Stroud Library: Use it or Lose it – Ex Libris Ad Amazonia

It’s odd to think that the Chartist mass meeting up on Selsley Hill
Contributed to the formation and spread of public libraries.
But it’s true, after a fashion.

The Chartist decade of 1838 to 1848,
The ruling class fear of revolution,
The threat to private property and profit,
The association of freethinking with ‘intemperance’,
All helped lead to the 1850 Public Library Act,
The cult of municipal museums too,
And the Victorian emphasis on private study,
Within a public or familial space:
The familiar trope of the Victorian working class male autodidact.

‘We must educate our masters’,
Said Home Secretary, Robert Lowe,
After the urban working class gained the vote in 1867,
But self-help, the 3 R’s, libraries, museums and schools
Didn’t necessarily mean universal conformist thinking:
Fiction fostered the imagination, and non-fiction the frown:
Reading could lead to questioning, and such questioning,
Coupled with the study of a book’s bibliography
Could lead to the polite request that the local library
Might order a required book –
Not on the shelves –
Either as new stock,
Or from another library,
Out of town or county:
This was a public, national service,
Not just a municipal one.

It’s odd to think that the Chartist mass meeting up on Selsley Hill
Contributed to the formation and spread of public libraries.
But it’s true, after a fashion.

The Chartist decade of 1838 to 1848,
The ruling class fear of revolution,
The threat to private property and profit,
The association of freethinking with ‘intemperance’,
All helped lead to the 1850 Public Library Act,
The cult of municipal museums too,
And the Victorian emphasis on private study,
Within a public or familial space:
The familiar trope of the Victorian working class male autodidact.

‘We must educate our masters’,
Said Home Secretary, Robert Lowe,
After the urban working class gained the vote in 1867,
But self-help, the 3 R’s, libraries, museums and schools
Didn’t necessarily mean universal conformist thinking:
Fiction fostered the imagination, and non-fiction the frown:
Reading could lead to questioning, and such questioning,
Coupled with the study of a book’s bibliography
Could lead to the polite request that the local library
Might order a required book –
Not on the shelves –
Either as new stock,
Or from another library,
Out of town or county:
This was a public, national service,
Not just a municipal one.

Public libraries, public housing, public houses, public services,
Public footpaths, public baths, public broadcasting, public space,
Public health, public transport, public reading:
Children clutching their four books under their arms,
On their fortnightly visit,
Learning the nature of youthful citizenship
When paying their fines if overdue,
Studying the stamps and dates at the front of the book:
Wondering about who might have had this book before,

What were they like?
Were they just the same as me?
Would we ever meet, and discover that…
Once upon a time …

Or gauging the popularity of a book,
How could it be that no one had taken this book out for two years,
Two months and twenty-six days!
And when receiving a book through the out of county service,
The seemingly random nature of geography
And one’s own personal taste,
Resulting in strange affinities and remembrances:
How did Stroud know this book I needed
Was in Lewes Public Library?
In that faraway county called Sussex.
Why Lewes?

And back then,
There were libraries in all the suburbs, towns, cities, villages
And counties in our country, and travelling libraries too
For hamlets and isolated homesteads in the back of beyond,
Back in the time when England, Wales,
Scotland and Northern Ireland
Were not called Amazonia:
Use it or Lose it.

Laceys of Wotton-under-Edge and Chartism

This posting, about Chartism in Wotton-under Edge, was kindly shared by Richard Barton, after our Weavers and Workhouse Walk during the Stroud Fringe: the original focus was upon the family history of the Lacey family, and this section has been taken from that overall family history research. Many thanks again to Richard.

 E.S. Lindley in ‘Wotton-under-Edge’, page 110:

Lacey’s diary also has some account of the mild Chartist agitation of 1839. He (Henry Ratcliffe Lacey of the Tabernacle), with his brother Rowland (whom we meet in other connections) made themselves prominent, but their brother Newton had to keep quieter, being master of the British School. There was a large meeting on the Chipping, addressed by Henry Vincent, a noted national leader then out on bail, who was very soon gaoled at Monmouth over a great riot of the Newport miners. At half past five on Saturday morning brother Rowland came to tell Henry that Mr. Cogswell and two others were waiting for him downstairs, and he had a warrant served on him for attending an unlawful meeting. After telling his mother he was going for a walk, he persuaded Mr. Cogswell to go on and he would follow. A little down Nibley road a fly was waiting and he took them to Dursley for examination. Friends had brought bail, and it was accepted; at assizes on the Wednesday they succeeded in getting postponement till the Spring Assizes. The prosecution wanted them to come to terms, and their friends persuaded them to plead guilty and enter into recognizances to keep the peace for two years. Nothing more happened.’

Feb. 28 to Mar. 9: Bristol, Cirencester and Stroud

WEDNESDAY, March 6. — Weather cold — took coach for Wootton-under-Edge in Gloucestershire. A very heavy fall of snow commenced as the coach left Bath. We had a bitter cold ride. Arrived at Wootton by one o’clock. The snow had ceased falling. Dined with Remy Lacey, a real good Radical and founder of the Wootton Association. After dinner Burns and I walked to the room of the Association — spoke to the people briefly, and were loudly applauded. The Wootton people are very intelligent and will soon upset the aristocratic power of the neighbourhood. At three o’clock a procession was formed, consisting of about 3000 persons, headed by an excellent band of music, with beautiful banners, flags, &., and proceeded through the town up to the Chipping, where a wagon was placed as accomodation for the speakers. [Meeting chaired by Henry Lacey; Burns and Vincent spoke] We returned to our inn in procession, and spent the evening in the company of 200 ultra rads. “Fall, tyrants, fall” was sung by the whole company in famous style. We separated about eleven o’clock.

THURSDAY, March 7. — Rose at seven — broke our fast in the cottage of Richard Skelton. Skelton is a stout, sturdy, six-foot Radical. … At ten we left Wootton for Cirencester, Gloucestershire. We reached Cirencester about three. The town is very neat and clean — the population about 7000. A meeting was convened for six in the evening, in the Market-place. At six, Burns and myself walked to the place of meeting. We found upwards of 4000 persons assembled. The agricultural labourers poured in from the surrounding villages. The town was in a very excited state. One man said such a stir had not been created since the town was taken by Prince Rupert. …. Burns and myself addressed the meeting at great length. An attempt was made by half-a-dozen “gentlemen” to interrupt the meeting, by throwing stones at the speakers. I had one capital knock — it did me more good than an electric shock. The people soon silenced the “gentlemen”. Al the resolutions were carried unanimously, and measures were adopted for obtaining signatures to the petition, and for collecting the National Rent. Burns and myself were elected Delegates. We had a great number of ladies present. God bless them!

Henry Vincent, ‘Life and Rambles’, in the Western Vindicator , no.4 (16th March 1839), p.1

Teetotal Chartists
Looking for the Charter “at the bottom of a glass of water”?

Both Lovett and Henry Vincent (an abstainer since 1836) appear to have been confirmed in their anti-alcohol beliefs by their experiences of prison, and in December 1840 Vincent would initiate an address arguing that the aristocracy ruled only because of the vices of the poor and that Chartists must therefore become teetotallers.

The address was widely disseminated, being published in full in the Northern Star, English Chartist Circular and the Odd Fellow, and it produced an enormous response, encouraging Chartists in many parts of the country to establish teetotal Chartist bodies alongside local branches of the National Charter Association, or to incorporate abstinence from alcohol within the objectives of their NCA branch.

Among the 135 signatories to the address were such other Chartist luminaries as Charles Neesom of the London Working Men’s Association, the bookseller and publisher John Cleave, and Henry Hetherington, the veteran campaigner against a stamped press and key ally of Lovett.

In “Teetotal Chartism”, a paper for the journal History (vol 58 no 193, June 1973) Brian Harrison wrote of the address:

Judging by its signatories, Teetotal Chartism was strongest in the North of England. One hundred and thirty of the 135 signatories are known; of these, 48 came from Yorkshire, 26 from Lancashire, 20 from the Midlands, 13 from the Potteries, nine from London, four from Scotland, three from Ireland, two from Sunderland, two from Wotton-under-Edge and one from Brighton. But London had at least five Teetotal Chartist societies – at Bermondsey, Lambeth, Cheapside, Beak Street and East London.”

The East London Chartist total Abstinence and Mutual Instruction Society was led by Charles Neesom and his wife Elizabeth Neesom, who also founded the London Female Democratic Association and was the leading light in an East London Female Total Abstinence Society.

Teetotal Chartism was also strong in Scotland. In response to Vincent’s address Scottish Chartists used the Chartist Circular of 9 January 1841 to issue their own call to “dedicate this year to total abstinence”. Their own address was signed by 101 Scottish Chartists, including some of the movement’s leading figures.

On the other side of the argument, Peter McDouall would condemn the teetotal movement at the National Charter Association’s 1842 convention as “more of a religious than a political body”.

His views were firmly in line with those of Feargus O’Connor, who in the face of a rapid advance by teetotal Chartism and Lovett’s New Move denounced church, teetotal, knowledge and household suffrage Chartism as “trick, farce, cheat or humbug”. All were, he warned, distractions and potentially divisive, raising the spectre that those who were not Christian Chartists or teetotal Chartists might be judged not good enough for the vote.

His intervention was enough to prevent Warrington Chartists establishing a teetotal body, but marked a decisive split with Lovett and his supporters.

But the anti-teetotal line was about more than the personalities of leading Chartists and their positions within the movement. More politically advanced Chartists believed that Chartism could triumph only by organising and confronting its opponents in the ruling class.

Much later, speaking in Manchester on 20 October 1850 after his release from prison, the Chartist leader Ernest Jones told the crowd: “Some will tell you that teetotalism will get you the Charter: the Charter don’t lie at the bottom of a glass of water.” In the same speech, he marked his change of political stance by warning the authorities that before his imprisonment, “I spoke of a green flag waving over Downing-street.  I have changed my colour since then—it shall be a red one now”.

Signatories to Henry Vincent’s address on teetotalism

Members of the late General Convention
Henry Vincent, late Resident in Oakham Gaol
John Cleave, 1 Shoe Lane, Fleet Street
Henry Hetherington, 126 Strand
C H Neesom, 76 Hare Street, Bethnal Green
W Rider, Leeds
J Harris, London (late of Brighton)

Political victims
Rev W J Jackson, now of Lancaster Castle
W Shellard of Ponty Pool, Wales; now resident in Oakham Gaol, Rutlandshire
W Edwards of Newport (Mon.) now in Oakham Gaol
G E Boggis, Brick Lane, London
Messrs Williams and Binns, Sunderland
Isaac Johnson, now resident in Chester Castle
RD Lacey, Wotton under Edge
H R Lacey, ditto
G M Bartlett, Bath
R Spurr, London

Perry, ‘Wotton-under-Edge, Times Past – Time Present’, 1986, pages 136 –6:

Within a few years the desire for further reform found expression in the People’s Charter, calling for votes for all adults, the payment of M.P. s and the secret ballot. The driving course was the London Working Men’s Association. Henry Vincent, a fiery orator, was sent to do missionary work in the West of England and a Chartist newspaper, the Western Vindicator, published in Bristol, circulated in this district. Early in 1839 branches of the W.M.A. and its complement, the Radical Women’s Association, had been established in Wotton.

The moving spirits were Henry and Rowland Lacey, sons of a prosperous local family, and Joseph Witts, a weaver. On Whit Tuesday a great Chartist meeting was held on Selsley Common, near Stroud. The Wotton contingent marched there in good order led by a band and members banners inscribed ‘Liberty, Equal Rights and Equal Laws’, a slogan alarmingly reminiscent of the French Revolution though harmless enough to modern ears. The meeting was addressed by Witts, who stressed the importance of action within the law, and by Rowland Lacey, calling for economic sanctions such as the mass withdrawal of savings from banks and a general strike. At the close, the Wotton members reformed and marched home as a disciplined body.

Lord Segrave (Colonel Berkeley’s new title) wrote to the Home Office that Wotton was the stronghold of Chartism in Gloucestershire. Joseph Witts was busy founding Chartist branches in Uley and other villages. In July Henry Vincent came here to address meetings on Wotton Hill and in the Chipping; he belonged to that section of the Chartists advocating violent means. ‘Pull down the Palaces of Tyranny with your own hands… pull down their castles’. Lord Segrave, feeling himself threatened, wrote again to the home Office asking for leave to recruit a troop of Berkeley Yeomanry, to be commanded by Grantley, to combat ‘the spreading poison’ which was beginning to infect agricultural workers as well as unemployed weavers.

Henry Lacey and Joseph Witts were charged with attending an illegal meeting and were sent for trial to Gloucester, but the case was postponed until spring. Those leaders of the Wotton establishment, including Eusebius Foxwell and T.S. Childs of the Tabernacle, who had given evidence against them, were the objects of noisy demonstrations in the town; they were followed around by a crowd of up to two hundred persons, ‘abusing them in the coarsest terms’, kept within bounds only by the extraordinary authority of Rowland Lacey.

In the meantime Henry Vincent had been tried in Monmouth and committed to Newport Gaol. Chartists in Wotton were in daily expectation of a national rising. Three secret meetings were held at the Red Lion and a delegate was sent to the clandestine Chartist headquarters; the proceedings were reported by a government spy. Though there had been talk of joining, no one from Wotton took part in the Chartist march to Newport Gaol, in which twenty-four persons died. When, early in 1840, many Chartists involved in the Newport attack were imprisoned or transported, the movement in Wotton seems to have died. Though Chartism continued in the eighteen-forties, the emphasis was on peaceful propaganda; there is no information about its survival in Wotton. Henry Lacey and Joseph Witts were bound over to keep the peace.’

For John Summerbee

Summerbees

I knew of Mick and I knew of Nick,
But I didn’t know of your existence,
Until early one morning on the number 46 bus,
When I was reading a Swindon Town programme.

It was back in 1992,
And you told me that Nicky was your nephew,
And I looked at you, someone I had never met or seen before,
And I asked you the next obvious, but risky question:
And it turned out that, yes, you were a boyhood hero’s brother,
You were the brother of Buzzer:
You were Mick Summerbee’s brother!

And it was the best conversation I have ever had on a bus
With someone I had never met before,
It was electric empathy and just the ticket,
As I told you of how I had seen best mates Mick and Ernie Hunt,
Grave-digging, back in the close season maximum wage early 1960’s,
When I was train spotting on Swindon Junction’s Milk Bank,
And how I missed some important engine numbers,
Just so I could watch them walk down the street to the café,
And how Mick and Ernie and Donald Rogers were my idols,
And how Mick had given up his time to coach Swindon Boys,
And had actually passed the ball to me in training,
And I didn’t want to clean my boots for a week, oh no,
And all this came out in a stream of consciousness,
And at no point did I ask about you, who you were,
As a person, as an individual, as John Summerbee,
As Mr. John Summerbee.
But it didn’t bother you,
And we always said hello in the streets or on the ‘bus,
Or when out walking the dogs in the valleys and fields,
Or having our hair cut in Summerbee’s salon.

But I knew nothing of your boyhood, until one Christmas,
When I read Colin Shindler’s book,
And it’s then I read of your dad, George,
And his struggles to make it as a footballer,
The dream move from Aldershot to Proud pre-war Preston,
Going sadly wrong, with wage cuts and wage slavery
And demoralising constant reserve team football:
Obscurity instead of fame, the struggle to make ends meet,
The drop down the divisions, as the body slowed down,
The youthful dream of stardom turned to non-league dust,
While your mum, Dulcie, coped with all the moves
And temporary homes of a travelling journeyman footballer.

And I read of your real life as John, your dad’s favourite son,
In whose shadow, Mick nervously walked,
For you were the better footballer and cricketer,
Until you were shattered by George’s early worn out death,
All dreams ruined at the tender age of just forty.
It’s then you turned your back on sport, and used your other talents,
For you were a star carpenter and joiner, too;
And even though I never met your dad,
And have only seen the photographs and read of him in a book,
The handsome dapper young man in his hand cut suits,
With shoes as shiny as a new pin, that you could see the faces in,
I see you in Stroud, immaculately turned out,
And now I know that I am not just looking at Mr. John Summerbee –
But I am also looking at George’s favourite son,
Walking in no one’s shadow, but his own and his dad’s.

Come Back Dad (Again)

Come Back Dad
And hide “British History For Boys”
Underneath my pillow while I’m asleep,
As a surprise coming home present;

Come Back Dad
And bring home
Mars Bars and eucalyptus sweets
On Thursday pay nights
For our weekly treat;

Come Back Dad
And tap the beer barrel
At 5a.m. on Christmas Day morning,
Exclaiming: “First one of the day!”

Come Back Dad
And put that “How to play Football” book
Under the tree
So I could learn to play just like you.

Come Back Dad
And make your own telly for the cup final again,
But this time it won’t blow up
Before our astonished faces;

Come back Dad,
And watch Remembrance Day
On a brand new bought telly,
And remember your fallen comrades,
With a tear in your eye;

Come Back Dad
And dig the spuds in on a bird-song Good Friday,
Out in the garden with your memories,
And then lead the sing-song round the Wheatsheaf.

Come Back Dad
And sing “Little Nell” with mum again
And let’s hear “The Sheikh of Araby” again,
Who else would have Christmas boots on kicking up the dust?

Come Back Dad
And sit me on your knee after the pub again,
And tell me about fighting the Japanese in the jungle,
Hearing their long night siren call:
“Come on Tommy. Look over here Tommy.”

Come Back Dad
And tell me one more time about Dixie Dean and Lawton,
And Matthews, Mortensen and Finney
And how much better they are than today’s lot.

Come Back Dad
And stub out your last fag of the day again
And put it behind your ear together with your pencil,
Senior Service ship-shape fashion for the morning;

Come Back Dad
And study the pools coupon by the firelight again,
While I read “Roy of the Rovers”
And dream of playing for England;

Come Back Dad
And pass the ball to me for just one more time.

Just like you do,
Every day,
And I’ll pass it back to you,
On every Christmas Day,
At 5 a.m.,
First one of the day.

My brother, Keith, and me, bleary-eyed, were once greeted by our dad tapping the barrel at 5 o’clock on Christmas Day morning with a jaunty: ‘First one of the day!’

The Anniversary of the NHS: Parity not Charity

Tucked between the Trinity Rooms and the Hospital we celebrated the NHS’s 65th birthday this week in the Pocket Park.
Built and given to the people in the 1880s, the Trinity Rooms acted as a ward in the First World War for troops, many, almost certainly, wounded on the Somme. The stone over the entrance of the hospital follows with the year 1919.
In the Pocket Park we reflected on the debts we all owe the NHS. James read words of the founding figure, Aneurin Bevan, whose friend, disciple, successor as MP for Ebbw Vale and biographer was a young Michael Foot.
Also reported this week is news of Foot’s statue in Plymouth, his home city, defaced and daubed with swastikas. He was born overlooking Argyll Park, the original ground of Plymouth Argyll, and he was a lifelong supporter on the terraces where Plymothians were always proud of him.

James Pentney

I was born at home in 1951
(Three years after the NHS came into being),
In a prefab, local authority council housing
Provided for WW2 servicemen and women:
It was the spirit of 1945,
The word ‘National’ was everywhere and on everything:
There was to be no return to laissez-faire,
There was to be no return to the 30’s and the Depression,
No return to the lottery of the market,
It was a thank you to the working class
For all the privations of six years of total war;

My birth wasn’t easy:
Dad rode out on his bike
To collect some gas apparatus
To aid my mother in her pain
And aid my passage into this world.

I dunno –
For all I know,
I might have died and mum might have died
Without the NHS and that gas apparatus:
I wouldn’t be able to remember those visits
To the NHS clinic for the free powdered milk and orange juice,
Or the visits to my bedside of refugee,
And survivor of fascism, Dr. Liechenstein;
And God knows what life would have been like for dad
And my sister and brother, without mum;

Granny and Grampy Butler came to visit me straightway,
For I was born on their wedding anniversary,
August 22nd;
Gramp was lucky – even though he was made unemployed
After WW1 and the family had to live in a Nissan hut,
He escaped wounding and trauma after four years at the front –
But in these early July days
Just after the centenary of the Battle of the Somme,
Let’s remember what support the wounded,
Traumatised and gassed veterans could obtain before 1948:
Patchy charity, the British Red Cross, the British Legion,
Poppy Day, nurses selling flags on the streets, cuts in the dole:

A true commemoration of the sacrifice of those soldiers at the Somme,
Would be the flourishing of a National Health Service in the 21st century:
No back to the future,
No flag days,
No war,
No charity,
But parity.

Memory Lanes: Brexit, Chartists, Chindits and Skylarks

The Stonehouse Brick Company’s Edwardian insignia
Are easy to miss as you walk past Spillman’s Pitch,
Where the cobbler sat tapping away, born in the Crimean War,
But still remembered by Irene, just a few years ago,
And where Old Tom, the delivery horse, trudged over the cobblestones,
Munching his way through front garden carrots,
Watching the deliveries of coal and milk and spuds and beer and bread,
And, the fishmonger, basket on head,
Listening to the housewives’ weekly question,
“What have you got for me today?”
While in the evening, tired out mill hands
Would take their beer jugs down to Vesey’s Offie,
Half way down steep Spillmans Pitch,
Getting some choc drops for the children,
Or those long liquorice bootlaces.

Rob and I talked of our teaching careers,
Nearly seventy years’ worth between us,
And that seventy years took us along the Nailsworth branch line,
To see the rusting mighty iron capstans,
One, now toppled, but one still firm and strong,
Once used for winching trucks down the gas works siding,
To a coal tippler (concrete remains there still),
Where a hydraulic ram tipped the trucks’ coal
Down a chute to a narrow gauge hopper,
And thence over two bridges and the Frome,
To its destination at Stroud Gasworks –
Spillmans in the 1920s must have been more
LS Lowry than rus in urbe:
Steam whistle hooters,
Gas hissing in mantles,
Rain streaking the windowpanes,
Flat caps bobbing in unison,
Stout boots clattering on the cobbles,
Bread and marg in your pocket,
A small army on the march,
Wife at the washing:
Spillman’s Pitch,
Another Monday morning;

We walked on through water time,
Streams and millraces and water wheels,
To reach Woodchester and Water Lane:
This canopied holloway takes you to the prehistory of Selsley Common
(And memory lane),
One of a number of ancient tracks
That would have interlinked the Five Valley burial mounds and barrows
On the hilltops and valley sides,
A Neolithic tracery, connecting sites at Randwick, Woodchester, Nympsfield, Minchinhampton, Avening, Horsley, the Stanleys, Uley –
Leading to the vision (and occasional roar) of the tidal, mystical Severn,
The sweeping light of sunset cloudscapes,
The silhouettes of the distant mountains;

I talked of my father’s Chindit war –
The Channel 4 programme the night before:
‘Every man who returned was a casualty’,
And how after dad’s funeral,
When walking with Trish on the common,
A skylark soared and sang high in the February sky,
And how I pledged that skylarks and memories of dad
Would be forever conjoined –
Just as I finished this monologue,
We reached the top of the barrow,
Where a skylark stood, staring at us from the ground,
While two others soared singing to the heavens;
I’m not a pagan, but it makes you wonder …

But we did not have long to muse on this:
Our stunned stupefaction was immediately jolted
By the arrival of different ghosts –
Thousands of working men, women and children,
Marching up to the hustings up on the common,
Bands playing, music flowing, banners streaming:
‘LIBERTY’, ‘EQUAL RIGHTS AND EQUAL LAWS’,
‘FOR A NATION TO BE FREE IT IS SUFFICIENT THAT SHE WILLS IT’ …
One Chartist told me how her newspaper,
The Northern Star was eagerly read and shared,
By the working classes,
With discussion groups in the home and pubs,
And how it would herald a new age of democracy –

I showed her the Daily Mail, the Daily Express, and the Sun,
We told her about the referendum and the power and lies of the press,
And how referendums had historically been a tool of populist dictatorships,
Hitler used three, for example,
We gazed at the banner fluttering in the gathering breeze:
‘FOR A NATION TO BE FREE IT IS SUFFICIENT THAT SHE WILLS IT’.

When we turned back round to talk,
The crowds, the hustings, the banners, the bands,
The skylarks had all disappeared,
All that remained was the banner:
‘FOR A NATION TO BE FREE IT IS SUFFICIENT THAT SHE WILLS IT’,
And beneath its shade,

The headlines of the Daily Mail, the Daily Express, and the Sun.

We walked into the sunlight,
I showed Rob another headline:
‘As Farage looked on, Le Pen said;
“Look how beautiful beautiful history is …”‘

Gloucestershire and the Peasants’ Revolt

Walking between Climperwell and Caudle Green,
You walk through prehistory
As well as the spring-source of the River Frome;
And then at Grid reference SO 928117,
Latitude 51.80389980, Longitude -2.10581700
(400m metres south-west of Groveridge House,
Near Brimpsfield),
You pass an old Roman site,
On top of which stood a deserted medieval village,
Through which drivers now speed on their oblivious way;
But to the east of the road lies most of the settlement,
Earthworks about half a metre in height.

Excavations have found stone walls and rubble;
Field walking found 12th-13th century medieval pottery
(As well as Roman materials);
A holloway ran parallel to today’s road
(Containing tofts – building and croft platforms),
Other trackways, field patterns, lynchets,
And enclosures can be descried
With earthworks to the east indicating a sheepcote.

The field evidence is obvious,
But the documentary evidence is more of toponymy:
The fields are first named Manless Town as late as 1622;
The area has also been named Haywick; Munley Towne;
Old Mondley; Longlorn Town and Keywich –
No taxation records have been found.

A century later we have this survey’s definition:
‘A patch of Plumb Hey within the ruins of Old Mondley formerly a Market Town and a Roman Station was Sacked
and Burnt in the Wars of King John’;

Samuel Rudder called it a hamlet in 1779 –
‘If a place can be called so with no house in it’;
He wrote of ‘Haywick’ as the original name,
With a weekly market
‘Until all men were killed in the reign of Edward the Third,
And all the women and children departed,
Since when it became known as Manless Town’;

Another survey toward the end of the 18th century
(A ‘Survey of Lands in Brimpsfield’)
Speaks of ‘Longlorn Town, which was destroyed in the reign of King John, then and still traces of Foundations to be seen and it has since that time been called Manless Town’;

More prosaically, but just as tellingly, we can wonder
Whether the overlaying sheepcote on the eastern side
Might not indicate the turfing out of the peasantry,
And a manorial switch from arable to pastoral farming:
Sheep and the lucrative medieval wool trade.

But if we wander up here in a winter dusk,
Perhaps we might hear the voices of the peasantry,
And follow in their footsteps,
To what was once a hamlet of houses, gardens, yards,
And ditches, with ridge and furrowed open fields,
And quarries, enclosures, streets, paddocks,
And footpaths to Brimpsfield Church,
And Sir John Giffard’s Brimpsfield Castle –
A testament to King Edward the Second’s order that
‘Not one stone should henceforth stand upon the other’,
After Sir John dared to rebel.

Did the locals care?

Pasture and turbary,
Estovers and piscary;
Pannage and housebote,
Shack and ploughbote.

     ‘It is the custom in England … for the nobility to have great power over the common people, who are serfs. This means that they are bound by law and custom to plough the field of their masters, harvest the corn, gather it into barns, and thrash and winnow the grain; they must also mow and carry home the hay, cut and collect wood, and perform all manner of tasks of this kind.’

     ‘Let the reeve be all the time with the serfs in the lord’s fields … because serfs neglect their work and it is necessary to guard against their fraud … the reeve must oversee all work … if the serfs do not work well, let them be punished.’

     ‘What sayest thou, ploughman?
How do you do your work?’

     ‘Oh, my lord, I work very hard; I go out at dawn, driving the cattle to the field and I yoke them to the plow. Nor is the weather so bad in winter that I dare to stay at home for fear of my lord: but when the oxen are yoked, and the ploughshare and coulter attached to the plough, I must plough one whole field a day, or more.’

     ‘Have you any assistant?’

     ‘I have a boy to drive the oxen with a goad, and he too is hoarse with cold and shouting.’

     ‘What more do you in a day?’

     ‘Certainly, I do more. I must fill the manger of the oxen with hay, and water them and carry out the dung.’

     ‘Indeed. That is a great labour.’

     ‘Even so. It is a great labour, for I am not free.’

     I’d like to think the village became deserted because everyone got so fed up that they marched off to join the Peasants’ Revolt …

     ‘The rebels petitioned the king that all preserves of water, parks, and woods should be made common to all: so that throughout the kingdom the poor as well as the rich should be free to take game in water, fish ponds, woods and forests as well as to hunt hares in the fields – and to do these and many other things without impediment.’

“The law locks up the man or woman
Who steals the goose from off the common
But leaves the greater villain loose
Who steals the common from off the goose.”

     ‘You wretches, detestable on land and sea; you who seek equality with lords are unworthy to live. Give this message to your colleagues. Rustics you were and rustics you are still: you will remain in bondage not as before but incomparably harsher. For as long as we live we will strive to suppress you , and your misery will be an example in the eyes of posterity . However, we will spare your lives if you remain faithful. Choose now which you want to follow.’

Let’s imagine that this deserted medieval village near Brimpsfield was home to a community of Lollards (the word possibly comes from an old Dutch word meaning “to mutter”). Lollards rejected papal authority and various beliefs about the sacraments, transubstantiation, confession and the elevation of saints. They also placed an emphasis upon preaching rather than liturgy; they objected to the wealth and what they saw as the greed of the Church. The Lollards emphasised the importance of individual interpretation of scripture rather than priestly ceremony: this had radical freethinking implications.
Archbishop Courtenay of Canterbury (who succeeded Archbishop Sudbury, murdered in the Peasants’ Revolt) decided to extirpate this movement by banishing followers of John Wycliffe or forcing them to recant. The movement was linked in the eyes of many to the Peasants’ Revolt: hence its persecution.
It was strongest in the west of England and the heresy continued here, as it were, underground. Professor Christopher Hill saw a direct link between the Lollards and William Tyndale over a century later. He argued that the cloth trade with its links with London and the continent helped foster the spread of heterodox opinions. Gloucestershire was unusual, he said, for its Lollard survival; it was a key county in the continuity of belief stretching from the Middle Ages to the Tudor Reformation. The Wycliffite innovation of translating parts of the Bible into the vernacular would reach its destiny through this county.
Wouldn’t it be nice to imagine a link between this Gloucestershire radicalism of the fourteenth century and the Diggers of Slimbridge in the seventeenth century?
There’s no point in fetishising documentary evidence: imagine and re-create with guerilla memorialisation.

Post-script

Truth is stranger than …
First time as tragedy, second time …

The day after posting the above, it was stated that the reason why the heir to the throne did not attend his mother’s birthday celebrations in London was because he was attending a village fete at …. Brimpsfield.

May 21st 1839 on Selsley Common

May 21st 2016 – May 21st 1839
‘A lovely day spent on Selsley Common today, remembering this day in 1839 when 5,000 gathered here in support of the People’s Charter. Then a talk about it all in the Bell, and a toast with the commemorative porter. Something quite English about it all – a different heritage though.’

We put on our best blouses, aprons and hats

I’ll never forget last Tuesday, even if I live to seventy.
We all woke up so excited, never eaten porridge so fast.
We put on our best blouses, aprons and hats,
The men shaved their chins, put on their caps,
Moleskin trousers and fustian waistcoats,
And out we strode into the lane.
Such a sight you never did see!
The men and women and children,
All marching in an orderly line past our cottage;
Then when we got to Stroud, we couldn’t believe our eyes:
Serpentine lines climbing up every valley side,
There must have been thousands!
All laughing and cheering, but sore determined,
To get our rights and right our wrongs;
Bread has never been so dear and wages are down,
With long hours for those who do have work;
Then there was the Tolpuddle Martyrs,
Then there was the New Poor Law and the Workhouse.
The Bible tells us to nurture each other in sickness and in health,
But the Workhouse rents us all asunder!
So it was such a joy to see them all,
See them all streaming from Sheepscombe, Steanbridge and Slad,
Stroud, Woodchester, Uley, Wotton,
The Stanleys, Selsley, Cainscross, Minchinhampton, Painswick,
Rodborough, Stonehouse, Randwick, Ruscombe, Bisley,
Nailsworth, Avening and Horsley;
Bands playing, music flowing, banners billowing:
‘Liberty’; ‘Equal Rights and Equal Laws’;
‘For a Nation to be Free it is Sufficient that She wills it’.
Then the banners from the Working Men’s Associations,
And the Radical Women’s Associations,
Then the handbills and placards listing our six points:
Universal Suffrage; Secret Ballot; Payment of MPs;
Abolition of the property qualification for MPs;
Payment of MPs; Annual Parliaments;
Then the speeches up there on top of the common:
‘We must have the 6 points’;
‘Peaceably if we may, forcibly if we must’;
‘Those damnable Poor Law Bastilles are worse than prisons’;
‘May the Almighty inspire the people with vigour and energy’;
Then cheers for our Chartist leaders’ names,
And then the groans for Russell’s;
It was such a day and life will never be the same again:
Russell says we do not understand the laws of capital and wages,
But we do, my Lord.
We do.

The 5 Ws and the H of Chartism

The 5 Ws and the H of Chartism

It was a political movement – for the ‘People’s Charter’ –
(‘Universal Suffrage, No Property Qualification, Annual Parliaments,
Equal Representation, Payment of MPs and Vote by Ballot’),
With three petitions to parliament in 1839, 42 and 48.

It grew out of disappointment with the 1832 Reform Act,
The national suppression of trades unions,
The government’s response to the Captain Swing riots,
The 1834 Poor Law Amendment Act and the workhouses –
The hated New Poor Law ‘Bastilles’
(Which criminalised poverty with the principle of ‘less eligibility’:
Conditions inside the workhouse should be worse
Than from the worst paid job outside);
Then there was the workplace:
The unregulated working hours, the high prices, the low wages,
The unemployment and short time working,
The loathing of the Benthamite ‘felicific calculus’;
It grew also from eighteenth century Tom Paineite democratic ideas,
Previous beliefs and practice of the revolutionary Spenceans,
The memories of Peterloo, the hatred of both Tory and Whig,
But the Chartist preacher, the Reverend Stephens, asserted:
Chartism is ‘a knife and fork question …
A bread and cheese question’,
Whilst Richard Gammage, the contemporary Chartist historian,
Provided the long standing division of the movement into
‘Moral Force’ and ‘Physical Force’ Chartists.
But why, in particular, was there such a Chartist presence in Stroud in 1839,
And why was there such a commotion with the meeting on Selsley Hill?

Well, apart from the generalities of the above,
Lord John Russell was not only Stroud’s MP, but also the Home Secretary
And responsible for law, order and the suppression of Chartism;
He was also partly responsible for the terms of the 1832 Reform Act,
Which carefully extended the vote to the middle class
(From the aristocracy),
And deliberately excluded the working classes –
Even though they had borne the lion’s share of the campaigning
To bring about an extension of the franchise;
In addition, areas of declining cloth trade in the south-west
(Somerset, Wiltshire and Gloucestershire),
Were just the type of localities that led women and men to the Charter,
So when the Chartist National Convention was set up in London
(Partly to influence Parliament with the First Petition,
Partly to act as an alternative parliament should the Petition be rejected),
It was no surprise when the JP for Newport, John Frost,
Was chosen to appear on Rodborough Hill in March 1839,
As the prospective Chartist parliamentary candidate
For the next general election,
So as to challenge Russell in a blaze of national publicity
(Frost’s commission of the peace was withdrawn from him in March btw);
Meanwhile, the circulation of the Chartist newspaper the Northern Star
Was reaching 50,000 a week – and its influence far exceeded that:
Read and discussed in home, the workplace, the pub, the chapel, the church,
‘Each copy would go through many hands. Those who could not read would listen as others read to them; and all could discuss’
(Edward Royle: Chartism);
The National Petition was ready for Parliament in early May
(Nearly three miles long with nearly 1.3 million signatures);
Mass meetings were held all over the north in May,
And so Selsey’s mass meeting of 5,000 in May 1839
Slots nicely into view and perspective …

The springtime of 1839 was in some ways the high time for Chartism:
The Petition was rejected in the summer,
Plans for a general strike petered out,
Confused plans for armed insurrection
Such as Newport, November 1839
(Partly to try and free Henry Vincent from prison –
He had been so active in Stroud and the Valleys in the spring),
Only led to Frost’s transportation,
And by 1840, over 500 Chartists were in jail.

1842 saw waves of strikes (the ‘Plug Riots’),
But also widespread use of the telegraph and railways
To speed troop movements;
The Second Petition, with a claimed 3.3 million signatures
Was rejected by parliament,
And the National Charter Association held the movement together,
As it developed so many different local strands:
Teetotal Chartism, Temperance Chartism, Chartist Churches, Chartist Chapels,
The Chartist Land Cooperative Society,
Groupings with middle class organisations such as
The Complete Suffrage Union and the Anti Corn Law League …

The April of 1848 (‘the Year of Revolutions’)
Saw the Third Petition and a state of high alarm in London:
Queen Victoria took refuge in the Isle of Wight,
As parliament sniggered at some of the nearly 2 million signatures –
‘Victoria Rex’, ‘Duke of Wellington’ and ‘Mr Punch’ indeed;
But as Royle points out,
Such names were often used to conceal identity and reprisal;
Or to laugh at, gull and guy authority;
And if some signatures were written in the same hand,
These were not forgeries,
But reflected the opinions of the ’30 per cent of society’ who used an X;
‘Other signatures were dismissed because they were those of women’,
But as Royle points out:
‘Even if the … Commons did underestimate the number of petitioners, a figure of around two million – out of a total population of seventeen million over the age of ten – remains very impressive.’
And even though the events of April are usually portrayed as a damp squib,
Riots continued in the north,
A silent march of 80,000 took place in London,
Street fights with the police broke out in the East End,
Information from police spies and agents provocateurs
Suggested a metropolitan uprising as a national trigger,
But the movement declined and then disappeared into history …
A failure.

Or was it?
It gave the working class confidence and self-belief;
It helped develop a national political culture
Whilst invigorating local diversities;
It politicised factory, mill, workshop, smithy, forge, furnace, loom, lathe, kitchen, bedroom, railway, canal, pub, spinning wheel, club, church, chapel, mechanics’ institute, evening schools, Sunday schools –
In short, it helped develop a working class consciousness,
And it forced the governments of the 1840s to bring in reforms
(Mines Act, Factory Acts, Public Health Act et al)
That otherwise would have been delayed.

Post Script:
Bronterre O’Brien 1837:
‘Knaves will tell you, that it is because you have no property you are unrepresented. I tell you, on the contrary, it is because you are unrepresented that you have no property.’

‘Address of the Female Political Union of Newcastle-upon-Tyne to their Fellow-countrywomen’, Northern Star, 9 February 1839:
‘We have been told that the province of woman is her home, and that the field of politics should be left to men; this we deny … For years we have struggled to maintain our homes … greet our husbands after their fatiguing labours. Year after year have passed away, and even now our wishes have no prospect of being realised, our husbands are over wrought, our houses half furnished, our families ill-fed, and our children uneducated … We are a despised caste, our oppressors are not content with despising our feelings, but demand the control of our thoughts and wants!’

‘The Christian Chartist Church’, Chartist Circular, 29 August 1840;
‘Christian Chartists! … Let us march triumphantly forward on the sacred way that leads to civil and religious liberty, equality and happiness. Let us press towards the glorious goal of Universal Suffrage.’

Charles Buckingham: Gloucestershire’s Jack Sheppard

Charles Buckingham: The Great Escaper

We all know of Spitalfields’ Jack Sheppard,
But what of Cheltenham’s Charles Buckingham?
Footpad on the Gloucester-Painswick turnpike,
Awaiting trial in Gloucester gaol after his capture in Bristol
(He had Bristol connections – when he was in the North Gloucester Militia,
He helped the romantically named Monsieur Dare,
A French prisoner of war, escape from Stapleton Prison;
Charles was court-martialled, but managed to escape and desert.),
He escaped from his cell just before the Christmas of 1808
(By nail, spoon and a ladder of blankets, sheets and mops,
He later said under oath; no inside help, Charles emphasised),
Keeping his freedom until the summer of 1809
(Despite a twenty guinea (oh, slavery!) reward),
When he was incarcerated in New Prison, Clerkenwell,
Almost emulating Jack’s feat there of almost a century before,
With adept fingers, file, nail, and crowbar,
But caught, right at the end with a score of other prisoners;
He was returned to Gloucester, mightily relieved
When his Jack Ketch black cap verdict was commuted;
And so he was bound for the prison hulks in the Thames,
Like Magwitch and Compeyson in Great Expectations,
He and others, chained, leg-ironed and handcuffed,
Rigorously guarded, until a change of horses on the Uxbridge turnpike
Enabled him and two others to escape – both eventually hanged;
But, Mr Buckingham, still not then thirty, tall and avian-like,
With a beak-like prominent nose,
Remained free as a bird:
Where did he fly to?

With many thanks to Jill Evans for permission to use her research at https://gloscrimehistory.wordpress.com/author/jillrevans/

Totally recommend that you visit Jill’s fascinating blog