For our latest executive lunch in Norwich, James suggested chaiiwala, which it transpired was yet another one of his good ideas. Chaiiwala is a British chain of Indian street-food cafés which started in Leicester in 2015 and has since expanded across the UK and has now reached Canada and the UAE. Its signature drink is karak chai, a rich, milky spiced tea, served alongside food including curry bowls, naan wraps, snacks and desserts. It’s an arrangement that I very much liked the sound of when I saw the options.
The external menu board shows the range of food and drink available, with the prices seeming to be quite reasonable.
The counter area was neat and organised, with a friendly team member coming over to help. He talked me through the loyalty scheme arrangement and so I signed up immediately, with James tutting behind at the wait, and I noticed that there are numerous offers available.
The dessert counter.
I didn’t notice this initially as I’m not always very observant, but there were self-service kiosks and customers could also order using the QR codes on the tables.
A little bit of localisation, it shows willing.
Not all the tables were free from food debris and empty plates, but this seating area at the front looked clean and comfortable.
The team member shouted out the order number and I went to collect my butter chicken rice bowl and chicken tikka pasty. It came to just over £11, which didn’t seem unreasonable considering the amount of food that was served. I was surprised and delighted by this arrangement. The chicken was tender, the basmati rice was well cooked and there was plenty alongside it, including a chickpea and potato salad, crunchy house slaw and spinach. The spinach added colour, the slaw added texture, the rice added body and the chicken added some spice. I liked the variety of textures and tastes, which made this a more interesting bowl of food than I’d expected. The chicken tikka pasty was also generously filled, with gently spiced chicken inside a pastry that had enough firmness to hold everything together. Ordering a pasty alongside a substantial bowl of food had proved an entirely sensible decision on my part.
James went for the Wala Box which was £10.95 and got him a chicken wrap, a Punjabi samosa, loaded chicken fries and a chilli & garlic dip. I can say that he was surprised and delighted as well, there was plenty of food here for the money and he commented positively on the flavour. He’s often hard to please in terms of food, so this was rather lovely.
Someone came in with some food from a nearby restaurant and sat at the front near us, then decided to play her music loudly on her phone. The team members noticed relatively quickly and they dealt with this in a sensitive manner, namely reminding her that she should actually order something. She left soon afterwards.
Anyway, this was better than I expected and I liked the whole set-up. The push towards getting the app is clever, especially as that opens up a series of deals. I am quite likely to come back to try their Bombay fish and chips, it sounds suitably interesting. Definitely a sensible and inspired suggestion from James and we left having achieved everything on the agenda, which was lunch with perhaps a little gossip.
I mainly associate London Street in Norwich with Greggs, which probably says more about my interests than it does about the street. This fragment in the medieval gallery at Norwich Castle Museum offers a rather different story about London Street. It might not look that decadent at first glance, but it’s a limestone mould dating from between 1200 and 1300, found in London Street and showing a scene from the Massacre of the Innocents. There’s a considerable amount of history beneath somewhere I generally visit in search of a sausage roll.
The subject comes from St Matthew’s Gospel. After learning that Jesus had been born as the King of the Jews, Herod orders the killing of boys aged two and under in Bethlehem. The mould depicts soldiers carrying out that slaughter, so it’s not the most cheerful of arrangements.
The subject has an uncomfortable connection with Norwich’s own medieval history. In 1144, a boy called William was found dead in woods outside the city. His death became the basis of a false accusation that Norwich’s Jews had murdered him as part of a religious ritual. A monk at the Cathedral Priory, Thomas of Monmouth, subsequently developed the story in his account of William’s life and miracles. This became the earliest recorded medieval blood libel, with similar false allegations later spreading across Europe.
The biblical account and the story constructed around William are separate, and this fragment doesn’t establish that its maker or owner had any connection with William’s cult. What it does do is to provide a surviving example of the religious imagery circulating in the city. Stories of innocent children being killed could be powerful sources of devotion, but Norwich’s history also shows how an accusation of child murder could be directed against a living community as it doesn’t take much for hate to spread.
There’s a further local connection in seeing the object inside the Castle. Jewish residents took refuge here during the anti-Jewish violence of 1190, when others were killed in their homes. The building in which I’m looking at this fragment was itself a place of protection for people threatened by persecution. That makes the history feel rather closer than it might in a display somewhere else.
Left to my own devices, my professional archaeological assessment would have been that it was a bit of stone. Knowing where it was found and what it depicts connects it to streets I know and a part of Norwich’s history that deserves attention. It’s a rather lovely reason to spend a little longer in the museum.
I accept that I’m now entering my occasional rather niche series of posts although, to be fair, I’m rarely in danger of going viral. Anyway, I’m accustomed to looking at objects in museums and readily accepting that I’m not supposed to touch them. This little ivory carving in the medieval gallery at Norwich Castle Museum adds a further complication, as it was specifically intended to be kissed which all seems a little frivolous. I limited myself to taking a photograph, which seemed the arrangement most likely to meet with everyone’s approval.
The museum notes that this was made in the Netherlands between 1475 and 1525 and this is a pax board. Its name comes from the Latin for ‘peace’, and during Mass it was kissed by the priest before being offered to members of the congregation to kiss in turn. It passed on the symbolic kiss of peace through a shared object, giving worshippers a physical part in the ceremony. I suppose that would help keep them awake and it was a rather more demanding form of participation than putting something in the collection plate. These tablets could be made from various materials, including wood, ivory and precious metals.
The carving shows the Virgin Mary and the infant Christ being visited by a shepherd, with a Latin inscription meaning ‘Glory to God in the Highest’. The infant lies at the bottom of the scene enjoying a little nap. I rather admire the carving, but someone attending Mass five centuries ago would have encountered it very differently. It was brought to them as part of worship, something familiar that they could approach and kiss.
There’s a comparison here with Orthodox Christian worship, where icons are kissed as an expression of devotion. Some are protected by glass, so the kiss lands on the covering rather than directly on the painted surface. The glass allows that physical gesture to continue while protecting the image beneath. I’ve seen this regularly on my travels and it always looks like a very different form of worship to what I see in western Europe.
I wonder how many people kissed this particular board, and what was occupying their minds as they waited for it to reach them. We have a date range, a place of manufacture and the carved scene, but very little of those individual encounters. For an object now sitting quietly behind glass, it once had a remarkably sociable role. But, for me, I’d rather just give a little respectful nod, I can’t be doing with all this raucous behaviour.
After having had a few hours in Valletta it was time to get back to the airport.
I appear not to have any photos of the bus other than this one, but I was the only passenger as apparently most people stay in hotels before getting a flight rather than sit excitedly at an airport terminal.
Back at the airport and the temperature was suitably moderate.
I’m still not entirely used to seeing Norwich as a destination at airports, but there it is at 05:50. The departures area was very quiet, but there were several late incoming aircraft, so the arrivals area was actually relatively busy. The buses here don’t run throughout the entire night, so that might have been an expensive taxi fare for some passengers.
Another flight at 05:50 was to Rzeszów, which is the only one of the top twenty cities in Poland by population size that I haven’t been to before. This is clearly an administrative omission which I will need to address.
#goodbyemalta….. I always take a photo of this sign when leaving Malta so I thought that I’d continue the habit.
I had time to visit the La Valette Club lounge.
It’s one of my favourite lounges and they certainly make an effort with the presentation.
The lounge wasn’t busy at just after 03:30, which is perhaps not a surprise. I appreciated everyone else’s willingness to stay in bed.
Spacious and quiet, with plenty of power points.
The food was plentiful and looked suitably appetising.
Oooh, pea cakes! These are known as pastizzi tal-piżelli and they are my highlight of this lounge. I don’t normally have hot food for breakfast, but there was some burnt bacon so I grabbed all of that. The lounge were fortunate that someone with my particular bacon requirements had turned up.
Pepsi, non-alcoholic beer, bacon, pea cake, banana, orange juice and an espresso. How lovely.
I don’t take photos of the border control area as it’s neither permitted, nor particularly interesting. It was poorly managed here and my flight was boarding before many of the passengers had got through the border processes. The signage told passengers on the 05:45 to go through border control, but it didn’t tell passengers for the 05:50 to Norwich until relatively late. As I was on a non-Schengen flight I went through the border at the same time as the Glasgow passengers, which was fortunate as I saw numerous stressed passengers.
Safely at Gate 12 and I wasn’t there long before boarding commenced.
The Ryanair aircraft was EI-EBZ, which I haven’t been on before but that’s not entirely surprising as I don’t take many flights with this airline.
The steps that fold back into the aircraft, I always feel the need to comment on these.
The seating Gods had given me a middle seat, but it soon became apparent that this flight was only around half full. This meant that there was never a need to give me a middle seat, so I moved to the aisle. Wizz Air doesn’t tend to do this in my experience, if the load is low then they don’t seem to fill the middle seats. One element I’ve never quite understood, which is unique to Ryanair in my experience, is that the seat numbers don’t line up properly with the seats. Several passengers found themselves in the wrong seats, although the crew resolved the issue promptly.
And safely in Norwich Airport, on time and with no issues.
The walk to the shed that is the airport terminal. It’s a large shed I admit, but a little decadence wouldn’t go amiss. The flight was £15, which is cheaper than the train from Luton to Norwich, so this was a handy arrangement. I didn’t have any complaints about the flight, the crew were friendly, the aircraft was clean and there was no unnecessary drama.
And that was the end of another trip. I walked back home, via a little refreshment break at the Whiffler pub for several coffees. I felt it important to adjust gradually to the change in coffee prices.
The second monthly Indian restaurant meal took us to Wymondham and many thanks to Roy and Jen for driving Steve and me there, whilst Richard was able to thank himself for driving himself.
SUMMARY OF EVENING:
Number of people : 5
Richard sneezing incident : Nearly
Drama : No
Number of people late : 0
My slightly wonky photo of the interior.
I took the initiative to order everyone two poppadoms as I like to be helpful in these circumstances. The lime pickle was chunky and punchy, the onion was oniony, the tamarind was a little mainstream, the mango chutney was fruity and the raita was smooth and cooling. The latter was quite useful after each mouthful of lime that I took.
Richard had a ginger dish and I think that was wise as although there was nearly some sneezing, he managed to just pull it back from the brink. Steve was in good form answering questions from Jen about cars and I still think cars don’t need pedals and I am unanimous on that. Roy and Jen didn’t argue, which came as a slight disappointment, with the company being all very lovely.
Roy was getting through his Cobra slightly faster than I was managing mine, although I had the administrative burden of recording it on Untappd. Now, I accept that Roy has a similar issue, but I like to have a photo of food and a full pint with my carefully considered Untappd post. Roy just bungs them up. But he’s like that, laid-back and calm.
Back to the food. The Chicken Pakora was OK, but the batter was a little dry and lacking in taste, although the chicken inside was tender. The salad was fresh, but I felt that this needed some sort of sauce to go with it. The portion size was generous and I was debating at this point whether I had over-ordered.
I ordered the Ceylon chicken curry, which promised some heat, with basmati rice and a peshwari naan. The curry is on the left on the warming plate and my naan is on the right, above Steve’s. The portion size was generous and my initial concerns that the curry sauce looked a bit bland were soon removed when I discovered that it had a decent spice hit. I like curries that are hot and spicy, this one felt well measured and met my expectations. The naan was soft and fluffy, with Jen commenting that it was one of the best that she’d had. This was certainly all above average, everything was hot and there was a depth of flavour to the food.
I’ve never thought about the hot wipes having the option of being chilled for a fresh sensation. A versatility which I hadn’t previously demanded of a small wet towel, so I was impressed.
Anyway, I liked this restaurant as it was clean, the service was efficient and the prices were very reasonable for the quality of the food offered. The general feeling was that the food quality was high and that this was a solid choice for our second expedition out. The service was perhaps over-attentive at times and we were asked multiple times if the food was OK, but that’s not a complaint, the requests seemed genuine. I managed to finish the entire meal and I’m not expecting praise for that achievement, it’s just a comment that the food was sufficiently tasty that even when getting full I didn’t want to leave anything.
The next Indian meal is in Norwich in early December, the location has yet to be decided as I like to build suspense and temptation. And maybe some drama.
It’s been a while, but it was back to playing in the league this week and we were away to the Coach and Horses. I was pleased that we were playing with seven players, but Ivan had to pull out as he was very tired indeed. That’s the problem with getting older, one missed nap and it’s all over. I’m actually reluctant to mock this too much with my own fiftieth birthday approaching as it might shortly become team policy. We were also without the stalwarts Terri and Kirsty, but we did have the moral support of Sue.
The league is hotting up whilst we plummet down it. Not that I’m overly concerned about actually winning anything, it would be nice not to come last. I accept that someone has to, but I’d rather it was someone else as I’m generous like that.
I didn’t play in the home match earlier in the year, so this is both the first time that I’ve played the Coach and Horses and the first time I’ve ever played in their venue in a competitive match. Unlike Luke and I, who run a very tight ship, their team had forgotten a team sheet but I liked the alternative that was quickly drawn up. I approved of this sensible approach to paperwork, although I would have preferred them to be less organised once the games started. They’re a friendly team and I liked that they didn’t take the whole evening too seriously, I’m an advocate that it should be fun. Annoying sometimes maybe, but still fun.
I decided to referee an early game to help me learn the table a little. I’m not sure that this plan entirely worked, but I liked to think that I was doing something useful. I was quite annoyed when the food arrived during the second game, which I was refereeing, as that distracted me a little, but I decided not to say anything. But, it is difficult to maintain an impartial interest in a game when the buffet is proceeding without you.
We had Vaughan and PJ playing first, so I was confident of an early success as they’re competent and talented players. Anyway, we lost the first two games.
I moved to a more comfortable table and that happened to be the one with the food on it. I like coincidences and I thought that was a positive omen.
Very nice.
Luke the Lion won his game and that was never in doubt in my mind, so that brought us back to 2-1. Mel was too powerful for Ian, but then the boy wonder Ben came to the table. He is definitely not ever leaving the Artichoke Hearts, his score of 1290 contained some really rather optimal shots. I hoped some of this ability might transfer to me through proximity. My subsequent game suggested that it hadn’t as I didn’t play well, albeit against a very good opponent, so we were 4-2 down going into the doubles.
Even the dynamic father and son team couldn’t edge to victory. Losing the first two doubles ended our hopes of winning the match.
I’m pleased to note that Vaughan and I managed to win some dignity back with the final game of the night. I was also pleased to finish unbeaten in games whose outcome no longer mattered. At least Sue had the advantage of being able to distance herself from the result, which was sensible planning.
Anyway, a very lovely evening and thanks to George and his team for a welcoming night, good food and slightly too professional bar billiards. As ever, we were gracious in defeat, helped by having had several opportunities to practise recently. And we’re now second from bottom with two games to go, but what could possibly go wrong?
It’s easy to think that the current problem of shoplifting, which feels like it’s getting out of control, is something new. However, the crime pages of the Norwich Mercury from 200 years ago this month are full of the latest robberies that had taken place in the city. Norwich wasn’t necessarily a safe place to live at the time, violent crime wasn’t rare and thefts were common. The newspaper reported in November 1826.
“On Tuesday evening, about six o’clock, some villain entered the bar, at Mr. Callow’s, the Golden Cann, St. George’s Colegate; his daughter hearing the door go immediately went, and saw a man drawing the till from the counter, when she instantly called out—oh! you thief! the man ran with the till just outside the door, with about six or seven shillings’ worth of copper, and three sixpences in it, but being closely pursued he dropped it, with its contents, and made off. Two more of the gang were seen near the door.”
There were apparently three men involved, which seems a generous allocation of staff for a theft that got no further than the pavement. But, the element that amuses me the most is that there’s something particularly vivid about the daughter’s shout surviving in print for two centuries. It makes the incident feel surprisingly immediate, although I suspect the trail has now gone a little cold.
The venue, which sat at the junction of St. George’s Street and Alms Lane, had been a licensed premises since the early nineteenth century, originally a Crawshay pub and then subsequently part of the Youngs & Co estate. Unfortunately, the pub didn’t survive being bombed in April 1942 and a decision was made not to rebuild it as licensed premises.
This is a little niche (well, very niche really), but I rather liked this letter published in the Norwich Mercury 200 years ago this week.
“To JEHOSAPHAT POSTLE, Esq.
SIR,
On reading your Letter I consider not only the Yeomen are indebted to you, but the whole Landed Property of the county, for the services you have therein rendered them, in bringing to light an attempt of certain Magistrates in the county, to impose a burthen upon them in an unjustifiable manner; I say unjustifiable, because the attempt is illiberal, oppressive, and degrading to a set of men, who are esteemed an ornament to the county, and who bear the great burthen of the county, not only in expence, but from the fatigue and trouble they meet with in employing and providing for the poor, the difficulty of which is only known to themselves.
In many parishes where the poor are numerous, they are little better than slaves, the burthen is inconceivable, and the expences enormous upon them; but are they to submit to be treated as slaves, by having a district surveyor appointed over them, to be at his call – to be at his controul; and for what, to put them to great inconvenience, as well as unnecessary expence, most unwarrantable, because unnecessary and uncalled for.-The attempt has surprised many gentlemen, who can not see what could be the motive of those magistrates.
Every one must know the improvident improvements that have been made on the roads in this county during the last twenty years, and that they are now entirely under the controul of the magistrates; they appoint who they please to be the surveyors in the different parishes, and order any improvements they wish to be made in any parish as they please. What would they wish to do more?
Are not those magistrates aware of the heavy expences there have been in the county for many years past, and still continue, for the Asylum and for the New Gaol? And do not those magistrates know the dreadful situation the yeomen were placed in only four years back, from the great depression of the produce of the land, from the heavy burthen of the poor, and other charges upon them, to the entire ruin of hundreds of families? and that a vast number that did survive those difficulties, by the assistance of their friends, are still in a distressed situation; and are not those magistrates aware, though this unpleasant burthen is aimed at the yeomen, that ultimately the burthen must fall on the landlord!
For as a Noble Lord wisely remarked in the House of Commons, on the heavy expence on agriculture, it must fall on the land, for the rent of land was only a residue; it could be no more, for first the labourer must be paid – the tithe must be paid – the tradesmen’s bills must be paid, and the poor must be maintained, and the landlord could only have what was left.
The appointment of these district surveyors would prove an evil and nuisance far greater than any thing that could have been invented, and are calculated to break the peace of the county. I hope those magistrates will recall what they have done, and set the county at rest; not inflame the minds of the industrious yeomen, who are already heavily burthened, nor degrade them by tyrannical and arbitrary oppression, but keep them as lambs, and as they have ever been deemed, quiet and ready to submit to any burthen that has been put upon them.
The farmer has been compared, by a worthy member in the House of Commons, to a sheep that would suffer itself to be stripped of every thing. I recommend the magistrates not to irritate them, by degradation and oppression, for they have already as much burthen as they can well carry. It will be found bad policy to break them down, for they will find it far better to keep them as sheep, to be shorn every year.
You will now please to accept my most heartfelt thanks for your exertions in behalf of the county, which the yeomen and many others will never forget were made in their behalf.
I am, Sir, your most obedient humble Servant,
A LAND OWNER.”
This splendidly indignant letter in the Norwich Mercury of 11 November 1826 is addressed to Jehosaphat Postle and signed simply “A Land Owner”. Jehosaphat Postle was a prominent figure in Norfolk’s agricultural affairs, identified in an 1826 publication as chairman of the Norfolk Agricultural Association. He had also been elected president of the East Norfolk Agricultural Society at its foundation in Norwich the previous November. The letter was therefore addressed to someone already involved in representing agricultural interests, which helps explain the writer’s rather enthusiastic thanks for his intervention.
The writer’s immediate focus is the attempt by Norfolk magistrates to appoint district surveyors to oversee roads. It’s fair to note that even today any talk of changing the arrangements with roads will be met with resistance and probably some comment about potholes. The writer thanks Postle for exposing the proposal, then describes it as oppressive, degrading and liable to disturb the peace of the county. I feel that perhaps this fear might have been a little exaggerated, but I like an angry letter to start debate.
The surveyor in question was responsible for highways, rather than measuring fields or examining properties. Road maintenance involved a slightly complex patchwork of parish responsibilities and turnpike trusts, with magistrates exercising supervisory powers. There were also obligations to supply labour, horses and carts, or payments in their place, so maintaining roads could take farmers’ resources as well as their money. The writer says that magistrates already appoint parish surveyors and direct improvements. He therefore sees district surveyors as another layer of expense and authority, with farmers expected to be at an official’s call.
Before the Poor Law reforms of 1834, relief was largely organised through parishes and financed by local poor rates. Farmers could contribute both as ratepayers and as employers of agricultural labourers, making unemployment a concern for their businesses and their parish finances. The writer argues that they already carry an intolerable share of this responsibility, particularly where the number needing assistance is high. His description of farmers as “little better than slaves” is a rather extravagant assessment of their position. I wonder whether the poor in the parish would have entirely agreed with his account.
He then widens the complaint to include expenditure on the asylum and the new gaol, presenting the surveyors as the latest demand on people already paying for expensive county institutions. Complaints about allegedly wasteful officials and excessive public spending. The correspondence pages have retained some familiar themes. He claims that farmers have barely survived one financial crisis before the magistrates arrive with another improvement to be paid for. He also argues that any extra costs imposed on farmers will ultimately leave less money available to pay their landlords. The signature ‘A Land Owner’ becomes rather relevant at this point.
The ending is perhaps the most revealing part. Having warned the magistrates against provoking industrious farmers, he urges them to keep these men quiet and compliant, like lambs. He then develops the comparison, arguing that it is better to preserve sheep so that they can be shorn every year than to break them down altogether. It’s quite an ending for a letter written in defence of farmers.
Until relatively recently, there were two Prezzo restaurants in Norwich, but both closed when the company started to shrink its estate. In 2023, Prezzo closed nearly fifty restaurants across the country, a third of their estate. But, they’re now making a comeback and they are opening at Riverside, part of a plan to start expanding their chain again.
They’re offering 50% off meals for a couple of weeks after opening to anyone who signs up via their website. Unfortunately, when I tried to sign up, the form said “we are not accepting responses” which is a rather sub-optimal waste of a marketing opportunity. As an aside, their new logo feels rather dated already, I’m not sure what was wrong with the old one. I suppose consultants needed to make a mark and checking the sign-up form was presumably outside the brief.
Anyway, it’s positive to see a chain making use of the former Pizza Hut, which closed in October 2025. Although I still want Riverbank to make a reappearance, I’m quite partial to all you can eat Chinese restaurants. I might try the form again nearer to opening, as although I had expected some restrictions on the offer, excluding everyone seems unusually thorough.
An article which caught my eye from the Norwich Mercury which was published 200 years ago this week.
At one o’clock on Tuesday 14 November 1826, the subscribers to the Norwich Association for Assisting in the Detection and Prosecution of Criminal Offenders were due to gather at “the Hall in the Market Place”. One o’clock precisely, according to the notice in the Norwich Mercury, so arriving late would at least have spared anyone the experience of hearing the organisation’s name read out in full. Behind that rather substantial title was a practical question. If someone stole from you in Georgian Norwich, who was going to investigate and who was going to pay to bring them to court?
The association was then just short of its first birthday. Charles Mackie, who compiled his Norfolk Annals from the files of the Norfolk Chronicle, dates its foundation to a meeting at Norwich Guildhall on 23 November 1825. The Guildhall had been busy that week. Two days earlier, the Norwich and Norfolk Law Library had met there to adopt its rules and arrange somewhere to keep its books. The prosecution association gets a single sentence in Mackie’s account, but he gives its full name, the date and the building. The Guildhall is therefore also the most likely setting for the following November’s meeting, although the Mercury assumed its readers knew which hall was meant.
The important word in the advertisement is “subscribers”. Bringing a prosecution in early nineteenth-century England often fell to the person who had suffered the loss. A victim might have to pay for notices, offer a reward for information and engage a solicitor, all before knowing whether anyone would be convicted. Prosecution associations spread those costs among their members. There was a deterrent in the arrangement too. A thief might reasonably reckon that one householder would think twice about pursuing a modest loss. A group of householders who had already put money aside for the purpose was a different proposition.
For an idea of how this worked in Norfolk, there’s a surviving handbill from Aylsham, where 41 subscribers formed an association in December 1786. Each put in ten shillings and sixpence, with further annual subscriptions of the same amount payable if the fund needed replenishing. A member whose poultry, wood or turnips had been stolen was to tell the treasurer. He could have handbills printed, offer a reward payable on conviction and place an advertisement in the Norwich newspapers. Even an accomplice could claim the reward for giving information, and the association promised to try to obtain a pardon for him. It’s important to be pragmatic when there’s the possibility of a large turnip theft.
Each society decided what its members’ money would cover. Aylsham’s original association expressly excluded horse theft, whereas the Fakenham Association Against Horse-Stealers had its rules printed in Norwich in 1782. In 1825, the very year the Norwich body was founded, a new Aylsham and South Erpingham association specifically included horse-stealers in its title. The Norwich subscribers chose the much broader wording “criminal offenders”. I’m not entirely clear how broadly they interpreted that wording.
By November 1826 the Norwich subscribers had a secretary, John Juby, who issued the notice from Bethel Street on 8 November. It appeared in the Mercury on Saturday 11 November, giving members three days’ notice of the Tuesday gathering. The city’s arrangements for dealing with crime changed considerably over the following decade. Norwich formed its police force in January 1836, following the Municipal Corporations Act of 1835. Even then there was a distinction between policing Norwich by day and by night. The daytime establishment had eighteen ward constables and three additional men under a superintendent, while the night watch had thirty-two men with another six available. By the 1840s the watchmen had been incorporated into the force as night constables.
The arrival of a professional police force may have reduced the need for the association, although I haven’t established when it ceased operating although the Fakenham Association for the Prosecution of Felons was still offering a reward in 1858, on that occasion for information about grapes stolen from a garden. That sounds like quite the most sub-optimal of crimes to have to endure. But I’d quite like to go back 200 years to go to this meeting at the Guildhall although I’d likely sit in the back in case I managed to end up as the comms officer.
