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There are better photos online of Sovereign House being demolished, but here are a few I managed whilst walking past yesterday. Being away in Poland has meant that I’ve missed some of the more exciting parts, and the building is now coming down quickly. I hadn’t realised that being away would require quite so much catching up on the destruction of Norwich.
These photos are perhaps a little meaningless with the context from others in the series, but Gildengate House has been taken down with some speed since my last post of a few days ago. It’s just Sovereign House, the building in the background, that’s left now.
It still seems slightly strange to walk by the Anglia Square demolition site and see Gildengate House be taken apart bit by bit each day. There was a time in the 1990s that this was used to store the city archives after the central library caught fire, before they were moved to their current site at Norfolk County Hall. Anyway, some more photos……
Now that I’ve finally launched the monthly Indian meal around Norfolk and Lowestoft, several years after first considering it, we began proceedings at Roti in Norwich. There is a democratic process to the location of future meals, but I chose Roti as I had never been, I had heard positive things and it was centrally located. Richard kindly drove me to the venue, which has car parking behind the building.
SUMMARY OF EVENING:
Number of people : 7
Richard sneezing incident : Yes
Drama : Yes
Number of people late : 1
There was a friendly welcome from the staff and we were immediately seated at a suitable table for our group size. I decided that I wouldn’t query the spelling of lager and instead just merrily ordered a Cobra. I waver between beer and mango lassi at these things, but beer felt appropriate on this one. We were puzzled why Gordon got a different menu which had more decadent design and didn’t have a drinks page, but we assumed that’s because they realised he was wealthy as I had mentioned that. It’s a good test of how they deal with VIPs. Six members of the group were suitably early. Jonathan arrived late, although naturally we didn’t say anything.
The restaurant was quite sparsely decorated, which suited me as I don’t particularly like excessive decadence and bling, although Richard is a big fan of both. There were relatively few other customers, but perhaps that is usual on a Thursday evening. The building was originally the New Inn which dates to the 1860s, but was rebuilt in the 1960s. It closed in 2001 until it was converted to Choices video rental a couple of years later, becoming Roti Indian restaurant in around 2010.
It was decided, primarily by me, that we would have two poppadoms each and I was pleased that the chutney tray was of a generous size. I was being very brave as I was next to Richard and he likes to play with his food by throwing it about. Luckily, there were only minor incidents involving the venue’s clean tablecloth.
The tray included a crisp onion salad, a sweet chutney, a sweet chilli sauce and a mint sauce. The sauces offered a useful mixture of sweetness, freshness and gentle heat, with the cooling mint sauce proving my favourite. The chutney added some welcome texture, while the onion salad provided a sharper and crunchier contrast. I’m never sure why restaurants serve such vibrantly coloured accompaniments alongside white tablecloths, but I admire their optimism.
I’m focusing on writing about the venue rather than the people, but Gordon likes attention and so here he is reading the menu intently.
I went for the Chicken Tikka Palak with lemon rice and peshwari naan. The portions were generous, especially given the prices charged, and everything arrived suitably hot. The food looked well presented and I thought that the curry itself looked particularly appetising.
The chicken in the palak was tender and the spinach added some healthy goodness to the arrangement. The green chillies provided a noticeable but manageable heat without overwhelming the other flavours. The lemon rice had a distinct citrus character which lifted the richer curry, rather than merely offering the vague suggestion that a lemon might once have been stored nearby. The peshwari naan was soft, generously filled and pleasantly sweet, although I would have preferred a little more crispness around its edges.
There was a little confusion about one dish and that certainly added to the excitement when Steve realised he had the wrong one. I was focused on my meal though, so I didn’t get involved.
A particularly welcome touch was the complimentary drink offered at the end of the meal. It’s probably meant to be mainly spirits, but they were broad in their offering and so I had another beer. Gordon got himself another Tiger and so I kindly shared some of that. He was fine with that policy after he discovered I’d done it. Richard went for a whisky and I will note here that he didn’t opt for Bell’s this time and I make that clear because I got muddled up once and said that he was a big fan of it, whereas it appears it’s only an occasional treat.
Probably not helped by us, but the payment process was efficient as they had printed out a bill with everything itemised on it, which makes payment easier. The staff were friendly, engaging and helpful, so this is certainly a venue which I’d return to. I felt that the prices were very reasonable, the quality of the food was high and the surroundings were clean and comfortable.
To add to the excitement, we then voted on the location of November’s meal. I can reveal that we are going to Shapla Tandoori in Wymondham. Richard and I have since realised that we have been there before, but I think I can manage the considerable hardship of a repeat visit.
With Luke overseas again, living the life of a modern-day Judith Chalmers, I was required to serve as both captain and vice-captain. What could possibly go wrong? After successfully completing the draw, and thanks to Ivan for reminding me that I had forgotten to do the coin toss to decide who would break. I get muddled up.
I decided that I’d referee the first game and I was all ready with my beer and Hula Hoops, excited to see PJ winning to set us off on our winning ways. We’re the only team that the Red Lion have beaten all season, so I was confident we’d be able to get a victory on home territory. They had won the toss, so it was their team who would break in the first game.
My game was next and I managed to lose a break worth 460 points after an unfortunate interaction with our charmingly unpredictable table. As this was our home venue, blaming the equipment required a certain degree of confidence, but I recovered sufficiently to win and level the match at 1–1. Which reminds me, I must get Luke to re-level our table as that’s something that I’m not allowed to do.
Vaughan arrived and, after acquiring a beer, was sent directly to play his game. I felt that he would be in tip-top form if given as little time as possible to think about matters. My new policy of minimising the amount of time available for players to think had produced its first measurable success.
Vaughan was on tip-top form and put us 2-1 ahead, so my nerves started to settle a little. The vice-captain offered the captain no useful reassurance whatsoever.
Cal brought over the mid-game snacks and then fought in a close game before an unfortunate incident involving a miscue and the black peg where his score was wiped out. However, Cal got the biggest break of the game on our team, showing his natural talent. Ivan and Ian were unlucky and it suddenly meant that we were 4-2 down as we went into the doubles. My stress levels increased.
Ben, making his debut for the team, scored 200 with his first shot and immediately appeared substantially more competent than some of us who had been doing this for considerably longer. He will be allowed to play again. Actually, he doesn’t really have much choice, he’s on the team now.
Ben and Ian won before a highly competent Ivan and Vaughan brought us level at 4–4, leaving PJ and me to play the deciding game. Another unfortunate incident occurred which I shall not mention, but the shortened version is that we lost 5–4.
I think the absence of Luke’s carefully positioned mirror behind the table contributed substantially to the defeat. It had become detached from the wall for reasons that remain under investigation, and we are waiting for him to return from his latest holiday and restore it. It has been suggested that a civil engineer might need to oversee the matter next time.
We had come remarkably close, although the league table will show no interest in the emotional complexity of the evening. Many thanks to Tom and his team for a great evening and we look forward to returning to Coltishall next year. And we’re going to win that one. Definitely.
“The Churchwardens of the parish of St. Clement, in this city, summoned a vestry meeting on Tuesday last, at the request of the parishioners, to take into consideration the best means of detecting impositions on the funds raised for the relief of the poor, when it was agreed that six persons should be appointed to visit the poor of the said parish alternately, to ascertain the justness of their claims, and that the names of all persons receiving relief in the said parish should be printed, with the number of their families and the amounts they received. It is confidently hoped that if every parish was to adopt the same line of conduct, our poor rates would be considerably reduced for the next quarter.”
This short report appeared in the Norwich Mercury in September 1826 and describes what we might now call an attempt to investigate benefit fraud. Parishioners in St Clement had asked for a vestry meeting to consider possible “impositions” upon the money raised for poor relief. It was agreed that six people would take turns visiting recipients to assess whether their claims were justified. This was effectively a small team of local investigators, although without computers, central records or the opportunity to spend several months designing an official logo. But they had a mission to ensure that no-one was defrauding them.
The parish also proposed printing the names of everyone receiving relief, together with the size of their family and the amount they received. The methods would perhaps present certain difficulties under modern ideas about privacy and dignity, but the underlying combination of eligibility checks, home visits and a desire to reduce welfare expenditure feels remarkably familiar two centuries later.
This map shows the empty site in 1884, shortly after Norwich City Gaol was demolished. The land on what is now Earlham Road is today occupied by the city’s Roman Catholic cathedral, but 200 years ago this month the newly completed gaol was at the centre of a substantial argument reported by the Norwich Mercury. The dispute concerned alleged departures from the building contract, work that had apparently not been completed and thousands of pounds in additional charges.
The article reads:
“At the adjourned Sessions, on Wednesday last, Alderman Crisp Brown, we are given from authority to understand, spoke nearly as follows:—He said he had a painful task to perform; but as justice had been denied him in another place, he was obliged to bring it before the Court. Many tradesmen in the city had informed him there was something very improper going forward at the new gaol, with respect to deviations from the contract. He had at various times recommended that a surveyor of eminence, and a stranger, should be employed to survey the works and report to the committee—but this was always strongly opposed by the chairman. In the month of June last he (Alderman Brown) sent for Mr. Richard Brown, the real architect, who formed the plan for our new gaol, and he was accompanied by Mr. Thos. Bird, a surveyor.
They pointed out great deviations, examined the bill of extras, amounting to 2300l. and discovered many things charged as extras which were positively included in the contract: amongst them were twelve iron doors, charged 72l. The iron frames to the cell windows, which by the contract were to have the outer rims and horizontal bars made of hammered iron, were all cast in one piece, which enabled the contractors to execute them at little more than half the expence, and yet not a shilling was deducted. The locking stones to the cell doors, 14 inches long, 14 inches wide, and 9 inches thick, were all left out and no deductions made, &c. &c. &c. He had these gentlemen in attendance upon the spot, with the plans and specifications in their hands, and ready to point out the various deviations, and he begged they might be admitted into the committee-room—but this request was refused. Subsequently he (Ald. Brown) gave a copy of Brown and Bird’s remarks upon the extra charges, & an order was entered in the book that enquiry should be made as to their correctness.—A most extraordinary plan however was pursued. They were sent to Messrs. Mears and Blyth, the contractors, to answer the observations—but they refused to give any answer, although the charges were heavy against them; nor could he (Mr. B.) get any answer whatever from the chairman. There was another glaring imposition, in the deductions for work not executed, with respect to 24 sets of iron louvre blinds to prison wings, and 8 iron doors, 54l. The doors amounted to 48l. leaving only 6l. for the louvre blinds, which the contractors themselves had estimated, when they made the contract, at 64l. 8s. making a difference of 58l. 8s. There were other extraordinary charges, such as 441l. for extra locks, and 284l. for extra brick-work. He had frequently requested to be informed where this extra brick-work was to be found, but could never obtain an answer.
All he wanted was that equal justice should be done to the contractors and to those who were to raise the money. But how was he treated? Why instead of going into the enquiry to ascertain the correctness of the charges, or receiving answers as promised him, the chairman told him (Ald. Brown) that the charges are not correct, and used very unbecoming language, with the evident design of deterring him from pursuing the enquiry. He therefore was compelled to stand up now in Court, in defence of his own character and in defence of his fellow citizens, who were called upon to raise 15,000l. this quarter for the maintenance of the poor, and therefore great care should be taken that they did not pay more for the new gaol than the contractors were entitled to.
The gaol was now finished, and besides the 2300l. for extras already claimed, there were more coming forward to the amount of about 2000l. He should therefore strongly recommend that they follow the example of the justices in the county, who had the whole work of the castle surveyed by a stranger; and therefore he moved that a surveyor of eminence, and a stranger, be employed to survey the new gaol. This was seconded by Alderman Bolingbroke; but in consequence of several magistrates having left the court to attend a committee, the debate was adjourned.”
I’m quite amused by the “he had frequently requested to be informed where this extra brick-work was to be found, but could ever obtain an answer”, which sums up the whole sorry story.
The contractors were playing fast and loose, but just as things were getting excited a number of magistrates left to attend another committee, so the debate was adjourned. Even £4,300 in disputed building charges was apparently no match for the gravitational pull of another meeting, but perhaps they had better snacks at that one. It’s a sign that public contracts have long since proved challenging to keep under control and I do wonder whether they found the missing brickwork.
I haven’t posted much about the Anglia Square demolition recently as not much has happened. However, as I was walking by today there was finally some more action. And here are some photos of all the excitement.
This notice appeared in the Norwich Mercury in September 1826 and relates to the manors of Bixley and Arminghall, immediately south of Norwich. It announced that game on the two estates was being strictly preserved and warned people against hunting or shooting there. In the language of the period, “sporting” meant pursuing animals such as hares, pheasants and partridges rather than participating in an especially vigorous game of bar billiards.
What makes the notice more interesting is the distinction it draws between “qualified” and “unqualified” people. Under the Game Laws then in force, the right to kill game was largely restricted to men with substantial property interests, certain long-term leaseholders and the eldest sons of esquires or men of higher social rank. Merely possessing a gun and finding a conveniently positioned pheasant was therefore insufficient in the eyes of the wealthy.
Those legally qualified to shoot were politely “requested” to stay away from the estates, while unqualified people were warned that they would be prosecuted without further notice. Being qualified did not give anyone the right to enter another person’s land, but the difference in tone is revealing. Wealthy sportsmen received a courteous announcement, while everyone else was informed that the authorities would be dealing with them and prosecution was likely.
The property qualification was abolished by the Game Act 1831, just five years after this notice appeared, although shooting still required the appropriate permission and certificate. It is a small snapshot of a different time, when hunting rights were determined by wealth, property and the apparently vital matter of whether someone’s father was sufficiently grand. You don’t get that in bar billiards.
