A SLICE of HISTORY in the PAPER INDUSTRY
In 1784 the mill at the Staithe in Bungay was bought by William Mann; until then the mill had been part of the estate of the Duke of Norfolk. Mann let part of it to Joseph Hooper. A native of the coastal town of Marblehead, Massachusetts, Joseph Hooper was a Harvard graduate of the class of 1763, born to a wealthy local family in 1743. Like several other members of the Hooper clan he was a staunch Royalist and following his opposition to the Boston Tea Party he had his property seized. He fled to England in 1775, prior to the Declaration of American Independence. As a refugee he travelled the country before settling in Bungay, where he converted his part of the mill from grinding corn to a mill producing paper. The rest of the mill stayed as a corn mill and was leased separately by William Mann. Hooper produced among other things fine quality writing paper. In 1790 he complained that the people of Ditchingham had opened up Ditchingham Dam and this had diverted the flow of the river Waveney along Chainbridge Beck; this was starving the mill of water and making it hard to produce paper. The problem took two years to resolved, and it was only after the owner William Mann had threatened those responsible with action for damages that the dam was restored.
A year after taking the lease on the Bungay watermill Joseph Hooper had married Susannah Taylor in Grantham, Lincolnshire, her home town. They had two daughters, Emily (who was born in Grantham in 1786) and Harriet (born in Lakenham near Norwich in 1788). Joseph Hooper appears to have been successful in business, being recorded as a man suitable to employ parish apprentices during the 1790s, but with his health failing he died in 1812. His wife took over running the paper mill. She died in 1817 and both she and Joseph are buried in Holy Trinity churchyard in Bungay. With no male heirs to take over the business was transferred to William Betts, Harriet’s husband. He was working the mill in Bungay in 1822, but by 1828 James (probably their son) had taken over. Meanwhile William’s brother Lewis was working at the paper mill in Upper Sheringham. James could not make a success of paper making, and by 1829 both he and Lewis were declared bankrupt. The lease on the mill at Bungay was put up for auction in the Kings Head in the Market Place in 1830, but it did not sell; in 1832 the mill was still vacant.
Meanwhile across the border in Norfolk, in 1810 one John Burgess was the foreman responsible for setting up the first paper making machine in the county. Ten years later Burgess was made a partner in the mill. He was happily working at Taverham while acquiring properties in Costessey across the river, including the White Hart pub which he rebuilt in the modern style. (This was again rebuilt in the 1930’s and is now known as the Harte.) In 1830 the senior partner at Taverham mill retired and transferred his holding to two young men who had their own ideas about running the business. These two eventually drove the formerly prosperous mill into business failure, but by then John Burgess had left Taverham. With his sons he moved to Bungay and reopened the paper mill there. He was already 71 years old, and the work was probably mainly in the hands of his son Charles. Having been pioneers in the technique of modern machine-made paper they had taken a step back into the past to hand-made paper.
The principal user of paper in Bungay was John Childs, the printer who had taken over from Charles Brightly, and whose business would become Richard Clay (still in existence as part of the St Ives Group). In Brightly’ time all paper had been hand made, and no doubt Joseph Hooper built up a prosperous business supplying him with printing paper, but times had changed. By 1830 Childs was the owner of a large business, employing over 100 people, and he specialized in large editions of substantial books such as annotated Bibles. These were not restricted to the printers at Oxford, Cambridge and London as the standard, non-annotated Authorised Version of the Bible was. These substantial works required a lot of paper, but his suppliers were not local. His account book for 1827 shows that he was buying paper from Spicer’s in Cambridgeshire, and in 1834 from Dickinson, whose paper mill was at Apsley in Hertfordshire. I do not know how the paper was transported to Bungay, but I suspect it came by the Grand Union canal (or in the case of Spicer’s paper via the rivers Cam and Great Ouse) to the Wash and then along the coast to Yarmouth. From there it would have gone up the Waveney through Geldeston Lock to the head of the navigation at Bungay. Although this meant three trans-shipments, from narrow boat to coasting vessel at Wisbech or Kings Lynn and then to wherry at Yarmouth, until the coming of the railways water was the only way to carry heavy loads long distances. Both Dickinson and Spicer were making paper by machine, and the mill at Sawston in Cambridgeshire was one of the first to use a Fourdrinier paper making machine in 1809. It was high quality and high volume paper, quite different from the paper being produced at Bungay by Burgess, which although it had no transportation cost, had no other advantages.
However there is evidence that the Burgesses, father and son, did supply paper to Childs. In 1833-36 there are entries for the buying of both brown paper and drab from Charles Burgess, and in 1836 and 1837 for brown paper from John Burgess. Brown paper would have been used merely for packing, but drab was used in the bookbinding process. Although there was also a printing industry in nearby Beccles, it is clear that the majority of Burgess’s custom would have been for wrapping paper, and it would not have been economic to transport it very far. It was not a particularly good position to be in, when all his success had been based on the modern paper-making process, and the enterprise did not last for many years after John Burgess’s death. Paper-making in Bungay finally came to an end in 1864 with a serious fire, after which the mill was rebuilt as corn mill. It had passed out of the Burgess family’s hands in the 1840s. In its final years it was operated by a number of paper makers.
John Burgess died on the 21 May 1838. In his will he lists his properties – the public house and a double cottage in Costessey, and three more cottages in Norwich. His reference to his business is rather downbeat; he instructs his executors to continue his business ‘until such at time as it shall be beneficial to discontinue it.’ The most affectionate mention is for his daughter, Sophia Ann, who is to take her pick of his furniture to the value of £24 (about £4,000 in today’s money), ‘in regard to her kindness & attention toward me’. His executors were Spooner Nash, a paper dealer and stationer of Charing Cross, Norwich, and Henry Barnard, a merchant of Bungay. So ends the story of John Burgess, and paper making in Bungay. The mill itself survived into my lifetime, producing animal fodder under the auspices of Hovis. The mill finally closed in 1955, although it has ceased to use water power some fifty years earlier. The mill building of 1864 is still in commercial use, in 2003 as a consultancy and training centre.
THE BLOG FOR THE HISTORY OF EAST ANGLIAN LIFE
The effects of tidal drift can be seen all along the coast, and are especially interesting in Norfolk; at least I find them so. You must forgive me if the subject I am about to discuss is rather technical, but I will not be using technical language. This is principally because it is not a language I understand, but also because I have no wish to blind my readers with science. Some examples of this technical jargon are ‘littoral transplantation’ and ‘distal accretion’; at an academic level the study of tidal drift can be complicated, though I think the jargon makes this worse. I, on the other hand, will be using simple terms and simple concepts.
But what is tidal drift? From studying the tide tables it is evident that in all down the East Coast high water comes earlier in the north than in the south. High tide is about an hour earlier Yarmouth than it is in Lowestoft. This is not merely a matter of timing; the current that is dictated by the tide also flows in a southerly direction. This we call tidal drift or longshore drift, and its effect can be seen wherever there are breakwaters on the beach; on one side the sand builds up, while on the other side it is carved away. So far it is all relatively straightforward, but it now gets more complicated. Somewhere between Bacton and Sheringham the tidal drift divides; past Winterton it continues to the south, but along the North Norfolk coast it goes west.
Let us examine the direction of the sandspits around the East Anglian coast. At Orford Ness there are many miles of sandbank; this spit goes goes from Aldeburgh in the north to Shingle Street in the south. At Blakeney the sandspit goes from Cley in the east to Blakeney Point in the west. This gives the clear indication of the direction of the longshore drift. So far so understandable, but now we come up with a puzzling fact; further along the Norfolk coast, in the north-western extremity of the county, the sand spits run from west to east! Why is this?
To explain this we must go back and examine what has been going on down the the Lincolnshire coast. There the longshore drift has also been continuing in a north to south direction. It then loops through the Wash, where it briefly goes south to north past Heacham; at Hunstanton it turns east. What happens when the drift that has come down the Lincolnshire coast meets the drift along the North Norfolk coast? At Holme Dunes the sandspit runs from west to east, showing that the tidal drift that has been flowing down Lincolnshire is still the dominant force; but when this current comes up against the North Norfolk current it has nowhere to go. This is not a problem for the North Norfolk longshore drift as it just moves off shore and eventually recirculates. The west/east current just stops and dumps the sediment it has been carrying. The result is the island at Scolt Head; this is how I interpret the situation, though experts might pooh-pooh the suggestion. For much of the North Norfolk coast the action of the tides has caused coastal erosion, but in the area between Brancaster and Wells-Next-the-Sea the ebb and flow of the tides have resulted in the opposite effect. The shifting sands do not rigidly stick to a predictable pattern, but over time (hundreds or even thousands of years) this has been the net result.
The tide tables paint a much more complicated picture and one which reflects the complicated currents that swirl around the Wash and other river estuaries. All along the coast of South Lincolnshire the deposition of estuarine mud from the Wash to the south and longshore drift sand from the north have left the ports of Boston and Wainfleet several miles inland. Boston is still a seaport (just), but Wainfleet is now an inland market town with virtually no craft left on the river Steeping; only a sunken hulk holds any memory of busier times. On the Norfolk side of the Wash the village of Snettisham has similarly been the recipient of much silt and the increase in sandbanks continues.
THE BLOG FOR THE HISTORY OF NORFOLK
The Royal Observatory was established in 1675 by King Charles II on a site at Greenwich selected by Sir Christopher Wren. From the 17th century the meridian at Greenwich became the basis for astronomical calculations, led by the English Astronomers Royal. As Britain became a great maritime nation through the 18th century this was increasing adopted by other countries as the Prime Meridian. The process culminated with the International Meridian Conference of 1884, held in Washington D.C. (The French continued to use Paris as their prime meridian until 1911.)
We can trace the adoption of Greenwich Mean Time as the effective navigational standard to the award of the prize for an accurate chronometer to John Harrison in 1773. Although GMT may have been important for navigating across the globe, every town across England had its own time. The local clocks were all set to the midday sun by using the sundial. This changed with the coming of railways, which made a nationally agreed time essential for timetabling purposes. When travelling in a north/south direction this made no difference, but the journey from London to Bristol produced a time slip of several minutes. The clock on Bristol Corn Exchange had (and still has) two minute hands, one showing GMT and one showing local time. ‘Railway Time’ (i.e. GMT) was introduced by the by the Great Western Railway in 1840; as you can imagine there was much opposition to this innovation at first. The adoption of GMT as the national standard time was only recognised by Statute in 1880.
Daylight saving, which is the rationale behind British Summer Time, has no relevance for most of the year. In midwinter the hours of daylight are so short that it makes little difference how you fiddle with dial on the clocks; you will rise and retire in darkness anyway. Similarly in summer the nights are so short that the few hours of darkness will not impinge on your daily life. It is only for week or two during the spring and autumn that the correlation between the brightness of the sky and the time on the clock-face has a minor effect on your activities. Yet for this reason we have go through the whole disruptive apparatus of the hour change.
The reason for the clocks changing is all to do with our natural sloth and laziness. If we all got an hour earlier there would be no need for the clocks to change. The government knows it could never tell everybody to get up an hour earlier in the day, so the changing of the clocks is just a clever ploy to get us to do it anyway. The first person to mention that getting up an hour earlier in winter would save money on candles was Benjamin Franklin. This famous American thinker and diplomat was talking about the Parisiens of the eighteenth century.
Germany was the first country to introduce Daylight Saving Time in 1916. The reason was to save coal during wartime, and I suppose it must have worked, though they still lost the war. Their enemy Britain followed suit, and since then Daylight Saving has become widely used across Europe and North America. The countries nearer the equator have little to gain from Daylight Saving Time, as the hours of day and night change but little through the year. The economic argument of saving energy is much less clear-cut today than it was when Daylight Saving was introduced in the First World War. The use of air conditioning, digital equipment and the need for artificial light in modern buildings regardless of the time of day make the the use of electricity less of an issue than it was. The most persuasive argument in favour of the hour changing is the increase in leisure opportunities during the lighter evenings of British Summer Time; but against this must be set the increase in accidents to children while going to school in the darker mornings before the clocks go back. There are arguments for and against the hour change.
Why can’t we just keep GMT (or BST) throughout the year? Do we really gain anything worthwhile from this tinkering with the clock? During the years 1968 – 1971 they didn’t change the clocks and kept BST all year round. For this experimental period British Summer Time was renamed as British Standard Time. There was of course an outcry from the people about losing the hour change, just as there had been when it was first introduced, but I rather liked the slow progression in the seasons, without the sudden onset of winter darkness. Before I retired I used to enjoy the extra hour in bed in the autumn when the clocks went back, but the effect only lasts a day. This must be repaid in the spring anyway, when your sleep is reduced by the same amount. Now that I no longer work on a daily basis the arrival and departure of Greenwich Mean Time doesn’t make much difference to me.
THE BLOG FOR THE HISTORY OF TIME
I like Jeremy Corbyn’s stated aim to reopen the railway line from March to Wisbech as soon as possible if he becomes PM. As things stand we have endless reports on the subject but no action. Corbyn is naturally in favour of the renationalisation of the railways, but the track infrastructure has been in public ownership since 2002, when Railtrack effectively went bust. It is only the train operating companies and the rolling stock leasing companies that are privatised. I think the policy to take back the railway operators into public ownership as the franchises come up for renewal is the right way to go; it costs nothing to the taxpayer and returns the train operations to those who ought to own them, the people. Instead of paying large subsidies to companies like Virgin Trains and Abellio, the money would be retained in the public sector. Why ever are we filling the pockets of Sir Richard Branson and the Dutch national rail operator in this way? I like LABOUR’s policy on the rail industry; I wish that all their policies were as fiscally neutral as this one!
What about the commitment of Corbyn to abolish university fees? I was one of the lucky generation who not only got our fees paid but got a grant towards living expenses too. The number of young people attending university in those days was under 10%, and the cost to the government was affordable. With that number now nudging 50%, the ongoing cost to the taxpayer would be quite outrageous. The policy is naturally popular among the young, or a section of them at least; whether it ought to be popular among those young people who do not receive a university education (but will nonetheless be expected to pay for those who do) is another point entirely. If political affiliation had anything to do with self-interest none of this group would support the Labour Party, but it has much more to with the idealism of youth. Even this idealism would surely be sorely tested among those unfortunate young graduates who already have student debts of many thousands of pounds to repay. After rashly promising to pay off these debts too, the mind-boggling sum this would cost caused even the Labour leadership to have second thoughts; instead they have said they will merely “think about it”. While the Labour Party is thinking about this, the better paid graduates will have paid off their debts; can they then look forward to a massive lump sum in repayment of the money spent on their fees? Of course not, but that would be the only fair option to pursue. With all these proposals Labour have got into deep waters indeed; where do they see the money coming from for all their schemes? I think they even said they would reduce the deficit at the same time!
The SCOTTISH NATIONAL PARTY’s plan to set up a not-for-profit alternative to the big energy companies has the potential to provide the way forward in that country. The oligopolies in energy supply are worse than the nationalised industries that they replaced. However, given the SNP’s abysmal record in administration, I wouldn’t count on anything they try to do being a success. Scottish education used to be the envy of the world; look at it now! Scottish universities are still free for Scottish students, but the expense of providing this has been ruinous for the rest of the education system. Further education in Scotland has more or less collapsed.
The LIB DEMS are stuck in an unhappy place; their resolute determination to remain in the European Union should have garnered them much support, given that nearly half the electorate voted that way in the referendum. Moreover, they are the only major party to unequivocally take that position. Nonetheless their parliamentary representation is only 20% of what they enjoyed just a few years ago. I hesitate to mention university fees once again, but their volt face on the subject is the only thing I can point to that could account for their reversal in fortunes.
What can I say about the TORIES? Their tinkering at the margins of student loans is pathetic; it doesn’t impress anyone, and nobody will vote for them because of this. They are in a terrible position; with no majority in Parliament they are attempting to put into effect the greatest constitutional change in this country since the Second World War that is Brexit. Not only that, but most of Parliamentary Conservative Party plainly do not in their heart of hearts believe in the policy they are committed to implementing. I contrast this with the rapidly shrinking paid-up Tory Party membership, who are about 100% Leavers. Mrs May’s inclusive social policy has no prospect of ever being brought about. Much of it is in direct opposition to her party’s pro-business values. Even if it had a chance of success, it is not part of a conservative mindset; it might be a very good thing (or it might not) but the Conservatives should leave Socialist values to a socialist party. The Tories cannot gain from aping Labour at very turn. The true believers will always vote Labour, and the conservatives will have nothing to go to the ballot box for.
You will have noticed how often the subject of university fees has raised its head. The fact is there are far too many universities. At least half are providing a poor standard of education to intellectually challenged students. Many of the rest used to provide a perfectly good technical education without an academic veneer on which successful careers could be built. Worse than possessing this travesty of a degree level qualification, few of these low-end graduates will ever earn enough to pay off their student loans in full, though most will earn enough to ensure that they pay a higher rate of tax than their more sensible non-graduate counterparts. The whole higher education system is a pig’s breakfast.
We live in interesting times.
My great-great-great-grandfather William Rivett was born in a central Norfolk village in 1776. Shipdham is a large village, about half way between Dereham and Watton; and in the mid C9th it had nearly 2000 inhabitants. The Rivetts were a family of local builders; William was the carpenter and his brother John the bricklayer. William’s eldest sister Susan also married into a building family. The village could support quite a few builders and even a building surveyor. William Rivett appears in the 1830 Pigot’s Commercial Directory of Norfolk as carpenter and builder in Shipdham. Aged about 70 William retired to the nearby village of Southburgh to deal in pigs. The building business in Shipdham had already been passed on to his son Thomas while William was still living there. Two of his sons were already living in Southburgh, which may have prompted the move by their father. His son Edward was a country wheelwright in Southburgh employing 2 men and his younger brother Francis was apprenticed to the trade. They were a family of successful tradesmen. Other members of his family became the grocer and the post master in Soutburgh (then a more flourishing village than it has since become). Edward’s descendants continued to work as wheelwrights in Southburgh, while Francis set up business in the trade in Shipdham. He retired to Swaffham where he was living in retirement in 1912.
From as early as 1749 there had been a charity school in Shipdham, which taught about a hundred poor children and they had to pay no fees. They got their basic education gratis. In visual terms the village still appears much as it must have done in the 18th century, with the church dominating the High Street. The market which had been established by the Bishop of Ely in Henry III’s reign had been obsolete for centuries, though the name Market Street still remains. By the mid 19th century it had three Non-conformist chapels including both Wesleyan Methodist and Primitive Methodist. It had a wide range of shops and tradesmen, butchers, grocers and ironmongers.
William’s son Henry followed his father into the building trade, but by 1870 he had branched out into farming. He had 12 acres, and produced bullocks for the farmers around Shipdham. His farm was in Blackmoor Row in Shipdham, and this had been passed down to him through his aunt Jane Stagg (nee Rivett). She had married a farmer in Blackmoor Row. When her husband James died at the young age of 49 in 1824 his widow Jane had continued to farm in Blackmoor Row in her own right until her death in 1852. Although she had several sons there were no grandchildren to inherit the farm; James Stagg, the son who had inherited the farm married late in life and had no children of his own; one of his brothers emigrated to the USA and one had died as a young man. When James died my great-grandfather Henry became a farmer, and so started a dynasty of Rivett farmers in Norfolk that survives to this day. His son (also called Henry) was a farmer near Mileham in Norfolk; he was my great-grandfather. Several of the next generation were also farmers, but my branch of the family were drapers.
My Great Aunt Hilda (who married farmer Ralph Wace) appears in this photo. She is the baby on her grannie’s knee; she was a great granddaughter of William Rivett with whom I began this story. By the time this photograph was taken this branch of the family had moved a few miles away to Beeston.
I posted the above information on the Shipdham History Group’s Facebook page and got this interesting comment: Thank you so much for all this information. I have a photo of one of the Rivett men in fancy dress in Southburgh in early C20 and will have to look it up. There is a corner in Southburgh still known as Rivett’s corner so we know where they lived there. I believe that it is Edward Rivett who is perhaps remembered best in Southburgh. Will see what else I can find out about the family, particularly the Rivett who married a Stagg and lived in Blackmoor Row. Thanks again – BB
THE BLOG FOR THE STORY OF EAST ANGLIAN LIFE
To read my initial thoughts on Norwich’s Northern Distributor Road you need to read my earlier blog. CLICK HERE to read THE NORTHERN DISTRIBUTOR ROAD. We are now several months down the line, and some things are becoming clearer. As far as I am concerned (living as I do at the western extremity of the route) it appears to be of little relevance to me and my travel needs. I will have to use the first few miles to reach Norwich Airport in future, because they have now permanently closed the road that I have previously used, to enable the construction of the new road.
I had hoped it might provide a speedier way to get to the London bound trains, but the nearest the NDR comes to the railway station is miles out in the countryside, and I don’t think it will be any quicker. It will certainly be much further to drive than going through the city centre. The road goes quite near Salhouse station, so that would be the place to get the train to Cromer; unlike Norwich station, the car parking there is free but the service is two hourly; only every other train stops there.
The NDR will provide a quicker route to Wroxham and North Walsham, but I seldom go that way; maybe with the NDR making these places more readily available my travelling habits will change. The main destination which it will be much easier to access will be Great Yarmouth. It is a shame that my days of riding the roller coaster on the Golden Mile are well and truly over. It will perhaps make it slightly easier to go to Lowestoft and Bungay too, and a visit to Whitlingham Broad might be bit easier by the new road. Otherwise I do not see myself making much use of it.
What would make my life much easier would be if the bridge over the river Wensum near Ringland were built. This would also relieve Costessey of much through traffic, but this is not part of the current scheme. It seems likely that such a crossing will eventually be built, and only then will the NDR be a useful road. For us residents of Taverham this would mean we would no longer have to thread our way through unsuitable roads to get to the Longwater retail park; and reaching the A47 would be a piece of cake. This would also be the case for travellers from Fakenham, Reepham, Holt and Cromer. To get to the A11 at present these drivers have to make their way into Norwich as far as the Ring Road and then down the Newmarket Road to the Southern Bypass. That is unless they do as I do, and go through the narrow roads and speed bumps to the Royal Norfolk Showground. Even with the opening of the NDR next spring this will still be the most direct and quickest route for them to take, although I am sure the road signs will direct them to take the huge diversion east along the NDR.
The dual carriageway is already complete at the western end, and the construction traffic has moved on. We are not yet allowed to drive along it, but there is talk of the first part from the Fakenham road to the Cromer road opening as early as October; we shall see. One thing is sure; even when it is ‘complete’ there will still be much work to be done.
THE BLOG FOR EAST ANGLIAN LIFE
In the ninth century the English East Coast was at the centre of a wave of invasion and warfare. Danish warriors from across the North Sea were making determined efforts to deprive the Saxons of their gold and silver and then rule the land. Eastern England was colonised by Vikings; York was the seat of Viking power in Northumbria from 867 for nearly 90 yeas, and East Anglia had Viking kings from 880 until 917. For the rest of the Anglo-Saxon period the influence of the Vikings was never far away. The Danish king Sweyn Forkbeard terrorised the country in the first years of the eleventh century; he briefly ruled England, and after his death his son Cnut became king of the land.
In Norfolk we can still trace the evidence of Vikings occupation in words and place-names. They soon intermarried with the local Anglo-Saxons, but they changed our language in the process. The Norfolk dialect includes many Danish words. Staithe is a term unknown in England outside the East Coast (this includes Yorkshire as well as Norfolk); it means wharf and comes from Old Norse. Flegg is the name of the old hundred just outside Great Yarmouth and the word means the yellow flag iris in the Danish language. The area around the upper reaches of the river Wensum is particularly rich in such memorials of a time over a thousand years ago. The village of Elsing takes its name from a Danish chieftain ‘Elesa’. The forest called Normans Burrow Wood near Whissonsett has nothing to do with rabbit burrows; it is a corruption of ‘Norseman’s Barrow”. Further west the village of Grimston takes in name from the pagan god Grim, while further east the second part of the name of the village Newton Flotman comes from the Old Norse word for seaman.
Nor is it only words which remind us of the Vikings. There are many archaeological finds which date from the Viking age. A brooch depicting a Valkyrie was found in Norfolk and may be seen in the collection at Norwich Castle Museum. A silver pendant decorated with Thor’s hammer was discovered by a metal detectorist near the river Wensum and hoards of coins from the period when Norfolk was ruled by Danish kings regularly turn up across the county. It was the Vikings who established Norwich as a major town, and the first reference to the name comes from one of these coins, where the inscription records that the mint was located there. They were fierce and ruthless warriors, but they reinvigorated the sleepy economic life of Norfolk.
It is thought that the huge development of the peat industry (that gave rise to the Norfolk Broads) was a result of the initiative of the Danish community. It is significant that in the past a quarter of the landmass in Denmark consisted of peat bogs, and these have been used as a resource since Neolithic times; there is no direct way of linking the origin of the Broads with the Vikings, but this seems highly likely. Long before the coal mines of the Midlands and the North produced the fuel that powered the industrial revolution, the Norfolk wetlands were a hive of activity. Peat dug out across the marshland and carried by river to Norwich provided the inhabitants with fuel. Within two hundred years of the arrival of the Danes in the small town they called Norvic, Norwich was vying to become the second most populous conurbation in the land. The peat was needed to heat their homes.
The Vikings came into the country and things would never be the same again. History has buried the bloodshed and paganism deep in the realms of the past, but the words we use, the landscape we live in and the blonde gene that remains in our bloodline bear mute testimony to the continuing influence of these fair haired warriors. As the Viking age recedes into the past these things will slowly fade, but they have lasted for over a thousand years; we are still Vikings in many ways.
THE BLOG FOR THE STORY OF EAST ANGLIA
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More than ten generations ago my ancestor George Peachey was born in Mildenhall in Suffolk. I do not know what his occupation was, but as all his descendants (right down to my great-grandfather Phipp Peachey) were warreners, I think it highly likely that he was too; rabbits were virtually the only crop that could be harvested from the sandy soil around the Brecks, until the 20th century ushered in forestry and provided a substitute in the form of timber. George Peachey was born in 1662 and grew up during ‘Good King Charles’s golden days’. The reason I mention this monarch is that he was a regular visitor to Newmarket to watch the horse racing on the heath. The town is only 16 miles from Mildenhall, and George may well have seen the king as he made his regal progress into the town.
For more than seven generations the Peacheys lived in Mildenhall, or the adjoining parish of Lakenheath. In this sedentary lifestyle they were not unique; indeed such a lack of mobility was commonplace for many centuries. Others members of my ancestors, for example the Jones family who lived as farm workers within a few miles of Ludgershall in Buckinghamshire, were equally settled. The Rivetts are buried in Norfolk’s Shipdam parish churchyard from the 17th to the 2oth centuries, and members of the Mason family still live around Stone in Staffordshire. The Rutters appear to have been bakers in Suffolk throughout the 19th century and into the middle of the 20th. The Buxton family were farm labourers in the Norfolk village of Easton, and their relatives were landlords of the village pub (the Dog) for most of the 19th century. A Buxton was servant to the curate in the adjacent village of Weston Longville in Parson Woodforde’s time, and there is no doubt in my mind that he too was a distant relative of mine.
All these bloodlines would never have met had it not been for George Stephenson and the coming of the railways. Even before the first trains ran into the West Country, an ancestor of mine (a young Buckinghamshire man working as a railway navvy) had met and married an orphan in Cornwall. Domestic service also provided opportunities for employment across the land, now that universal education allowed all to read the adverts for servants and the penny post let them write a letter of application in reply. The trains provided the easy and quick access for the servants to travel to their new jobs. Not all travel was by train; this was the norm, but my uncle’s father arrived in Grimsby from Denmark by boat in the nineteenth century. Physical mobility came first, and social mobility soon followed.
All this concerns my own relatives as you might have guessed. Over the last two hundred years I can point to relatives of mine in Dover and St Austell, Stoke on Trent and Stradbroke, Fenny Stratford and Bishop’s Stortford. They have been coal miners and railwaymen, drapers and wheelwrights, pigmen and gardeners, carpenters and bricklayers. There have been no ladies or gentlemen, no clergymen or army officers. They have been ordinary working people in ordinary working class jobs. This was true until the 20th century, when all this began to change. The opportunities for social mobility expanded exponentially, so that by the 21st century the grandson of a fishmonger is a recently retired banker; the granddaughter of a waitress was a university professor. The grandson of a policeman travels around Europe on behalf of British research foundations. Other relatives have worked in the medical and teaching professions; as architects or engineers, actors and musicians.
The study of family history is very popular nowadays and many people must be able to relate similar tales. It is a tribute to the nation that all these changes should have been going on in science and technology as well as society, that enabled the population to spread their wings. Not all have taken advantage of the opportunities on offer, but they are there for the taking; this simply wasn’t true in the past.
THE BLOG FOR THE STORY OF THE PAST
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What has happened to style in dress? What has happened to style in general? Now that we could all easily afford to dress well and travel in style, we ignore these niceties of life. Back at the beginning of the last century, when most people were really poor, they comported themselves with dignity. How we laugh at that today, but it was preferable to going round dressed as slobs.
This isn’t about the obesity epidemic, although that is a related problem; it perfectly possible to be fat and stylish, though this is more difficult to achieve than if you are thin. The thing to remember (for women particularly) is that if one is rather overweight you must wear loose clothing. Unfortunately many of these larger ladies seem to have the mistaken notion that tight clothes make them look thin. This untrue; in fact the opposite is the case. Leggings in particular are a bad idea for ladies of ample stature, but they are almost universal these days for all shapes and sizes of women.
For men neckties seem to be on the way out, but nobody has any idea about what should replace them. Merely removing the tie leaves a pointless turn-down collar gaping where the tie once was. A tee-shirt would be more sensible and hardly less stylish. Back in the Swinging Sixties ties were already seen as old-fashioned accessories, but the alternative was the polo necked sweater. This was stylish, but style has been ditched along with neckwear this time round. The veteran broadcaster Nicholas Parsons made a heartfelt but vain plea recently to replace the necktie with the cravat. This would indeed be a stylish alternative, but the very word reeks of the past. Nicholas Parsons may wear a cravat with style, but nobody younger than him does so.
This picture of my great-grandfather proves how even the poor could still dress well, and he certainly was poor. He worked with animals all his life, latterly as a carter for Colmans mustard. In this picture he is wearing collar and tie, suit and hat with waistcoat and button down collar, all for a stroll in his garden. His father had been a tailor back in the mid 19th century, which might account for some of his dress sense. We might think him rather overdressed for the occasion, but this was the norm in 1920. Everybody wore these clothes – for holidays even more than for work, when a slightly less formal kind of attire or a uniform might be required.
Don’t forget either that the task of laundering clothes was a huge one in those olden days. There were no washing machines or tumble driers. It was still a major undertaking in the mid-20th century, when it took up one day a week (Monday). In earlier centuries it took up a whole week, once a month. I doubt that anything was added to the hot water to help clean the laundry, because soap was a luxury then, taxed throughout the 18th century. Linen sheets and garments would be scrubbed in hot water, left on lines and hedges to dry and bleach in the sun, and then ironed. The laundry maid needed to heat the iron by the fire, so imagine how hot this would make the job in summer. In the winter drying the washing would be the problem, when the short hours of daylight and frequently damp weather made hanging the laundry indoors essential.
You can see the trilby hat my ancestor is wearing. Top hats, bowlers, deerstalkers and flat caps, all had their place in the complicated world social status. You touched your hat to acquaintances, and removed it entirely when greeting your superiors. Hats disappeared from British heads in the early 1960s; now only the baseball cap is worn by some young people (normally back-to-front). This headwear still has things to say about the social status of the wearer; I don’t think we will see Prince William wearing his baseball cap back-to-front any time soon. In this country we ought really to wear cricket caps instead of baseball caps, to put us on a par with our American cousins, but these are never seen except on cricketers on match days. BBC reporters may never appear with any form of head covering apparently; even when speaking outside the Kremlin in the dead of winter, the poor saps must speak to the camera with their heads open to the elements. (No Russian would do anything so foolish.) A warm furry hat with ear flaps would not obscure the reporter’s face, and I am sure they don something like that as soon as they are off camera; otherwise they would rapidly lose their ears to frostbite. What is the dress code that forbids broadcasters from wearing headwear? (Except for the headscarf of course.)
THE BLOG FOR THE HISTORY OF DRESS
What records would you take to the BBC’s fabled Desert Island? The show was invented by Roy Plomley in 1942 and has been going ever since. Roy himself continued to present the show for over forty years, until his death in 1985. The format is well-known; the guest lists the eight records he would like if he was marooned on a desert island. He or she says a bit about each one, a section of which is then played.
In 1964 one of the first 45s I bought was Not Fade Away by the Rolling Stones, so it was obviously a favourite of mine at one time. That was a long time ago though, and it certainly is not a favourite of mine any longer. My musical tastes soon developed, which makes it puzzling to me that so many 70 year olds still like the music they bought when they were teenagers. None of my 8 Desert Island discs would be pop music now; this fact alone shows why, even if I were a celebrity, I would never get invited on the show. I am afraid my choice of music would be rather indigestible for the anodyne tastes of the general public. If I had to choose a pop record it would be one by Abba or the Carpenters; these are attractive and tuneful songs that are despised by many (as they were by me back then), although they would be perfect for the listeners to Desert Island Discs. Karen Carpenter in particular had such a good voice. I have always maintained that a good song is just that, and its format (whether popular, jazz, classical or art song) is irrelevant; it is the tune that really matters.
It is the almost incessant drumbeat that accompanies nearly every pop song that puts me off them personally, so pop music is definitely out of my list of discs. (How old-fashioned that word is!) Light music however is certainly in. There is such a lot of light music that it is hard to pick just one piece. Nearly everything that Leroy Anderson wrote could make it to my desert island, but there is such a lot of marvellous British music in this genre it would have to be one of our composers. The Dam Busters march is too well-known, so I would go for another march by Eric Coates, Knightsbridge.
One down, seven to go; there is some jazz I like, but not enough to make it onto the list, so it is to the music of Schubert that I go next. Some people say Beethoven is the best ever composer, and some say Mozart, but for me it is J.S.Bach, followed closely by Schubert. There was a lot of music written by Schubert, considering that he died so young, but I am going for The Trout quintet. The ensemble includes a double bass after all, and that was my instrument. The string quintet in C major is a more serious piece, and I really prefer that, but it has two cellos and no bass.
After I had passed through my Rolling Stones phase, my friend Bill did much to educate my musical tastes. Nowadays he listens to lot of Shostakovich and Borodin but these composers, although I can listen to them with pleasure, could make it into my top eight. Elgar comes fairly high up in my list. The Pomp and Circumstance Marches are so well known, and so are the Enigma Variations; Salut d’Amour is also pretty well known, but I will go for that. Chopin cannot be omitted either, and both Elgar and Chopin have been favourites for as long as I can remember. I would select Chopin’s 24 Preludes, though if I must restrict myself to only one piece I will go for number one.
Hayden is an underrated composer, and his string quartet are among his best compositions, so my next piece will be his Opus 77, No. 1. Mozart must have a place, and for something a little different I will choose his Sonata No. 10 in C Major, K 330. It is not as powerful as his Requiem Mass, but you do not want to hear a succession of heavy music. If Mozart, then Beethoven too must put in an appearance, although contrary to my opinion of Haydn, I think he is slightly overrated. Like his older German contemporary however, I regard his string quartets as some of his best music; cue the string quartet No. 15 in A minor, Opus 132.
We now come to the last piece, and this must be by that towering genius Johann Sebastian Bach. I have avoided the most serious of compositions until now, but I will end with his B Minor Mass. I avoided listening to this for many years, perhaps being a bit overawed by its reputation, but when eventually I settled down to hearing it I found it tuneful and delightful, and no at all sombre as I had feared it would be.
Bach will always come out on top, but on another day I might opt for an even older set of composers including Monteverdi, Thomas Tallis and John Dowland. I’m afraid I am really that high brow.
FOR MY MUSIC
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