200 years ago this week in the Norwich Mercury, it was advertised that James Page and his brewery had financial troubles and so a number of pubs were put up for sale. One of them was the Red Lion in Hindolveston and the newspaper article for this venue read:
“LOT 3. A Public House, in Hindolveston, called the Red Lion, with Stable and other Out-buildings, Yard Garden, and Land belonging, containing three acres more or less, now in the occupation of Sarah Clifton widow.”
The building was purchased by the Fakenham Brewery and then later on that became part of Bullards and they operated this pub until 1963 when it was permanently closed down. I’m not sure when Bullards took over, but in 1871 there was an auction of 13 pubs and this was one of them, so it might have been then. One of the problems that so many country pubs have today is that their land has been reduced down, which stops them either renting land out, using it as a campsite or maybe constructing buildings which might help them finance their operations. I imagine that the three acres that this pub had in 1826 was sold off longer before the pub closed.
And this is it today, what is now a private rental property known as Carwood House. The frontage hasn’t much changed from when it was a pub, with an old photo visible at https://www.norfolkpubs.co.uk/norfolkh/hindolveston/hindorl.htm. This feels like a traditional country pub, it would be quite intriguing to see what it was like 200 years ago when it was sold…..
This was in the Norwich Mercury in June 1826 and that £10 is quite a fine, that’s something like £700 in today’s money and it appears that he didn’t pay it. The prison at that point was the House of Correction which closed in 1837 and is now the site of the Norwich Catholic Cathedral. The House of Correction was at the same site as the City Gaol but it was a different institution, albeit run by similar management and these were originally intended for the punishment and reform of people convicted of lesser offences such as vagrancy, disorder, petty theft, drunkenness, breach of local regulations and similar misdemeanours.
There were too many William Pastons in Norwich at this time to be able to find out more about him, but I’m guessing that he took rum in for a friend or family members. And the result of that little arrangement was that he ended up imprisoned with them.
This is Jonathan Peel and 200 years ago this week he wrote to the Norwich Mercury to inform them that he intended to stand for Parliament in the constituency of Norwich.
“TO THE GENTLEMEN, CLERGY, FREEMEN, & FREEHOLDERS OF THE City and County of Norwich.
GENTLEMEN,
A most flattering and unexpected honour has been this day conferred upon me. I have received a requisition, to which names of the first respectability are attached, calling upon me to present myself at the approaching General Election as a Candidate for the high honour of representing the City of Norwich.
In the absence of all local connection, I certainly should not have presumed, without such a requisition, to aspire to that distinction; but understanding that one of your present Members has publicly notified his intention to retire from Parliament, and being assured that the public principles which I avow are in unison with those maintained by a very large portion of the body which I have now the honour to address, I will not hesitate in gratifying to my feelings, and made to me in a manner which acquits me, I trust, of the charge of presumptously offering myself to your notice.
As I shall solicit your suffrages on the ground of public principles alone, you will justly expect from me an explicit declaration of those principles.
I know not, Gentlemen, in what terms I can better describe my general opinions upon political subjects than by the simple assurance, that I am a true friend to the Constitution in Church and State.
I was taught, from my earliest infancy, to venerate those ancient institutions which constitute the Government of the Country in which we live—I was educated in those sentiments, and experience and reflection have only served to confirm the impressions which were first received from example and authority. My voice shall be given, if I shall ever have a right to raise that voice in Parliament, for the maintenance in matters of Government, of that order of things which I find established.
I am opposed to Reform in Parliament. And in what is usually called Catholic Emancipation I feel it my duty to offer a firm and decided opposition, unmingled however with any feeling of rancour or hostility towards those of our fellow subjects more immediately interested in that question.
I have probably said enough to explain to you the general tenor of my political principles. If you should think me worthy of the distinction which I seek, I promise an unwavering attention to every thing connected with the local and peculiar concerns of the City of Norwich, with the promotion of its Manufacturing Interests, and the advancement of its general welfare.
I have the honour to be,
Gentlemen,
Your obedient humble Servant, JONATHAN PEEL. Marble Hill, Twickenham, 4th May, 1826.”
Jonathan was the younger brother of the Prime Minister, Robert Peel, which probably helped matters somewhat in terms of being found a constituency in which to stand. He had no links to Norwich though and he was against reform and Catholic emancipation so he was hardly the most radical of candidates. This didn’t stop the electors of Norwich voting him in, although the constituency had two MPs at the time and the other elected was William Smith who was a Radical and who wanted abolition and Parliamentary reform. I note his polite words, and still today it is more dignified to say “I have been asked to serve” than “I rather fancy becoming an MP”.
Jonathan, if I might call him that, lost the Norwich constituency in 1830, although he then moved to be the MP for Huntingdon between 1831 and 1868, later serving as the Secretary of State for War on two occasions. It all goes to show that actually being local was less important to electors back before the Great Reform Act, although it’s fair to say that there was a lot more corruption and backhanders going on back then compared to today (well, in theory anyway).
200 years ago this week in the Theatre Royal Norwich there was a performance of the play Paul Pry on 20 May 1826. The theatre had reopened in late March 1826, so this performance advertised in the Norwich Mercury would have been one of the first in the new shiny building.
Paul Pry was a comedy that had become the theatrical sensation of the decade, so it’s not a surprising choice that Norwich Theatre Royal made to put it on. The play, written by John Poole and first performed in 1825, had become something of a public obsession, like an early day Inbetweeners. Well, maybe not quite like that and more like Ever Decreasing Circles, but the catchphrase “I hope I don’t intrude” became a popular refrain that lingered in the national vocabulary for some time. By the time this play was put on the audience knew at least what they were getting.
The character of Paul Pry is fundamentally unlikeable and a man without boundaries or self-awareness. For this performance, the provincial theatre here in Norwich was nicely on-trend, the cultural excitement had moved fast in the days before the railways had reached the city. There’s a pub called Paul Pry in Rayleigh in Essex which is a reminder of this piece of cultural excitement, although it’s operated by Greene King so I won’t add anything further on that. I can’t see that the play is performed any more, but perhaps there’s a need for a comeback at some point….
This advertisement appeared in the Norwich Mercury on 20 May 1826:
“HOUSE WARMING, At the Crown Inn, Swaffham, Norfolk, On MONDAY, the 5th of June, 1826. Dinner at Four o’clock. To which MR. BIRD respectfully solicits the attendance of his Friends.”
I’ve never much thought about the heritage of house warming until I saw this in the newspaper of 100 years ago this week. However, it appears that the term itself comes from an era when houses genuinely needed warming. The practice is medieval in origin and when someone built a new house or took over an existing one, friends and neighbours would be invited to the opening ceremony. Rather than bringing a potted plant or a bottle of wine (well, craft beer now), guests would contribute something rather more essential, namely firewood. This led to the optimal situation of a warm house and a social gathering included at the same time, all rather handy for those who like people.
As for this little party at the Crown Inn, it was hosted by the former military man James Bird who was to run the venue until his death in 1832. The Crown Inn had been Swaffham’s principal hotel and social hub in the eighteenth century, serving as a meeting place, exhibition hall, ballroom, auctioneers and occasional courthouse. It was first documented in 1648 and Emma Hamilton, Nelson’s mistress, entertained here on numerous occasions. The inn closed in 1879 after which shops occupied the site until its demolition in around 1952, with the new building housing Salters shoe shop (1956–89), Breakers clothing (1990s), and eventually the Sue Ryder charity shop from 1992.
I wonder what was at this dinner, it sounds like a fine arrangement, although at least they had access to plenty of beer. I’d note though that the buildings on the site today look like a pale imitation of the once quite grand inn.
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.
