Tag: 200 Years Ago

This news article appeared in the Norwich Mercury 200 years ago this week, although it had evidently taken them some time to hear of the news.

“In August last, on board the Honourable Company’s ship, Vansittart, on his passage from Bombay to China, John Hammont Cooper, aged 17, youngest son of T. H. Cooper, Esq. late of North Walsham, most sincerely lamented by his family and friends.”

In situations like this, I find it intriguing what a young man from the North Walsham area would have been doing travelling from Bombay to China at this time.

The Vansittart was a merchant ship owned by the British East India Company and at the time, although for not much longer, they had a monopoly in terms of their UK trade with India and China. The ship had launched in 1813 and John Hammont Cooper went on its seventh voyage.

The ship left Downs (a shipping area of the North Sea) on 9 January 1825, bound for the Cape, Bombay, and China. The ship reached the Cape on 13 March, and Bombay on 31 May. It left Bombay on 11 August, and arrived at Whampoa, Hong Kong, on 1 October 1825. That was the section of the journey that Cooper didn’t complete.

John Hammont Cooper had been born on 24 December 1807 and was baptised on the following day which was quite festive. He was the son of Thomas Hammont Cooper and Mary Vernon. The family don’t appear to have been hugely wealthy, although they did own some land in North Walsham.

Thomas Hammont Cooper was a Captain-Lieutenant in the Norfolk Militia Western Regiment, a rank now abolished and this was more of a Dad’s Army type set-up in case the French invaded North Norfolk. However, Thomas wrote two books on infantry and military work, so he must have had some military knowledge.

One thing I’ve never much thought about, as this doesn’t impact on my daily life, is how many people would be on one of these ships. It seems that they might have a crew of 100 people and would take 50 or so passengers, although the numbers varied widely. Unfortunately, the crew and passenger lists aren’t available for this journey, so it’s not clear to me whether Cooper was a passenger on some commercial trade, whether he was crew or whether he was some sort of military presence on board.

But, either way, this must have been some considerable adventure…..

Some excitement from 200 years ago this week in the Norwich Mercury. This advert reads:

“New brewery back of the Fountain Inn, Saint Benedict’s, Norwich. A. Kidd, ale and table beer brewer, informs his friends and the public that he has opened his new brewery as above, where they may be supplied with ale and table beer, and strong ales for draught or bottling. The strong ale brewing is conducted entirely on the Edinburgh system, therefore it is expected that an ale will be produced from the malt of this county equal in strength and flavour to any imported from that city, and at much less expense to the consumer. To meet any immediate demand A. K. has brought a stock of October strong ale from his establishment at Beccles. Private families supplied, in quantities of not less than four gallons and a half.”

The Fountain Inn was once an important Norwich pub which opened in the 1750s, but in a rather sub-optimal manner, was demolished during Second World War air raids.

The brewer responsible here was Archibald Kidd and he had his operations at the back of the pub until 1840, when he sold his brewery off. Kidd had previously been living at Primrose Cottage, the Score, in Beccles and he might well have had his brewing operations there before his big Norwich move. Strong Ale, or Scotch Ale, was quite a punchy beer, although there’s more about that at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_Ale.

Back to my series of articles from the Norwich Mercury 200 years ago, with this being the report of the sentence of death recorded against Clark Horn. Clark had been born in 1802, the son of John Horn and Mary Horn of Methwold.

There’s something of a brutality about all of this. However, views were changing in 1826 and the death sentence was clearly not working as a deterrent. It was reported in the Norfolk Chronicle of 6 May 1826 that Clark Horn had been removed from Norwich Castle and sent to the Leviathan prison ship.

Then on 7 October 1826, Clark was put on a ship, the Midas, to New South Wales and he arrived there on 15 February 1827. There were 148 prisoners on that ship and 61 of them had life sentences, although Clark’s punishment had by then been reduced to 16 years imprisonment.

He didn’t turn up again in the records until 1843 when it appears that he died in the area of Bathurst, New South Wales. His father, John Horn, missed all of this as he had died in 1808, but his mother, Mary Horn, would have known of the transportation as she died in 1830. It must have been a strange world for Clark Horn and I wonder if he lived an isolated life in one of the work camps. I can’t see that he had any descendants and that makes me wonder about just how many people might have thought about the life of Clark Horn since his crime….

Back to my series of posts from 200 years ago, I think it might be useful to touch upon the brewery arrangement run by Thomas Massey. He advertised in the Norwich Mercury in March 1825 with this text:

“Thomas Massey, Ale and Table Beer Brewer and Maltster, St. Stephen’s Gates, Norwich. Most deeply impressed with a sense of gratitude for the support which he has received & which he continues daily to receive from his many Friends in the city of Norwich and county of Norfolk, begs thus publicly most respectfully to offer them his sincere and heartfelt thanks, at the same time assuring them his constant endeavours shall be to vend a beverage genuine in quality and pleasing to the palate. Families supplied with Malt and Hops.”

This was the St. Stephen’s Brewery which Massey operated and it was trading from the 1820s. He was still going into the early 1840s and by then he was brewing from the newly opened Champion pub (which is still there and I visited last year), which he appeared to own. In 1844, he decided that he would sell his entire operation off and that included the brewery, malting house, surrounding buildings and some land as well.

In 1899, following the death of Charles Crawshay, there was an interesting article in the local press which touched upon this brewery.

“It is with deep regret that we record the death of Mr Charles Crawshay, of Hingham, who passed away on Wednesday evening, after a very brief illness. The deceased was in his usual health on Tuesday, and enjoyed a long drive in his carriage in the forenoon, but shortly after his return he was suddenly seized with paralysis, which terminated fatally. Mr Crawshay was in his 85th year. Born at Rowfant, Surrey, the deceased gentleman, at the age of 18, went to the London firm of Messrs Charrington, Head, and Co., to undergo a three years training in all that pertains to a brewer’s business. In 1845 he took charge of his father’s St Stephen’s Brewery, Norwich, and in 1850 entered into partnership with Mr John Youngs (Youngs, Crawshay, and Youngs).

In 1876 by a maiden bid of £30,000 at auction he secured the Diss Brewery, which has since proved a valuable adjunct to the Norwich Crown Brewery, which latter has been recently converted in a limited liability company. For the greater part of the century Mr Crawshay has been a familiar figure in the county, and the older inhabitants of Norwich well remember his style and dash. He was one of the best “whips” in the neighbourhood, and the manner in which he handled his four-in-hand team was indeed a sight to witness. He subsequently turned his attention to yachting, and in 1852 his boat, the Kestral, won prizes at Cantley and Coldham Hall regattas and at Yarmouth water frolics. In 1856 he married Miss Cubitt, a relative of Sir William Cubitt, who constructed Lowestoft Harbour. The following year he served the office of Sheriff of Norwich, and received the thanks of the city for his services and hospitality.

On removing to Hingham in 1858 Mr Crawshay went in for farming, and gained considerable fame as a breeder of Southdown and cross-bred sheep. A keen sportsman, he was a big preserver of game. His love of sport is inherited by members of his family. His connection with politics was but slight, but he held that a parson should under no circumstances take part in magisterial affairs. By his death the poor of the district have lost a generous friend.”

In the early 1820s, the British public was gripped by a peculiar form of gambling fever orchestrated by Thomas Bish, someone who seemed quite a character to say the least. The advert above was in the Norwich Mercury from 200 years ago, although the lottery arrangement was a national one.

Bish was the most prominent lottery contractor of his day and he turned the sale of state lottery tickets into a massive marketing spectacle. Operating out of offices at 4 Cornhill and 9 Charing Cross in London he managed to get his whole lottery system sanctioned by the state. He put bold ads in newspapers, such as the Norwich Mercury, he created eye-catching handbills and used humour in his adverts. He was ahead of his time.

The era of these grand lotteries came to a close in 1826 when the Government finally abolished the state lottery as it didn’t suit their needs. Bish did not go quietly as he campaigned vigorously against the ban and even managed to get himself elected as an MP for Leominster twice although his first win was unseated because of his Government lottery contracts. Bish advertised that it would be the last ever lottery conducted in the Kingdom, but then in the 1990s, John Major came along and introduced the National Lottery once again.

This is a court case from 21 July 1886, when John Gayford, a 19-year old labourer, was tried in the Guildhall in Norwich with the judge being Baron Pollock.

The crime was sexually assaulting a six year old girl for which he was found guilty and sentenced to six months hard labour for his offences. This seems unduly lenient to me from today’s standards, but one substantial change is that they were merrily naming the poor girl who had been assaulted. To give some context, and although it was a repeat offender, the court the same week gave a criminal twelve months hard labour for stealing 14lbs of plums.

The victim was Nellie Baldwin and in an earlier hearing it was decided that although the only witness to the crime was a five year old boy, the courts accepted that they would take his evidence into account. Nellie, aged six, her five year old friend and a baby in a pram all went out together for the day. When the group returned home, Nellie explained what had happened and a police doctor was called. Some of the case relied upon it must have happened as she was physically hurt and how else would a little girl be able to describe what had happened.

John Gayford went on to become a self-employed gardener, he married Rosanna and they had two children, Rosa and Florence. Someone guilty of his crime today would have likely left the area after they were released, but at the 1921 census he was living at 20 Northumberland Street in Norwich, just a short walk from where the crime took place. He lived there until his death in 1942 and I imagine that just about everyone not directly impacted by the crime had forgotten about it, in those days when searching for information was somewhat harder.

Another another article from 200 years ago this week in the Norwich Mercury from 1826.

“Sir,
In no part of the kingdom is careless driving carried on to so great an extent as in the neighbourhood of this city—and permit me (through the medium of your widely circulating paper) to caution the public against such dangerous practices, as I am determined, as far as lies in my power, to put a stop to them. As a single proof of the extent to which careless driving is carried to, I can assure you, Mr. Editor, that in the short distance of one mile and a half, in the parish of Wymondham, I saw no less than five men riding in their waggons, out of which number four were at full trot. I am determined to lay informations against every person I find offending.

Your most obedient Servant,
W. WILSON.

Bank Place, Norwich.”

Some things never change, whether men have access to carts or cars, some will speed…..

And back to 200 years ago this week in Norwich….

“NORFOLK LUNATIC ASYLUM : The Visiting Justices of this Establishment have long had reason to complain that several of the PATIENTS sent to the Asylum have been, at the time of their removal, in a state of dangerous Illness, and some of them actually in a Dying condition, who have not survived their admission but a very few days; and a case has recently occurred where a Female Lunatic was removed from a considerable distance, in the last stage of Disease, who died within two days after her reception into the House, the Visiting Justices therefore think it incumbent upon them to caution Overseers against these unjustifiable proceedings in future, as upon a repetition of such conduct legal measures will be resorted to for the punishment of the Offenders.

Dated this 28th day of February, 1826.

W. SIMPSON,
Treasurer of the Asylum.”

And here’s the early welfare state system in action, where money has been raised to look after those with mental health issues at an asylum, but local parishes have been sending whoever they can to stop them being a problem to them.

The overseers in these parishes were tasked with managing the poor laws, although there wasn’t a great deal of money around and there was already some tension about who should be funding this. And there were extreme financial pressures as unemployment was rising, populations were rising and suffering was increasing. The joining together of parishes to provide workhouses was a handy way of hiding poverty, but I can imagine the keenness of the overseers to use the county asylum as a way of removing people from their parish.

I’ve posted numerous times before about just how bad mental health must have been at this time, they were very regular articles in the press in the 1820s about suicide and self-harm, but in the main, there must have been a lot of people struggling that had nowhere to go for help.

As an aside, the building is what became known as St. Andrew’s Hospital, although it opened in May 1814 as the Norfolk County Asylum. It remained in use as a mental health facility, later becoming part of the NHS in the 1940s, but closed in the 1990s following a move towards care in the community.