From the Norfolk Chronicle and Norwich Gazette from 200 years ago, I noticed this little advert:
“WHEAT SHEAF
Bethel Street, Norwich
John Woolterton, late of the Flower in Hand at St. Mary’s,
Returns his best thanks for the favors conferred on him in his late situation, and begs to inform his Friends and the Public, that he has taken the above Inn, the Wheat Sheaf, where he hopes to merit their support, by furnishing the best of wines, spirits and malt liquors, with a strict attention to the comfort of his customers, in the supply of good beds, stabling and a bountiful but economical table.”
As a side note, interesting to see that the spelling of ‘favors’ without the ‘u’ was still common. The Flower in Hand was run by John Woolterton between 1810 and 1822 and was located on what is now Pitt Street. It was damaged during the Second World War, repaired and then closed in the 1960s. The Wheat Sheaf on Bethel Street was demolished in 1936 to make way for the new fire station, which has now in turn been converted into a school. The wonderful George Plunkett was able to get a photo of the pub’s former stables in 1938.
And more importantly, he got a photo in 1934 of the pub just before it was demolished. By this stage it was no longer a pub and George Plunkett wrote:
“At No 14 was latterly the Idolene Manufacturing Company, occupying premises formerly the Wheatsheaf inn and retaining its sign above the door, moulded in plaster. It has been suggested that this was intended for a sheaf of barley, for the old Barley Market dating back to the reign of Edward I was formerly held in an adjacent yard. One of the chief attractions here was the skittle alley, but the inn also afforded stabling on the opposite side of the road for the accommodation of carriers. These stables in fact outlasted the inn, surviving until 1960 as lock-up shops, including those of a tobacconist and a secondhand furniture dealer. The inn itself was a Tudor building of several gables, and it was reported at the time of its demolition that certain of its oak beams were to be preserved at one of the city’s museums. There is no record that this was ever done.”
The pub is the one in the middle of the above image. It’s actually now under Bethel Street before City Hall and the Forum as the street line has moved a little, a rather unfortunate loss to the city as that area is now a little sterile. Anyway, once again, I digress.
In the latest in my series of posts from the Norwich Mercury of 200 years ago…..
“Singular Discovery – On Tuesday, as some men were employed in sinking a well upon a piece of land belonging to Mr. Sendell, situated within a hundred yards of the site of St. Giles’s gate, they suddenly found themselves over a vault when about 35 feet from the surface of the earth; naturally alarmed at such an appearance, they left their work until the afternoon, when they provided themselves with stronger tackle and proper implements for ascertaining the “depth below”, they soon found that no danger was to be apprehended in descending to explore the cavern, and accordingly proceeded with a supply of lights, and found very beautiful and extensive vaults, running in almost all directions.
Encouraged by this account, Mr. Sendall and some friends descended to view these unexpected excavations. The air was perfectly pure, and the soil, which is a fine solid chalk, quite dry and of snowy whiteness. On lights being placed at various turnings the appearance was extremely interesting; at what period these places were in use cannot be ascertained, as neither record or remembrance of them exist. They they are growing over the mouths of 60 to 70 years of age, yet the marks of the tools appear very fresh, and the stains of smoke remain in the small niches where lamps were placed by the workmen. A great anxiety to see them has been manifested by the public, and in order to gratify such curiosity we understand Mr. Sendell has waited upon our worthy Chief Magistrate for permission to exhibit them, which permission has been very handsomely granted, and the exhibition will commence as soon as a comfortable entrance can be effected at the front of the hill. It is a singular fact that many marine shells have been taken from the solid chalk in the sides of these arches.”
There’s a whole network of these chalk mines around Norwich which have caused some excitement over the years, not least when a bus fell into one near to the Roman Catholic Cathedral on Earlham Road. They were caused by mining for flint and chalk and plenty are still under the city centre, although many have also been filled or their entrances closed by nervous property owners and councils. The city council makes reference to these discoveries in their recent notes for the St Giles conservation area.
“It is believed that for several hundred years after the 11th century (and maybe earlier) the area was closely associated with chalk and flint mining. In 1823 an extensive system of tunnels were rediscovered under Earlham Road. They became a tourist attraction and candle-lit tours took people through various tunnels with names including Beehive Lane, Bacchus Street and Royal Arch. One cave was found to contain the inscription ‘John Bond 1571’.”
There is a map of the streets in the area from 1823, but I haven’t yet been able to locate a copy. Although tucked a little away in the Norwich Mercury, the discovery was certainly one which caused some general excitement amongst the denizens of Norwich. Urban explorers still try and find entrances to various chalk mines across Norwich, but I’m not brave enough to do that (there are limits to even my bravery).
Back to my series of posts about what was happening in Norwich 200 years ago this week. And, it’s yet another reminder of just how dangerous a city it was at that time, crime seemed to be rocketing and this is another example of the problems that were faced. The Norwich Mercury reported:
“On Sunday last an inquisition was held at the Workhouse, in the parish of St. Andrew, before Mr William Bell, coroner, on the body of Elizabeth Chaney, aged 19 years, who was picked up in the River Wensum, near Blackfriars Bridge. Septimus Sterey and John Plummer deposed, that they took the body out of the water that morning about 9 o’clock; marks of violence appeared on her face and blood on her cap. Jane Nixon, of the parish of St. Andrew, stated that she has known the deceased upwards of seven months, who, occasionally, came to her house to clean; that deceased was a very steady girl, and was a good character; had in her pocket, when she left witness’s house, one shilling in silver, which she had not had when found; deceased left between 10 and 11 o’clock on Saturday night.
John Cook, living in the Water Lane, in the parish of St. George’s Colegate, said he heard a scuffle in the lane about 11 o’clock on Saturday evening; went to the door, and saw a man and woman (cannot say that she was the deceased). The man appeared to use violence, and the woman ran away; the man followed her. The man had on a dark coloured coat and light trowsers [I like this old style of spelling trousers]. Jeremiah Sexton stated he lived in Water Lane; on the Saturday morning, sweeping there, found a pair of pattens near the staithe, and by the water side saw foot steps. Sarah Nixon deposed, that the deceased lodged at her father’s, and slept with her; knew the pattens to belong to the deceased by the strings, for she gave them to her.
The Coroner said, as there was no evidence adduced to prove how or by what means the poor girl came into the water, the Jury could return no other verdict than found drowned under very suspicious circumstances.”
As the Coroner hinted, this was a murder, but with no evidence to ever prove anything, but it seems to me to the worst of domestic abuse. I didn’t know what a ‘patten’ was, but it’s a clog or sandal. St. Andrew’s Workhouse, housed in St. Andrew’s Hall, was in operation between 1712 and the 1850s, before larger premises were constructed in Dereham Road. Also, Water Lane is now known as Hansard Lane. These were certainly challenging times for the city.
This small lane off of Fishergate goes down to the River Wensum and it separates the Church of Saint Edmund from what is today an NHS building, but was once a large sawmill site.
There’s a rather nice view of Norwich Cathedral when looking down Hansard Lane. Before it was renamed in honour of local Norwich man Luke Hansard (of Parliamentary printing fame) in around 1890, this street was more simply known as Water Lane. Here’s an article about what was likely a murder near Water Lane that was reported in January 1824.
In the latest in my riveting series of posts from 200 years ago, this was published in the Norwich Mercury in January 1824.
“On Monday evening some person or persons cut a hole in a papered pane of the shop window of Mr Steward’s repository, in Magdalen Street, and took through the same three bottles in japan ink. A similar trick was played a week or two since at the window of Mr Brown, baker, of the same street.”
I hadn’t heard of papered panes before, although having thoroughly researched the matter (looked briefly on Google), they seem to have been relatively common and were also a feature in the early United States (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greased_paper_window) for those who couldn’t afford glass or weren’t able to have anyone nearby who had the skills to make it. Indeed, glass windows in residential properties wasn’t much of a thing for the poorer classes until the early seventeenth century. Having paper windows certainly feels rather sub-optimal though, not least because some pesky people cut through them to steal stuff.
Anyway, I digress, more interesting posts to come.
The latest in my series of articles from the Norwich Mercury of 200 years ago this week. It’s crime related and just a short note that:
“Sam Garwood was sentenced at Norfolk Adjourned Sessions for stealing a piece of wood. He was sent to Walsingham Bridewell for three months.”
Interestingly, the courtroom is still there in what is a museum in Walsingham, although not one that I’ve visited. The Petty Sessions for the area were held there until 1974 and it’s one of those perhaps mistaken attempts by Government to try and centralise everything. The Bridewell was a separate building, constructed in 1787 and built along the lines of John Howard’s vision for a modern and reforming prison. It was built on the site of the former leper hospital and it was expanded in 1822 to add 16 more cells. In the year that Garwood was sentenced, five tread wheels for grinding corn were added and I assume that he was forced to use them. The Bridewell closed in 1861, but it’s still there and nearly untouched with access possible by getting the key from the Shirehall Museum. Indeed, I now want to go as I last went to Walsingham during partial lockdown and most things were shut.
As for poor Sam, it seems a harsh punishment, but he had been imprisoned the year before and perhaps the court took that into account. Indeed, there was a Sam Garwood who was imprisoned in the same area on 31 July 1843, so this whole prison thing didn’t seem to work (unless it was a different Sam Garwood). Unfortunately, there are a few Samuel Garwoods who were in Norfolk at the time, so I can’t work out which one it was.
And another in my series of posts from the Norwich Mercury of 200 years ago, this one was published on 13 December 1823, and it relates to the condition of the streets of Norwich. I rather like the picture that this article conjures up of the state of Norwich streets at the time, albeit clearly greatly improved in the years that preceded this article.
“The inhabitants and the visitors of Norwich must have (for some time past) regarded with no slight satisfaction the attractions which have been going on in various parts of the city. We well remember the anticipations of the friends of the act for watching, paving, lighting and cleansing our streets, and it appears to us the time is now come when the realisation of so much of what they prophesied is come to pass, that they have cause for triumph. Certain it is that many of the streets of the city are greatly improved: the shops are in themselves more elegant as well as more convenient, and the display of goods of all sorts is more varied and tasteful. The progress of things has, without doubt, effected many of these desirable changes, but no little is owing to the spirit of improvement, which, when once excited into action, is unlimited in its operation.
One present purpose however is not so much to speak of general as of a local alteration, which appears to be to be amongst the most beneficial the city has yet undergone. We allude to the striking improvement in the market and the streets adjoining. Never, we will venture to assert, has any thing been done since the passing of the Act (near seventeen years) more worthy of public regard and approbation, than this will be when its completion, which is nigh approaching, is effectuated. In tracing its progress, we observe that a sewer of considerable length and capacity has been made sufficient to receive the filthy tide of waters which formerly flowed on the surface from offensive private drains and channels, to the great annoyance and inconvenience of the inhabitants, and the utility of common sewers was never made more perceptible.
The pavement between White Lion Lane and Brigg’s Lane, which was of late absolutely unsafe for carriages, from its irregular surface, broken into deep ruts and holes, is now brought to a smooth and commodious level, with a spacious foot-way on its sides, and is indeed in no respect inferior to the best-paved streets of the metropolis. The Hay Hill, from its rude, mis-shapen and irregular form, intersected as it was by channels in all directions, and almost impassable, is now made of easy ascent, and perfectly safe both as a carriage-way and to foot passengers.
These improvements are continuing to Bethel Street. And here we are most forcibly struck with the metamorphosis which the public spirit of a single gentleman has wrought. It is within every one’s remembrance, that this street was amongst the vilest in the whole city – the houses dirty and squalid, the pavement all but impassable, while the wretched inhabitants of the adjacent yards and thoroughfares were of a description to reduce and almost annihilate the value of the few decent habitations the street contained. Since Mr Hawkes came to live in it, he has gradually removed every one of these objections; and while he has advantaged his own property, he has ornamented the whole length of the street, and set a noble example of what may be effected by a spirited individual. For the other improvements, the city is indebted to the contribution of £300 from the Corporation and the liberal subscription of £200 from the inhabitants of St. Peter’s Mancroft, which have enabled the Commissioners, who are always anxious to do their utmost, to effect the work.
Nor can we conclude our article without paying to Mr Rooks, the surveyor, the tribute that is due to his talent and attention. This gentleman has been resident here during a long and active life, and he has been employed in great public works and in many private undertakings, which, if less conspicuous, are scarcely less ornamental or less useful according to their degree. It is therefore with particular pleasure that we offer our best acknowledgements to him for he combines zeal with judgement and both with the feelings and the manners of a man of taste and talent.
This subject matter naturally leads us to something further. One of the most narrow and dangerous avenues to the market is the confined street called Brigg’s Lane. St. Stephen’s Street is greatly bettered, and wants but little to render it a good and open approach. Rampant Horse Street is still more spaciou, but those advantages are incalculably lessened by the existence of the insufficient passage which Brigg’s Lane presents. If we remember rightly, the Rev. Henry D’Oyley, a Clergyman of Hempnall, devoted some of the last years of his life to soliciting from parish to parish and from house to house a subscription for the purpose of enlarging this avenue.”
John kindly got in touch regarding Norwich Lower School, which is a little further down Bishopgate. This is relevant as pupils had to walk by the former Goldsworths Buildings to get to the football pitch near to the river.
There will be a longer interview in the new year on this, but John mentioned:
“The Lower School was built in the old fashioned style common to state schools in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, with high windows and a pitched roof. Think of it as an elongated rectangle divided laterally into three classrooms. The room nearest Bishopgate was the 2 J classroom (Mr Christopher Smith, known by us as Smithy), then Form 2 (Mrs Edith Stephenson, the headmaster’s stepmother, who we referred to as Ma Stevo) and furthest back was Form 1 (Mrs Spruce, known irreverently as Fanny – we had no concept of the more slangy meaning of this word as it is often used nowadays, it was just a female name as used by Jane Austen for Fanny Price). We were turned out at break times on to the School Field. The loos were also outside and froze up in the cold spells which happened every winter in those days, accompanied by snow and ice. The whole setup would have failed a modern school buildings inspection and the place was demolished after the next Lower School was built in (I think) the mid 1960s.”
I hadn’t known much about the old Lower School, which was replaced in either the late 1970s or early 1980s with the current building. There was an arson attack in something like 1989 which caused significant damage, but the general structure of the building was restored, although extended.
Unfortunately, the late and great George Plunkett doesn’t have any photos of the school in its current or former incarnation, so I’ll go on the hunt elsewhere for those.
Returning briefly to my series of posts from newspapers of 200 years ago this week…. This is from the Norwich Mercury and it’s an advert that was just a little intriguing, bearing in mind that ‘eructative’ means ‘belching’. It reads:
“W. GREENWOOD, Lobster Lane, Norwich.
Highly sensible and grateful for past favours, most earnestly solicits a continuance of the same, respectfully notifying to his friends and the public, that he has commenced making sausages for the season, assuring them that they are made of the best meats, and spiced in a process peculiar to himself, and possessing a flavour inherent in them the most delicious to the taste and depriving them of that eructative quality so unpleasant to the palate, which is generally the case after eating sausages. Are only to be had at his old establishment, in the Lobster Lane.
NB, home cured hams, blacked breasts, tongues, &c, having that delicacy of flavour and fine tenderness of texture for which they have been held up and so highly esteemed.”
As an aside, the &c is the old printing version of etc. The sausages of the early nineteenth century certainly seemed to have been of a dubious quality if this advert can be believed. Lobster Lane is the little stretch of road that connects Pottergate with Bedford Street, an area of the city where the Saxons were present as a kiln from that period was found on the street. The street, I assume, was named after the Lobster pub which was once located here. Unfortunately, I can’t find out much about Mr Greenwood, but I would have rather liked to try these decadent sausages of his.
I mentioned in a previous post for my two loyal blog readers that I was on razor thin timing for my flight, having left the hotel just 2 hours 30 minutes before take-off. I considered the reality that it might take over an hour to walk to the bus stop, get on the bus and then arrive into Heathrow Central bus station. In reality, it was 11 minutes. But, that meant one thing, I was safely at Heathrow Terminal 3 ready for my British Airways flight to Bucharest. For all of its faults, I’m still keen to use British Airways and I opted for them to get me to Bucharest. Steve had used BA the previous evening, whilst Bev, Susanna and Thim had decided that Ryanair was for them. Bev would use a cattle truck to get there if she could, but I’m surprised that Susanna and Thim weren’t a little more decadent. But, naturally, I didn’t say anything about the matter.
Back to the flight though. The boarding gate process was handled well, there was no wait and there was a seat whilst they called the groups forwards. All very organised and calm, this felt well managed. It’s always pleasant when the boarding process feels calm, sometimes it all feels a little chaotic and stressful.
Here we are on board. I say we, but I primarily mean me and the other passengers. It was an Airbus A320 aircraft, registration G-EUUF (although I need to check this, as two sites have different aircraft registration codes for this flight which I haven’t seen before). Assuming it was G-EUUF, BA have had this plane since new when they purchased it in 2002 and I don’t think it’s one that I’ve been on before (but my records are quite patchy, I didn’t know I was going to become interested in recording this for some time). Once again, I should really get out more…
One of the vestiges of my status with British Airways is that I can still book these for free, so I got an emergency exit row seat. I’ll be back to silver status early next year (the lowest status I can get which gives me lounge access), required given that I do like visiting the airport lounges as I get excited by free cans of Fanta. Also for my comfort, there was no-one on else this row which was quite handy. Especially given that Thim was reporting he had a somewhat less comfortable experience on the Ryanair flight he was on. The seating area was clean and everything worked as it should,
Satisfactory leg room and the cabin crew were pro-active and friendly. There were also working power points on the service which proved handy. The pilots were the usual middle to upper class sounding British Airways flight crew, sounding reassuring and competent. Not that other pilots aren’t competent, it’s just that the announcements made by British Airways crew seem to be so quintessentially British that it fits their brand well.
There were no delays on departing and the passengers all seemed sensible and efficient which meant no issues with people trying to shove large bags in awkwardly to the overhead lockers.
The free snack and water, which I still think is a positive touch rather than the previous effort they had which involved giving passengers absolutely nothing.
And safely into Bucharest, twenty minutes earlier than expected. There was little to report from the flight, which is a positive thing as too much drama on board is often sub-optimal. I had mentioned to Bev that I didn’t want her, Susanna and Thim waiting for me as they got in 90 minutes earlier, but that was good since they didn’t bother anyway. Once again, I didn’t comment negatively on that situation. On the matter of the weather, it looked just a little bleak, but the temperature was fine for my needs and the rain wasn’t too bad.
I won’t go on about the European Union as my thoughts on this are well known to my two loyal blog readers (and for anyone else, #iameuropean) and EU citizens were able to breeze through passport control. Those from the UK had a much longer wait which was sub-optimal. Anyway, I was again impressed with British Airways, everything worked as it should, everything was clean, the crew were friendly and the service was efficient. The flight cost £42 each way, which I think is very reasonable, especially as I used Avios from previous flights to reduce that to £24 each way. All rather lovely.
