbs/, which has records of how much slave owners were recompensed for their slaves, as well as names of businesses which gained from the process. Some of the sums of money were enormous that were paid out, Benjamin Caractacus Patey, who once lived in Norwich, got the equivalent of around £250,000 for the loss of his slaves. Companies such as Greene King are listed and there are maps of some of the slave estates.

    It’s an interesting genealogical tool, although at the moment, it’s primarily of interest for finding out more about the slave owners than the slaves themselves. The project co-ordinators are though working on this for the next iteration of the project. It’s all been nicely put together as well.

  • Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (William Henry Watson + Ann Watson)

    Norwich – Rosary Cemetery (William Henry Watson + Ann Watson)

    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 would have been one of the first burials at Rosary Cemetery, William Henry Watson who lived from 1803 to 1832 and Ann Watson who lived from 1817 to 1844. William was also born into a non-conformist family, with the cemetery being one of the few options to the family at the time given those beliefs.

    William was born on 30 December 1803, the son of John Watson and Susanna Watson, in the St. Clement’s area of Norwich and he was baptised on 24 January 1804 by Samuel Newton who was a long-serving non-conformist minister. William died on 8 March 1832 and was buried on 13 March 1832, still listed as a dissenter.

    Ann Watson was William’s sister, born on 1 December 1817 and baptised on 28 August 1818. This baptism was performed by William Hull, a minister at St. Gregory’s Church who wrote numerous books on religious matters.

    And this story judders to a halt here, in a little run of my struggling to get much of interest beyond birth and death dates. Finding anything on William was always likely to be difficult, he was seemingly unmarried, died relatively young and before national censuses were taken. And there’s not much on Ann either, she died in 1844, but I can’t find her on the 1841 census. In addition, there are two more names on the gravestone, that of Mary Starling and Joseph George Flower, so there some stories here hidden ready to be uncovered at some point in the future….