Autumn Yellowbelly Nostalgia, Humour, History, Poetry and Folklore. The Cliff Villages

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1 THE LINCOLNSHIRE Autumn Yellowbelly Nostalgia, Humour, History, Poetry and Folklore RAF Woodhall Spa countering Hitler s V-Bomb attacks Isaac Newton s radio Louth ladies and doorsteps The Cliff Villages FLYING THE FLAG FOR LINCOLNSHIRE THE QUARTERLY COMPANION TO LINCOLNSHIRE LIFE MAGAZINE

2 THE LINCOLNSHIRE Yellowbelly Nostalgia, Humour, History, Poetry and Folklore DIRECTORY INCLUDING Antiques Gardening (Everything you need for the Garden) Home Life (Home improvement and Furnishing/Design) Fashion Holiday Accommodation Health and Beauty Personals Motoring To advertise please contact Matthew and Mark Tel: Justin Rose, TrackMan owner IMPROVE YOUR GAME WITH TRACKMAN THE ULTIMATE IN GOLF SWING + BALL FLIGHT ANALYSIS Canwick Park Golf Club, Washingborough Road, Lincoln LEAKE S MASONRY LTD James Street, Louth, Lincolnshire Stone masons, new granite and marble memorials, additionals and cleaning work. Tel: Fax: Lincolnshire Life on the Radio On the fourth Thursday of each month you can listen to Caroline Bingham talking about the new issue of Lincolnshire Life on Lincoln City Radio, 103.6FM Drivetime. Tune in to Alan Ritson s show at 5.20pm.

3 THE LINCOLNSHIRE VOLUME 16, NUMBER 3 AUTUMN FATHER OF THE FLOWER PARADE By Jean Rush 09 LINCOLNSHIRE TOKENS By Colin Smale 12 IN A PICKLE By Pauline Thornley 13 FARMHOUSE 40s LINCOLNSHIRE COOKING By Loris Goring 15 JOHN WESLEY S SISTERS PART ONE By Colin Ella 18 STEAM HARVEST By Val Odell 19 THE PART PLAYED BY RAF WOODHALL SPA IN COUNTERING HITLER S V-BOMB ATTACKS By Trevor Kerry and Jim Shortland 28 AUTUMN PICKINGS 1951 By Josephine Eaton 30 YELLERBELLY By Jayne Robinson 31 LINCOLNSHIRE BY PATHÉ By Yusef Sayed 33 THE LIFE OF AUSTIN LEE By John R Ketteringham 35 THE WEDDING By Val Odell 37 JANETTA: A TALE, ALAS, TOO TRUE? By Emma May Smith 42 BEN By Amanda Jacklin 43 A LACEBY PERSONALITY OF YESTERYEAR By Brenda Anderson 44 THE WAR TO END ALL WARS? By Richard Dann 45 LOUTH LADIES AND DOORSTEPS By Amanda Jacklin 48 ISAAC NEWTON S RADIO By Val Odell 49 TREASURE HUNT OR POINTLESS MYSTERY By Mary Walsham 51 DUNSTON SCARECROW WEEKEND By Anita Yorke 53 THE PROLONGED PROCESSION By Ingrid Newman 55 THE CLIFF VILLAGES By Arthur Hazeldine 60 AUTUMN DAYS By Robert Rudkin 61 HEAVEN ON EARTH By Margaret Shephard 62 A YELLOWBELLY VERSE FROM THE PAST By Rev Jonathan E Moore FRONT COVER: BOMBER COMMAND Published by County Life Ltd, County House, 9 Checkpoint Court, Sadler Road, Lincoln LN6 3PW Telephone: thepoacher@lincolnshirelife.co.uk Website: Annual subscription including postage: 11 (inland), 20 (overseas) County Life Ltd

4 THE LINCOLNSHIRE The quarterly companion to Lincolnshire Life THIS IS YOUR MAGAZINE Edited by Caroline Bingham COUNTY LIFE LTD Welcome to the latest editon of The Lincolnshire Poacher. This popular county magazine, which first appeared in the 1950s, was re-launched in 1996 as an annual publication. So enthusiastic were its readers and contributors, it soon became a quarterly magazine, packed with articles, stories and poems about life in Lincolnshire. If you have a Lincolnshire story to tell, have composed a poem with a Lincolnshire flavour or have some Yellowbelly anecdotes, do send them in to us. If you are sending prose, we need a minimum of 600 words. Send your contributions, preferably by , on disc or typed in double spacing, and illustrations if you have them to: THE EDITOR The Lincolnshire Poacher County House, 9 Checkpoint Court, Sadler Road, Lincoln LN6 3PW editorial@lincolnshirelife.co.uk

5 Father of the Flower Parade Francis Hanson MBE, who died in April, was a pioneer in the Spalding bulb industry and a leading light in the town s spiritual and cultural life. Jean Rush looks back at his achievements. by Jean Rush Francis s stepson Michael working a conveyor belt for bunching flowers, invented by Francis Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 3

6 Born in 1925, Francis Hanson lived to celebrate his 90th birthday in April at Springfields Festival Gardens, which he had helped to develop as chairman of the Garden Committee. Springfields was only one of the interests of this remarkable man, his love of music enduring alongside his phenomenal business career. Starting at St Johns Primary School aged five, he joined the choir at St Johns Church and remained a member his entire life. He was founder chairman of the South Holland Singers, in addition to being a member of Spalding Operatic and Dramatic Society and appearing in many of their productions, eventually becoming Chairman of SADOS and committee member for 30 years. For Francis, an interest in horticulture started at an early age, when he visited his parents neighbours in Pennygate, Mr and Mrs Ford, and helped them with chaff cutting and mangel slicing. A main attraction was Mrs Ford s steak and onion pudding, but his entrepreneurial life started there and he decided to buy a small greenhouse and grew tomatoes, selling the produce to neighbours after home consumption had been satisfied. Francis went to Spalding Grammar School, and joined the scouts, where he met his lifelong friend Tom Bray, and for many years the two families enjoyed musical evenings together. The Brays were builders and Francis s father was a draper, so the two families were known as bricks and nicks. School holidays were spent working on the land, and Francis had his first experience of bulbs, putting them in boxes ready for forcing. He also helped with the harvest in those days there were no combines, so it was hard manual work. With his love of horticulture, Francis was given the task at the Grammar School of planting a new hedge round the boundary of Priory Road and Haverfield Road corner. After matriculation, Francis tried working in his father s draper s shop, which occupied a large building on the corner of New Road and Pinchbeck Road. He soon decided that the outdoor life was for him so he went as an apprentice at Nell Brothers to learn the horticultural business. (He had to take with him his own spade, which was polished every time after use!) At this time World War Two was making great changes to agriculture, the bulb acreage had to be drastically cut for more food to be grown, and there was a strict quota for the amount of flowers allowed to be sent to market. Agriculture was at that time a reserved occupation, and Francis was drafted into the war agricultural committee workforce. His job was to pick up Italian prisoners of war and drive them to a farm to do land work. During this time Francis s father bought his first piece of land, but shortly afterwards came call-up papers and Francis joined the Air Force, aged 19. He trained as an electrician, but soon it was all change once again as it was decided there were too many electricians in the Air Force so he was given his demob papers. After exactly two minutes of freedom he was called up into the army and had a number of postings, but was still able to make plans for the land he now owned, putting together a cropping programme handed over to his mother. As Lance Bombardier Hanson, Francis was posted to India, and had his first experience of what was 4 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

7 to become a lifelong love of the sea when he boarded a Union Castle ship to Bombay. During his time in India he became close to some Methodist missionaries, and learned a great deal about the conditions which have given rise to problems of today. Long after everyone had celebrated VE Day at home, the troops were still at war in the Far East, and even after the atom bomb was dropped it took a long time for the forces to return to the UK. With another big ship to bring him home, this time P&O, Francis finally returned to civilian life and lost no time in getting to work on his piece of land. Obtaining materials from various sources, Francis built a packing shed and two small greenhouses, and was soon in full swing. His smallholding expanded over the years, and he introduced several innovations for the bulb industry, including a conveyor belt system now universally used. When flowers started to be imported from all over the world, he decided to change his land into a pig farm, rearing pigs to be supplied to Walls, Adams and Hargraves. After a while, and thanks to a chance conversation in a pub, he started his final business enterprise, and his land was transformed into a bakery for the production of dog biscuits. Again he introduced some innovations, but when he reached 60 he decided to accept a takeover offer from a large company, and retire. Since the very start of his career Francis was involved with the National Farmers Union, as a member of the South Holland Horticultural Executive Committee, and became involved with the Tulip Time committee, responsible for decorating the town and choosing a route for the parade. In the late 1950s a Tulip Queen was chosen at the Tulip Ball held in the old Corn Exchange (now the South Holland Centre), and on Tulip weekend a small procession went from the Market Place along one side of the River Welland to Little London Bridge and back along the other side. This was the beginning of the Spalding Flower Parade. In his autobiography Francis writes: Following the success of this attempt I managed to persuade the NFU Horticultural Committee to take on the task of organising a bigger parade. The following year we had six floats and some bands in the parade, and the whole idea blossomed into an internationally known event doing much good for the town and charities. The annual Parade became a huge annual event attracting visitors from all over the world from 1959 until 2013, when sadly the final Flower Parade was held. In the intervening years tulip fields had largely given way to cabbages and potatoes, and although there are still daffodils grown in the area, tulips are no longer representative of Spalding, but still used on the town s logo. Thanks to Francis, too, daffodils were planted on the riversides, roadsides and roundabouts, which still survive as a token of the town s floral history. Francis gave a huge amount of personal commitment to the development of Springfields Festival Gardens into the major visitor attraction it is today. As a founder member of Publicity for British Bulbs in 1964 and Springfields Horticultural Society in 1966, he played a key role in securing the outlet shopping centre. Says current Chief Executive of Springfields Horticultural Society David Norton: This proved to be crucial in ensuring that Springfields Gardens Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 5

8 Francis as Private Willis in Iolanthe, his first part when he joined SADOS 6 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

9 has become what it is today, nearly 50 years on, a free to enter all-year-round attraction and major visitor destination, as well as an important community leisure resource, and yet still remaining true to the original vision of the gardens being the shop window of the UK flower bulb industry. A tree will be planted in the gardens in Francis s memory later this year. In spite of all these activities, Francis did find time for a private life! On leaving the services he joined SADOS and met a single lady, left by her husband during the war with an eightyear-old son. They were performing in HMS Pinafore and Francis used to go to her house for supper after the performance, taking with him a homegrown cauliflower food was still short after the war. They married after 18 months, in July 1948, and after Julie s retirement as a hairdresser she too took up horticulture. Julie shared his love of singing and they both went to opera and choral productions as well as performing regularly. The multitalented Francis was also in demand to sing songs from the shows at various events. The pair helped out at his father s shop, one of the main shops in Spalding at the time, selling ladies fashion as well as fabrics and bedding, and holding regular fashion parades organised by Julie. Holidays became an important part of their life, and Francis renewed his acquaintance with Union Castle line when they travelled to Madeira for a number of holidays. Francis must be one of the only tourists who took a look at the island s onion business while he was there! They became regular cruisers, travelling all over the world on a number of different ships, from Geest banana boats to major cruise lines, until Julie had a stroke at the age of 80. As her health gradually declined Francis needed help, and that was how he met Barbara, who was nursing full-time but who managed to find Francis some carers to help him at home. Julie finally had to go into a nursing home, and Francis visited her at Gosberton House every day until she died in During Julie s final months, Barbara became a close friend and support to Francis, helping him in many ways to stand the strain of seeing Julie so helpless. Some time after Julie s death Barbara moved in with Francis, and they married in She was still working as a community midwifery sister, being called out at all times of the day and night, and at the age of 55 she decided to retire. After that, the couple were free to travel, and began several happy years of cruising on a number of different ships, culminating in what he called in his memoirs a voyage of a lifetime in 2005 a world cruise aboard Cunard s QE2, now sadly no longer afloat. Although he had a number of illnesses, Francis was able to remain active until the end of his life with the help of Barbara, and a number of mobility aids, even managing a cruise to the Falkland islands. One chapter of his memoirs is devoted to his music. He learned to play the violin and played in the school orchestra, but his ambitions as a violinist were foiled when he broke his collarbone playing rugby. In the forces, whenever there was a choir nearby he would go and sing with them, and his Christian beliefs led him on his return to civilian life straight back to the church choir, and to the South Holland singers. Over 60 years Francis served on Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 7

10 The first Tulip Queen innumerable committees and received many awards, mainly for services to horticulture and public works. He was made a Freeman of the City of London in 1974, and received the MBE from her Majesty the Queen in He showed the Queen Mother around Springfields garden, when she came to celebrate its 25th anniversary and plant a tulip tree. Fifteen years later he greeted Princess Anne when she arrived by helicopter and planted an oak tree to celebrate the first anniversary of Springfields as we know it today. Francis Hanson died on 11th April and was given a wonderful sendoff on 8th May, organised by his loving wife Barbara. The funeral cortège, led by four magnificent black horses, brought Spalding to a halt as it travelled through the town past the many buildings that featured in Francis s extraordinary life. The service was held in the church of St Mary and St Nicholas, where he was a chorister from childhood. It could be said that many aspects of Spalding life were transformed by his work, and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to read his fascinating autobiography, from which many of the facts in this article were obtained. 8 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

11 Lincolnshire tokens by Colin Smale sorry I don t seem to have any small change. How often I m have we heard that expression? Back in the 17th century and just after the Civil War the government thought it undignified to waste precious metal on such insignificant coinage as a humble farthing or halfpenny and so this small change was given very low priority. Throughout the land, ordinary working class folk struggled to buy everyday things such as a loaf of bread, vegetables, even beer etc because small change was in such small supply. Things got so bad that eventually the people of almost every village in the land revolted and decided quite arbitrarily and illegally to take matters into their own hands; they created their own coinage. A trader would design his own coin, a farthing or a half penny with his own name and emblem on it. Ideally it would be given out as small change in that shop and spent there later. Of course this had the added bonus of advertising his shop. However traders tokens became so popular that the coins would be used for purchases in seemingly any shop. One brass token of Thomas Lowther of Burton upon Stather turned up in the Thames mud near the Custom House, London so some of them were very well travelled. These coins are known today as 17th-century traders tokens. No standard sovereign portraits adorned these coins, no flag waving or images of battles won; these coins depicted the local butcher, baker, candlestick maker etc and so are all the more interesting historically. Of course these coins were not struck using precious metals such as silver or gold, they were made of copper or brass. Such was the indifference of the government of the day to this revolt that although they clearly had the power to stamp it out, they ignored it for more than thirty years. Between 1648 and 1679 people power reigned throughout the land, albeit in a small yet significant way. Lincoln struck thirty-nine varieties known at present (unless you have an unknown one in your old button tin!). Small villages of the day such as West Deeping and South Kyme had only one token each. Unlike normal coins of the realm each one of these little traders tokens is a snapshot of an interesting Lincolnshire character of the day, as can be seen in the examples pictured from the collection of local numismatist Mr M O Bee of Grimsby, who kindly allowed me to photograph them for this article. First let s consider the coin struck in 1668, Richard Barber of Gainsbrough (Gainsborough of course). Here is a Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 9

12 Henry Hume half penny 1666 John Atkinson of Louth 1669 John Brassey of Boston character in some kind of a skirt and yet clearly a man. He is holding a bow in his right hand and a huge arrow in his left. Has he just slain some kind of a serpent seen on the ground? Who was he, what does this picture tell about him? Well here is an example of macho man, a bit of self-indulgence. Perhaps he had ideas about being a warrior of some kind but thanks to historical records we see he was actually a mercer and an apothecary. This is an example of the unregulated individualism of tokens; each person could depict whatever they fancied. The heart-shaped token is a rebellious example of this. Robert Wright of Epworth decided not to go the traditional circular coin route; he chose a heartshaped coin simply because he could! Robert Wright of ep:worth in. the isle of haxie. His half peny 1669 The grammar may leave a lot to be desired with few if any capital letters and uneven lines but most of these folk were more workers than scholars; the information written was still crystal Richard Barber of Gainsborough 1668 clear. The octagonal example is from John Brassey of Boston, his half penny. John was a freeman of Boston in 1666 and his trade was as a goldsmith he was also churchwarden. His wife s name was Mary, she died in April You see how much more interesting these little traders tokens are to normal coins when you uncover the history behind them? Why, you may ask, is there an H.H.E in the centre of Henry Hume s half penny? Signs of a happy marriage here; HH is Henry Hume and E is for his wife Elizabeth, obviously loved and important enough in his life to share the honours on this coin struck in Henry was an alderman and magistrate of Grantham. Ever heard the phrase, I couldn t give a brass farthing (I m really not bothered)? Well, here with a little dog sitting in the middle is a brass farthing. Once again, in the centre of the coin are some letters but this time there are only two: TE. Tobias Ellis, what a wonderfully rich, thought-provoking name Tobias is. 10 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

13 Robert Wright of Epworth 1669 Thomas Lowther of Burton upon Stather Tobias Ellis of Lincoln Are we to assume he was more fond of his dog than his wife? This farthing reads Tobias Ellis in the bale of Lincoln. The token struck in 1664 with three Xs in the middle is that of William Ragg (almost certainly a misspelling of the name Wragg) of Spalding, a grocer and merchant. I wonder what the two letters CS in the middle of the crosses are though, because his wife s name was Margaret! The token depicting three barrels (Tuns) is a farthing of Thomas Lowther of Burton upon Stather. He must have had a very busy working life, as he was a bridle maker in a time when horses were the tractors and transport of the day. His wife s name was Mary, she died in This is the actual coin that was found in the Thames mud mentioned above. Finally from this snapshot of Mr O Bee s vast collection is a 1669 halfpenny of John Atkinson of Lowth. John Atkinson was a chandler and churchwarden, his wife s name was Margaret. So why three birds in the centre? On closer inspection these three William Wragg of Spalding 1664 birds are all sporting a crest, almost certainly chickens, cockerels. The spur, seen particularly well on the bird at the bottom may indicate cockfighting, not popular today but a normal sporting pursuit in those days. Inevitably this illegal practice of minting one s own coinage came to an end. Charles II, aware of the rampant fiddling that was now going on, ended this practice. He demanded that new small coinage be designed and minted with his image and so those little pages of history were turned. So here in only eight examples is a peek into Lincolnshire s past. There are all kinds of motifs; scales, insects, deer, castles, coats of arms etc. There are mercers, grocers, drapers, fishmongers, skinners, salters, blacksmiths etc. What an intriguing world there is hidden within these small coins, a type of coin that until recently I didn t know existed. If you think you have one of these old traders tokens, I am sure Mr O Bee would love to hear from you via Lincolnshire Life. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 11

14 In a pickle by Pauline Thornley September brings a surplus Of fruits, roots and berries. Time to find preserving pans And save some pounds and pennies. My pickle pan was passed to me When mum was eighty-four. With fingers bent and swollen She will slice and chop no more. At first I followed recipes. I stuck to what I knew. Soon I would experiment As confidence, it grew. Runner beans and marrows From vegetable plots. Windfalls, bruised and battered, A shame to watch them rot. Wild winds of the autumn Ensure the fruit will fall. Victoria, Conference, Bramley, I can use them all. On Graham s two allotments The harvest has begun. We ll turn his field of plenty Into pots of golden sun. With haslet or a pork pie, Cold chicken or a chop You ll need a jar of chutney From nature s bumper crop. Spicy jars of relish. Chutney, brown and yellow. Mature with love on pantry shelf By Christmas they ll be mellow. 12 Th e L i n c o l n s h i r e P oac h e r A u t u m n 2015

15 Farmhouse 40s Lincolnshire cooking While it is difficult to understand why posh folks buy huge Aga cookers and then take most of their meals in restaurants, there is an even bigger conundrum: How did Aunt Phyllis at Drain Side, Stickford manage to produce miraculous harvest meals on a two burner paraffin cooker, a wash boiler, scrubbed kitchen table and the family tin bath? As a small boy whose food consumption might be described as large, I was even at a tender age able to verify these facts. Second World War-time farmers were as rationed as everyone else but with 500 Rhode Island Reds roaming the field outside the kitchen there was a tendency for a few of their eggs to go missing from the crate that was regularly delivered and collected by the Ministry of Food for other folks with ration books and no hens. Who could not succumb to the temptation when the weekly grocery deliveries hardly filled the corner of the deep basket on the front of Mr Briggs s grocery boy s delivery bike? Mr Briggs had a weathered, very much aged face, but was nevertheless kindly and regular as clockwork in delivering the grocery offering from the sole ancient Stickford grocery shop; its walls lined with wooden drawers that probably had not divulged their contents in years. Old Mr Briggs s cap showed it had seen more than a few years of being by Loris Goring tugged by fingers covered in traction engine oil. However, his beaming face was more than welcome when he said he had a jelly in one of the drawers that lined one wall of the store, and he had brought one for us. Truly, in wartime this elicited an in-drawn breath from all of us. Rowntree s squashy jellies had disappeared but Phyllis was pleased to accept the packet of jelly crystals that might be a treat for the family. Sadly, they weren t. They had probably been in the shop since it was built in a previous century. While still appreciating Mr Briggs s kind thought, the cook muttered that The jelly tasted like Bob o Nights Song. We agreed it tasted like nothing known to man. To a small boy, the Lincolnshire way of serving the pudding before the main course was a tradition of the highest order. Nothing could be better than the large Yorkshire Puddings and apple suet puddings that came out of Aunt Phyllis s paraffin cooker. In fact I was so fond of the apple suet that foolishly Uncle Hubert bet me sixpence that I could not eat a whole one. It came out of a oneand-a-half-pint basin. Sadly for him, I managed it. As a runner-up to those puddings were the harvest field meals. Neighbouring farmers helped each other with the pea and cereal harvests and it was a long day, starting immediately after the dew was off the crops and finishing only when Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 13

16 the harvest moon came up, or the first dew fell. Aunt left the field to prepare a huge food basket of sandwiches and drinks to satisfy ten or twelve harvesters. With the prospect of good harvest weather, my job was to wash out and fire up the washing boiler in an outhouse which would cook the chine. This had been recued from a coffin-sized wooden box, in which it had shared its residence with the rest of the preserved animal over the previous months. Its large, fatty mass was soaked in the family tin bath and attacked with a lethal knife which sank deeply into the flesh at close intervals. The same bath after washing out was taken outside and filled to the brim with a huge quantity of parsley. True, it was a large lump of pig but would I be able to fill every crack with such a quantity? I did and the chine was stuffed into a pillowcase. Although small boys love bonfires, it was a long hot job feeding the fire with wood while the chine boiled away. Aunt said it was vital at harvest time to keep the dairy full of things that could be cut and come again fare that would minimise her time out of the field. As a welcome change, Lincolnshire Haslet delivered fresh by the butcher provided a welcome change from what seemed an everlasting fat pig and parsley. Even better for a small boy was a treat of Lincolnshire Plum Bread at the end of the harvest tea. Other than plum bread, cakes were not on the menu, as they did not fill the large voids in the harvesters stomachs. In the heat of the harvest field it was essential to drink large quantities of liquid that varied between cold tea favoured by the men and ginger beer for a small boy. We had hot tea delivered in a large tin jug with a handle on top at tea time. Chine was not my favourite. I preferred hunks of fresh bread filled with farm butter and haslet and top of my list, that plum bread. Only by the weekend did the cutting and come again at the chine cease and the cook had time to prepare a proper roast dinner and better still get back to apple suet in a large basin or Yorkshire pudding smothered in farm butter, sprinkled with sugar served of course, first. Yes I know we were not supposed to churn butter in wartime but then, it was only a small churn and Daisy, the house cow never complained. 14 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

17 John Wesley s sisters Part 1 Emilia by Colin Ella Gainsborough Bridge in the 1830s Information about John Wesley and the other menfolk in his family is plentiful but there is not so much written about his seven sisters, whose lives also play a significant part in the family history. The eldest of the seven girls, Emilia, was born on the last day of 1692 at the time when the Wesleys lived at South Ormsby, the first of the Rector s Lincolnshire livings. Two weeks later she was baptised by her father in St Leonard s Church at South Ormsby. No doubt her mother was relieved to see the newborn survive, as she had already lost her second child, Susannah and then twins in infancy. The Rectory was a poor dwelling described by Samuel Wesley as a mean cot of reeds and clay. When the family moved to Epworth in 1697 they brought four children with them. Here Susannah Wesley began her strict educational regime for which she is so much remembered. The Wesleys parents hoped that their girls would perhaps become governesses or marry well. Emilia, usually called Emily or Emmy in the family, was a quick learner. She read a lot and wrote in a clear, round hand and became quite a scholar with a liking for music and poetry. Her mother was something of a child bearing machine and Emmy was soon surrounded by a brood of brothers and sisters. Ten of Mrs Wesley s nineteen offspring lived on to reach maturity, a remarkable thing in those days. Not quite possessing her mother s striking good looks, Emily was still a very attractive girl well proportioned, pleasant and sociable. She was a home lover, enjoyed playing cards and welcomed the visits of their Dancing Master. She was seventeen when the Rectory was destroyed by fire in 1709 but stayed in Epworth with her parents at this difficult time. Back in the New Rectory, Emilia talks of the poverty they suffered for years and years after the fire. They had little furniture, scanty clothing and frequently there was no food in the house. Across 1616/17 the Rectory experienced the hauntings of the ghost that Emilia nicknamed Old Jeffrey. Writing about the ghost Emily says, I am so far from being suspicious that I was much inclined to infidelity, so that I heartily rejoice at having such an opportunity of Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 15

18 convincing myself, past doubt or scruple, of the existence of some beings besides those we see. Eventually Emilia did leave home and made for London where she lodged with her uncle, a well-to-do physician. He enjoyed her company and her cheerful, ordered and contented pattern of life agreed with him. At her uncle s home Emmy met Robert Leybourne, a product of Westminster School and later a Fellow of Brasenose College where he took an MA. John Wesley thought highly of him and possibly influenced Emilia, as she fell in love with him. She had only known a few rough and ready chaps at Epworth and here was a beau of quality and breeding. Forgotten were the hardships of Epworth now as she was swept off her feet with Leybourne who was everything she had dreamed of. But Emilia could not obtain work in London and was forced to return home. From here she courted Leybourne by love letters for the next three years. In a letter to her brother John she writes: When anything grieved me he was my comforter; when affliction pressed hard on me he was at hand to relieve me, although our affairs grew no better yet I was tolerably easy thinking his love sufficient to recompense for the loss of and absence of all other worldly comforts. Suddenly the courtship ended. The Wesley brothers were great interferers and Emilia s eldest brother, Samuel junior, seemingly took a dislike to Robert Leybourne. Exactly what he did not like about him we do not know but he had the support of Emilia s mother and between them they broke up the love of the young couple. In fact Mrs Wesley gave her daughter a direct command to end the relationship. Poor Emily was desperately unhappy and amongst a catalogue of hardships in a letter to John she tells him, The loss of Leybourne was the heaviest. For nearly half a year I have never slept half a night, and now, provoked at all my relations, resolved never to marry. However, Leybourne did not put up any fight for Emily and yet four years later she was still in love with him and was always wanting news of him. The whole troubled affair changed Emily completely and she became unhappy and very critical of her fellow human beings. She took up work at a Lincoln Boarding School and was there five years but had to return home to the Rectory at Wroot where the family were living, as Rector Wesley was having to oversee both the Epworth and Wroot livings. Emily was far from happy about this and wanted to get away from home again. So in 1727 she obtained work in a Lincoln Boarding School. She stayed for four years but with a slave driver of an employer who paid poor wages she put in her notice and set up her own school in Gainsborough. She was doubtful whether this venture would be a success but it proved to be so and prospered. At Gainsborough she courted a doctor and she must have been besotted with him, for she described him as a passionate lover. But soon her meddling brothers were criticising her newfound fellow and John complained that he was a Quaker. It may have been John s poking his nose in that caused the couple to have a long and violent argument about politics, for the doctor was a Whig but Emilia was a Tory. Writing about this Emily commented, The dispute lasted for two hours and we parted with mutual resentment, I believe, at least I was thoroughly provoked at him for daring to contradict me so violently it being, you know, my avowed doctrine that an unmarried woman can never be in the wrong in any conversation with a bachelor. So yet another relationship ended and 16 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

19 Emilia felt there was nothing left in life worth valuing. She was never close to her father and when he died her mother lived with her for a time at Gainsborough. It was in the same year as her father died that Emilia did finally marry but she made a very bad mistake. She married Robert Harper, a travelling chemist whose home was in Epworth. It is not known how they met but Emilia may have felt really desperate for companionship. The Harpers lived in Gainsborough, where Emily continued her school. Her husband squandered her money and was irresponsible as a husband and businessman. They had a daughter, Tetty, who lived just a few years. It is uncertain what became of Robert Harper and some biographers claim he went to America taking the family s savings with him, whilst others think he may have died in 1740, the year in which Emilia went to live at John Wesley s London Headquarters. Emilia now grew more and more embittered and her brother, John, slated her for being so ungrateful when she had had advantages to enjoy. He frequently helped all his sisters and it is amazing that he did not lose his temper more often. Even all the bitter exchanges did not break the bond of respect John and Emily had for each other. Emily became a Methodist and she took a lot of criticism for the methods and practices of the Movement, but in the end she did find a faith similar to John s. For the last 20 years of her life Emilia lived in rooms at the Methodist chapel in West Street, London. She helped the Methodist cause by visiting the sick, teaching the women and children, and distributing clothing to poor and needy. In 1750 she did not wish to meet Molly Vazeille, who was to marry John Wesley, as she simply felt too weak and too low in the world to do so. She could hear the Methodist services through her open window after she became confined to bed. She died in 1771 and the age of 79. Her search for love was over. She had loved her mother who at times had failed her; she had loved Robert Leybourne but was driven from him by her family; she had loved Robert Harper who was totally unworthy of her; she loved John Wesley who had often been insensitive to her and now her search was over. The Foundry, Moorfields, London. Previously used as an armaments factory the Foundry was acquired by John Wesley and used as his London Headquarters Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 17

20 Steam Harvest by Val Odell Childhood memories are quite magic And come to mind and make you sigh. They conjure up sights and sounds Of happy days in years gone by. Uncle Davie with his scythe Slicing through the golden corn. Trying stoking up for drying In the sunshine dry and warm. Then the wagons pulled by horses Loaded high with precious grain. Sweating men stack it safely To wait for threshing and pray-no rain. Then it comes this steaming monster Heaving straining scaring birds. Many men will feed and tame it Noise too loud to hear their words. Then it s over monster s gone. Precious grain is safely stored Straw is stacked and men stand weary Proud of their work and golden hoard. But work s not over ploughing started. Long straight lines of God s good earth. Man and beast in perfect rhythm Pacing fields for all they re worth. And all this time, the flocks are tended Cows are milked and pigs are fed God bless our farmers for their labours Keeping men and children fed. 18 Th e L i n c o l n s h i r e P oac h e r A u t u m n 2015

21 One of only two flying Lancasters the three gun positions show clearly The part played by RAF Woodhall Spa in countering Hitler s V-Bomb attacks In 1944 the Second World War entered a new and terrifying phase, when Hitler began launching V-bombs, mainly against the major cities of the south of England but also elsewhere. These doodlebugs or flying bombs, as Londoners quickly came to call them, brought both terror and huge destruction. They were what Hitler (somewhat ironically) labelled his Vengeance Weapons (revenge, presumably, for resisting Nazi aggression). V-weapons have been described as unguided missiles (V1) and ballistic missiles (V2). Fortunately, this advanced technology was also fairly crude, so no guidance system had yet by Trevor Kerry and Jim Shortland been developed which could place the missiles unerringly on specific targets. So they fell with a degree of randomness, which added to the terror element. The V1, at least, announced its presence with a distinctive rasping noise, then went silent before it fell and exploded a moment of considerable panic to anyone nearby. The detonation could take out a whole street. Winston Churchill was so concerned about the effect on morale, as well as infrastructure, that he called up the avuncular figure of Barnes Wallis once more to invent a counter-measure to hold off the V-bomb menace. Wallis had, of course, invented the bouncing bomb for the Dams raid. His task was to find a Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 19

22 The Blockhaus at Watten showing Tallboy damage way of eliminating the manufacturing and storage facilities, mainly in northern France, that fed the V-weapons; but the Germans had buried these deep underground below massive layers of concrete. Conventional bombing would not touch them. So Wallis came up with the Tallboy (and, later, the bigger Grand Slam ) bomb, which had to drop close to the target, detonate, and create a massive crater into which the target would collapse hence the name earthquake bomb. Two criteria were required to deliver this weapon effectively: a skilled bombing force with appropriate aircraft, and very accurate target marking. The personnel deemed most likely to deliver these were 617 (Dambusters) Squadron, which flew the heavy-duty Lancaster bombers and whose crews had developed their own target-marking systems. The squadron was based at RAF Woodhall Spa, on the face of it an unlikely home for such an aggressive force. RAF WOODHALL SPA RAF Woodhall Spa was (and still is but little remains) situated two miles Tunnel in a wood showing curved shape to protect the V-weapons south of the village, just to the west of the B1192. This was the perfect site for a heavy bomber station, although it was a little close to RAF Coningsby, situated a few miles to the south. Work started on the construction of the airfield early in The area was heavily wooded, particularly on the northern perimeter where Ostler s Plantation is situated. One of the special features incorporated into the runway was a brake drum arrester gear manufactured by Mather and Platt Ltd of Manchester. Lancasters would have been fitted with an arrester hook just in front of the tail wheel and these would be used, if required, to reduce the landing run of heavy bombers returning from operations. Although installed at RAF Woodhall Spa this system was never deployed and only used for experiments with the Manchester bomber. The station became fully operational in February 1942 as part of 5 Group Bomber Command, as a satellite to RAF Coningsby. The first unit to arrive was 97 Squadron which moved from Coningsby on 1st March 1942 and was 20 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

23 Tunnels at Mimoyecques deep undergound that were eventually destroyed by Tallboys equipped with Lancasters Mks I and III. One of the most famous raids that took place from RAF Woodhall Spa was the first ever low-level daylight formation raid on the MAN Diesel engine works at Augsburg. 12 Lancasters took part. 97 Squadron supplied six Lancasters and 44 Squadron, flying from RAF Waddington, provided the remainder. The raid was only partially successful because 44 Squadron lost five of their six Lancasters and 97 Squadron lost one. 97 Squadron also took part in several 1,000 bomber raids on the cities of Cologne, Essen and Bremen from here. In early 1943, 97 Squadron moved to RAF Bourn and joined No 8 Group (Pathfinder Force). C Flight was retained at Woodhall to form the nucleus of 619 Squadron which was formed in April They were equipped with Lancasters Mks I and III, and used the new code letters PG. In August of 1943, 617 Squadron moved from RAF Scampton to RAF Coningsby to enable Scampton airfield to have hardened runways. Lancasters had previously taken off from RAF Scampton using grass runways but the heavy bombers were causing severe damage to the grass surface. However, during January 1944 it was decided that 617 needed to be moved to a single-squadron station; RAF Woodhall Spa fitted the bill, so they exchanged bases with 619 Squadron, who moved to Coningsby while 617 Squadron, the Dambusters, transferred to RAF Woodhall Spa and remained there until the end of the war. At this time the Squadron was led by W/C Leonard Cheshire, DSO, DFC. The Officers Mess was housed in the Petwood Hotel in Woodhall Spa, which had been commandeered for this purpose. One problem the squadron faced was that of hitting targets accurately so that Tallboy bombs, in particular, could have maximum effect. During this early 1944 period Leonard Cheshire, aided by S/Ldr Micky Martin, continued their distinctive target-marking experiments. Their technique of dive bombing markers became so successful that 617 Squadron received four Mk V1 FB Mosquitos to do their own target marking, as opposed to relying on Pathfinder aircraft to do Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 21

24 it for them. Their method of marking was so accurate that in April Squadron Mosquitos arrived at RAF Woodhall Spa from the Don Bennett Pathfinder Force. One of the most remarkable operations undertaken by 617 Squadron from Woodhall was Operation Taxable, for which the Squadron had trained for most of May 1944 as part of the D-Day Spoof Raid. Sixteen Lancasters, in two groups of eight, pulled off one of the best bluffs of the war, simulating a large ghost convoy of ships. Each aircraft had a twelve-man crew, including an extra pilot and navigator. They dropped bundles of window (foil, which showed on radar) with accurate timing down the flare shoot of the Lancasters to give the impression, on the German radar, that the French coast was being invaded by ships and landing craft in areas away from the D-Day beaches. This operation demanded superb navigation skills. Barnes Wallis, designer of the Upkeep (Dams Mine) had been working on other free-fall weapons and had designed a large bomb, and Rex Pierson had designed a six-engined bomber, named Victory, to carry it. However, the authorities threw the idea out, telling Pierson and Wallis, The war will not last long enough to develop a brand new bomber and a new bomb. Barnes Wallis, who was working at Vickers in Weybridge, scaled down this large bomb and came up with one weighing 12,000lb (six tonnes) and codenamed it Tallboy. The Tallboy was first used by 617 Squadron, flying out of Woodhall, on 9th June 1944 at the Saumur Railway tunnel in central France. German forces were moving large concentrations of ground troops, tanks, guns, along with heavy artillery to the front line in the area round Normandy. The area was lit up by 83 Squadron (PFF) from RAF Coningsby and the tunnel was illuminated by three 617 Squadron Mosquitos flown by Leonard Cheshire from RAF Woodhall Spa, along with Terry Kearns and Jerry Fawke. Several Tallboys exploded around the tunnel entrance. One direct hit caused the tunnel to collapse onto the railway line and put it out of action. It was some time later in the war before the tunnel was reopened. Leonard Cheshire left the Squadron in June 1944; W/Cdr James Tait took over as the new CO and carried on in the 617 Squadron tradition. Under his leadership the Squadron went on to attack the V-weapon sites, U-boat pens and Tirpitz in northern Norway. In late December 1944 James Tait was posted and the new CO was a Canadian named John ( Johnny ) Fauquier. He led the attack on the Bielefeld Viaduct in central Germany as, once again, the Germans were moving large concentrations of troops and ammunition, which included veterans from the First World War and young boys from the Hitler Youth. The Squadron had been issued in March 1945 with a new 22,000lb (tentonne) bomb code-named Grand Slam, designed by Barnes Wallis. This was in fact a scaled-up version of the Tallboy and was successfully used for the first time when dropped by John Calder on the Bielefeld Viaduct, causing several spans to collapse. For the remainder of the war the Squadron continued attacking targets in Germany with both Tallboys and Grand Slam bombs, their last target being the Eagles Nest, Hitler s mountain retreat at Berchtesgaden, in the German Bavarian Alps. 22 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

25 The concrete dome at Wizernes RAIDS AGAINST THE V-WEAPONS Amid all this activity, the role of 617 Squadron and RAF Woodhall Spa in depleting the V-bomb menace is often overlooked: it occupied a relatively short period between other more famous actions. The sites that were being targeted from Woodhall with respect to V-weapons, and the weapons themselves, need some description. Of the weapons, there were three types of V-rocket. The V1 flying bomb was essentially an unmanned aircraft consisting of the propellant to take the bomb to its target and the explosive to do damage on its arrival. It had an aerodynamic rocket shape, with an engine on top. Hitler s intention was to deploy them on London, to break morale and do maximum damage so that he could concentrate his efforts on the Eastern front. The technology was relatively crude, meaning that precision bombing was not possible, but the scale of damage was impressive. The Allies quickly gained intelligence about the development of the weapons and their launch sites; but it was not until late 1943 that a sustained campaign of bombing against them began. There were two kinds of target for the Allies: the storage bunkers and supply routes through which the rockets were transported to their launch points (much of this infrastructure was buried below ground), and the launch pads themselves (consisting of concrete sloping ramps, up which the bomb travelled on a rail until becoming airborne), often located in wooded and heavily camouflaged areas. While the V1s did not have the strategic effect intended, Hitler began to develop the V2. These were much larger and were launched vertically, like spacecraft indeed, they were an early development of the space rocket. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 23

26 V1 on a launcher at a ski-site Again they were hidden away in concrete bunkers dozens of metres below ground, and served by subterranean tunnels. Even more disturbing was that by 1944 the Germans were developing the V3. This continued the theme, but the plan was to increase its power and range by running the fired missile up a vertical tube. The tube had, at intervals, smaller booster charges so that every ten metres or so the rocket would have its speed further enhanced by these detonations. Due to the limited range of these early rockets they had to be sited as near to the targets (London and other big cities) as possible which meant in the area around the Pas de Calais, and just back from the coastal strip eastwards towards Belgium. Records for 617 Squadron based at RAF Woodhall Spa mention a number of such sites by name: Wizernes, Eperlecques/Watten, a special target in a wood, Mimoyecques, Siracourt, Creil and Rilly La Montagne. Wizernes (now incorporated into the museum at La Coupole) was an underground facility built into the chalk cliff with a massive domed roof, sventy-two metres across, and several metres thick, supported by huge concrete buttresses. It was situated south of the rail line between St Omer and Boulogne. While this facility was planned for the launch of V2s, the V1s could be launched from a wooded area not far away. Here a massive system of concrete shelters was built, each shelter curved, so that rockets could be stored in them under the cover of the trees and protected from blast by the curvature of the shelter. The V1s were moved up one by one to a kind of ski-jump a concrete 24 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

27 V2 rocket ramp pointed in the right direction for the target and once fuelled could set off over the countryside in the direction of Britain. At Eperlecques (the Blockhaus at Watten), the plans were far more ambitious, with V3 weapons very much on the agenda. Here the scale of the building above and below ground, and the sheer depth of concrete, is awesome. Siracourt was more of a work in progress: from autumn 1943 until mid-1944 the Allies bombed the area repeatedly; although the Germans continued to work on it, it was destroyed before it could inflict damage. 617 Squadron played a major role in the depletion of Hitler s V-weapon capacity. What follows are details some of their raids, though it should be noted that other bomber squadrons peppered the areas with lower-powered bombs while 617 was called upon to drop the huge, new Tallboys. As far as can be deduced from the Operational Reports, 617 s first sortie took place on 16th December 1943, not from Woodhall but from Tempsford, against an undefined target in France. The raid was experimental, and part of a process to see how 617 got on as part of the Pathfinder force. It was not a success: the Pathfinder Mosquito dropped its marker incendiaries 350 yards off the target, and though all the 617 bombers bombed within ninety-four yards of the markers, the bombs were in the wrong place. Another raid, on , started from Coningsby and targeted a ski site in Pas de Calais. This time, pilots W/Cmdr Cheshire and S/Ldr Martin dropped markers but they skidded because of the narrow dive angle and proved ineffectual in guiding in the bombers. It was time for a rethink. On , 617 Squadron moved to RAF Woodhall Spa. Martin discovered he could dive-bomb markers to the target from 400 feet rather than dropping them from 12,000. With the technique of marking the target area thus improved, on 21st January 1944 the squadron bombed the ski-site wood with 10,000lb and 500lb bombs; and then returned on 25th for a second time. Having disrupted the launch site, on 19th June 1944 the squadron set off for the V-base at Watten. The area had been hit previously, in 1943, as a result of which its use had been limited to the production of the liquid oxygen propellant. The raid was not a Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 25

28 great success due to cloud cover over the target. The same fate befell a raid on 20th June 1944, to Wizernes. The nineteen aircraft had to be recalled because cloud developed over the target. Cloud cover was a problem for two reasons: the target itself became obscured; but the Tallboy bomb had to be dropped from height to have its effect. On 22nd June, three Mosquitos and seventeen Lancasters headed for Wizernes. One aircraft, coded K, flown by Flt Lt Teddie Edward proved unserviceable and did not take off; but that was insignificant to the outcome as weather again defeated the raid. Then on 24th June sixteen Lancasters, guided by two Mosquitos, again left Woodhall for Wizernes. One did not return Flt Lt Edward s aircraft; more that below but the Operational Log says: This raid was a success and two bombs hit the heavy bunker causing a collapse of the cliff face into which it was built. While the target was not physically destroyed the area was so badly damaged that further work (i.e. by the Germans) was called off. The next day Cheshire, the Commanding Officer, flew a new Mustang aircraft as marker, while two Mosquitos and seventeen Lancasters bombed Siracourt. While the site was not destroyed it was put out of action. On 4th July the squadron headed off, this time to an Area Dump at Creil, near Paris, where V1 parts were stored in chalk caverns. July 6th saw the squadron at Mimoyecques, a V3 site where Hitler planned, and had begun executing, the construction of the massive gun whose barrels were underground with groundlevel exits to fire his V3. One bomb scored a direct hit and again put the site out of action. This was Cheshire s last raid with the squadron and he was succeeded by W/Cmdr Tait. July 17th was marked by the exit of sixteen Lancasters to Wizernes, where F/O Sanders claimed a direct hit from Lancaster ME 562 (Z) from 18, 640 feet. The Tallboy bombs (weighing in at 12,000lbs) caused a landslip and subsistence to the building that rendered it unsafe. A further sortie to Wizernes on 20th July was abandoned because of cloud cover; but there was more luck at Watten on 25th where four or five direct hits were claimed; though heavy flak damaged three aircraft. On the last day of the month the squadron attacked railway tunnels at Rilly La Montagne where V-bombs were stored. The final sortie against the V-bombs at Siracourt (on 1st August 1944) was abandoned owing to poor visibility; after that the menace was sufficiently subdued to allow 617 to concentrate on submarine pens during the rest of the month, and then prepare for and execute the raid on Tirpitz that was finally successful on 13th November. Despite the overall success in ridding Britain of the V-menace, there were costs. Earlier, mention was made of Flt Lt Edward. Sadly, on 24th June 1944, on his straight and level run to the target at Wizernes, his port engine was hit by flak and the plane exploded. Of the crew, three (Flt Sgt Hobbs, Sgt Brook and F/O Pritchard DFC RCAF) managed to bail out over the village of Leulinghem; they quickly became prisoners of war. One was killed and one died of wounds; they (F/O King DFC RAFVR and F/O Johnston DFC RCAF) are now buried in the nearby cemetery at St Omer. Three (John Teddie Edward DFC, F/O Price RCAF and Flt Sgt Sam Isherwood) died 26 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

29 Graves of Flt Lt Edward, Flt Sgt Isherwood and FO Price at Leulinghem instantly, but their bodies were claimed by a Frenchman at considerable personal risk; he had them buried in the quiet churchyard of Leulinghem, where they rest together in graves neatly tended by the War Graves Commission. IMPORTANCE OF RAF WOODHALL SPA AND THE MEN WHO FLEW FROM THERE Woodhall Spa has a glorious place in the history of the victory of WW2. Home of the illustrious 617 Squadron it could not fail but to have a fine reputation. But in recalling the Dams and the Tirpitz raids, one should not lose sight of the other special duties that the squadron was called upon to perform from its station. Names like Cheshire and Tait ring out over the years, and so do those of Shannon, Maltby and Munro. But success was down to the supporting cast too like the crew of DV403 which was hit by flak on 24th June Experienced, courageous and dedicated, they flew until killed or captured. So we end with a quotation from the DFC citation from just one of those crewmen F/O King. King was not a regular officer, but a member of the RAF Volunteer Reserve. Yet he flew alongside his comrades from the regular RAF and crews recruited from the Empire. His DFC had been awarded in October 1943 when he was still a Pilot Officer. It read: As flight engineer, Pilot Officer King has completed many sorties and displayed skill and keenness of a high order. On one occasion, at an early stage of a daylight sorties (sic) against Le Creusot, Pilot Officer King was badly injured in the face by flying splinters when the windscreen of his aircraft was shattered. Although in considerable pain and unable to see, this gallant flight engineer refused to allow other members of the crew to leave their stations to come to his aid Upon recovery, Pilot Officer King resumed operations and has executed his duties with rare zeal. The names of many of these men are now recorded on the memorial which marks the entrance to Woodhall Spa, on the site of the Royal Hydro Hotel which was itself destroyed by bombing in This article is a result of a visit, led by Jim Shortland, to the Pas de Calais area of Northern France with a group made up of members of the Royal Aeronautical Society, Cranwell, Sleaford and District Legionnaires Aeronautical Society and friends of the two groups. For further information about either group, contact tk.consultancy@ntlworld.com Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 27

30 Autumn pickings 1951 by Josephine Eaton Half-term loomed. Now we were all aged 13, Our class could earn some needed cash. Annie knew where it might be best. Twelve went to the phone box. Five squeezed in with Ann, six of us crowded round outside. She put 4 pennies in the slot, then pressed button A :... okay, we ll all be there at 8 o clock. We re looking forward to next week. She pressed button B, one penny was returned. 12/6d, per a day she crowed to us. That s 25 shillings for two days, we whooped happily. Sandwiches in Dad s old knapsack on the following Monday And I caught the early trolley bus to the bus station in our town; Up the stairs, a dense blue fog, miners smoking day s first fags. Off that bus, met the rest, then we piled on to a Lincs Green, Leaving city grime behind, admiring autumn countryside, Alight here, Pickers, the conductor shouted to the upper deck. 28 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

31 Striding along, the rutted lane, fields on either side, Saw Farmer Brown, handing out pails, Start potato picking here. Me? Told to pick out all the reds, These would be for next year s seeds. All day we toiled with just three breaks and soon the truck was full. At 5pm we straightened up, then tottered down the lane, Caught the bus back into town, we had never felt so whacked. Off again the following day at six, with a flask inside my bag, Delicious cocoa, made by Mam. Keeps up your strength, she said. Morning break, gulped it down, a lovely warming drink; As I bent to resume my work it all burped out into the mud. A few minutes later we got a shock, The tractor had come to a sharp stop. No work for now. Go to the woods. Come back here at 12 o clock. Soon we were climbing stalwart trees, Giggling, shouting, a few scraped knees. Then back at noon to the farm to be told, Tractor s broke down. No work today. Here s 18 bob. Be on your way. Disappointment at loss of pay, Our spending plans had gone awry. Next day at school the teachers frowned At their pupils sagging backs, puzzling at Why we were in pain... We never went picking spuds again. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 29

32 Yellerbelly by Jayne Robinson I m an Onorary Yellerbelly, but feelin quite forlorn, Cause in Lincoln s county, I sadly wasn t born. I m really rather flummoxed cause although quite near I was actually born in neighbourin Cambridgeshire. Out of four grandparents, three wuz country folk An it s rubbed off on me, it surely is no joke. Inside this Townie body, me soul is countrified I put me best foot forrard and on me grid I ride. I don t ave airs nor graces, I don t anker for Jimmy Choo Me shoes are trainers, mostly, clartered in rabbit poo. I ent frit of ard labour, as me ol wuck shut I don, And when the weather turns unch, like, a gansey I ll put on. I can t stand people ormin when its silin down wi rain Specially the rum uns who are chunterin on again. They chelp an cheek their elders, an younger folks an all, Loiterin on street corners an sittin on yon side wall. I dislike lots o kelter, it meks me wanna boak, Or mek an effort an tek it to the shop to the charity bloke. I start to feel cross-obbled an start to jiffle about. Until I twig on to slew it round an clear the rubbish out. Me dad taught me how to do woodwork, and how to wire a plug, E taught me to make a sneck fer a gate, an how to ding a lug. Me Nana made roast taters to go wi the loverly grub, An I always ate me orts up before I jumped in the tub. I mayn t be Lincolnshire true bred, but I do have Lincolnshire blood Running through me townie veins, an I ope it meks me good. So while I talk to that ol boy bout what s bin on the telly. Remember me, an spread the word, o the Onorary Yellerbelly. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 30

33 Lincolnshire by Pathé by Yusef Sayed Thanks to an initiative by the famous news company British Pathé, more than three thousand hours of footage of twentieth-century history can be viewed online for free, and many fascinating sights and events from Lincolnshire s past can be newly discovered. In April ,000 videos were uploaded to YouTube by British Pathé, making the entirety of its newsreel archive available to view for free. Between the company, which operated under several names during the century, provided news and entertainments that were shown in cinemas. Founder Charles Pathé was an innovator in the early days of cinema. His French heritage is remembered in the cockerel logo that is stamped in the top right hand corner of each video. The films span the silent era and the transition to sound in the late 1920s. British Pathé captured many historical events including the death of suffragette Emily Davison in 1913, and the Hindenburg Disaster in Alongside wartime newsreels, there are whimsical shorts on British pastimes, unusual people, a visual history of Royal visits across Britain and reports on countless sporting fixtures. British Pathé could eventually no longer compete with television as the audio-visual news was brought into the home. Its archive was digitised in Managed by Mediakraft and ready to stream on YouTube, the availability of all of British Pathé s videos now means that an invaluable resource for members of the public, researchers, journalists and school pupils alike can be accessed at the click of a button. The search function within British Pathé s YouTube channel allows viewers to navigate in their own specific way and call up all manner of once forgotten clips. Search Lincolnshire and these are just some of the images you will find. The first listing is of scenes sadly all too familiar to viewers today: a local report on severe flooding within the county in Then as now, though, the determination among residents to keep calm and carry on is evident. Elsewhere, the archives serve up fascinating advertisements for the City of Lincoln. Two dating from 1935 and 1942 offer a sightseers history of the city in several minutes and the moving images of the streets and landmarks as they were then allow us to gauge just how much of the past is preserved in stone today. Across the county, the developing infrastructure of the 1900s is recorded, through informative reels on local business. A video titled

34 Grimsby s Trade Stimulant (1934) captures the opening of the fishing port which played such a vital role in the economy. Since British Pathé thrived as a news source during two World Wars, it is not surprising that Lincolnshire s aviation heritage makes up much of the footage from the county. A service for Bomber Command at Lincoln Cathedral held in 1949 takes us back to the difficult post-war period, and capture the mood closer to the time, as we now prepare to commemorate with new tributes and memorials. In 1967 the Dam Busters held their twenty-fourth anniversary reunion at RAF Scampton and this too is recorded for posterity. Indeed, it s not only the losses of the wartime era that are recalled through the news archive but the camaraderie and precious moments of joviality among the forces too. You might not believe that a baby elephant was presented to the RAF, again at Scampton, as a mascot in 1968, but the wonderful video footage of Baby Elephant Presented to RAF (1968) proves it. Annual events such as the Burghley Horse Trials are publicised throughout the years and the rich blooms of Spalding s daffodils and tulips are given much emphasis in various videos about the town s famous Flower Show. One video focuses on the hard work of the Flower Girls of Lincolnshire out in the fields in 1929, while another captures the colourful displays on show at the festival in The Haxey Hood game might be a traditional event still unknown to many even within Lincolnshire, but thanks to frequent reporting on the game over the years, its origins and rules can be learned by all, as in Old Game Has Airing (1962). The community spirit and eccentricity in these videos is heartening. Few will fail to be held by the images of the Haxey Hood game taken in The vibrant tones on the hats, the painted doors of the local houses, the outfits worn by the local men and boys, and the hazy, late winter light falling on the village as the game is enjoyed. These videos and more can now be viewed by visiting www. youtube.com/britishpathe. Selected weblinks: Lincolnshire Flooding (1953): youtube.com/watch?v=idrap0dwvb0 Lincolnshire Burghley Horse Trials (1966): watch?v=7hfrwxu-vxg Flower Girls of Lincolnshire (1929): ESQnyyY Dam Busters Reunion (1967): youtube.com/watch?v=rhrt2uf6tb8 My Lady s Hat (1960): youtube.com/watch?v=wnv7wz0c2ww City of Lincoln (1935): youtube.com/watch?v=fnkuydfauay Lincoln (1942): watch?v=maj9iaabxhe Grimsby s Trade Stimulant (1934): Flower Power (1968): com/watch?v=tlqa_jekt10 Baby Elephant Presented to RAF (1968): watch?v=66zffb_zhw4 32 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

35 The life of Austin Lee by John R Ketteringham Austin Lee was a cleric who appears to have been particularly popular with his parishioners but at the same time he was a controversial figure. He set out to combat religious apathy but described the bishops as timid little men. He was the only son of a brilliant clergyman and was brought up at Claxby near Market Rasen although actually born at Keighley, Yorkshire in He was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge where he graduated with a BA in He entered Wells Theological College after graduating and his first curacy was at Kew where he served until From 1931 until 1933 he was a chaplain in the Royal Navy. Lee returned to Claxby as vicar in 1944 and for a time he considered resigning in order to contest a Parliamentary seat. Whilst at Claxby he issued a number of broadsheets which might well be likened to the political pamphlets of the eighteenth century. When Clement Attlee became Prime Minister in 1945 Austin Lee sent him an open letter which was widely quoted in the press. Referring to the appointment of a new bishop of Lincoln, Lee said: Names for this bishopric will be suggested to you. Among them will be men who have given offence to nobody, men who are colourless in their observances, inclining neither to the high or the low. Reject them all. Austin went on to declare, What was wanted for bishops were holy and humble men of heart who would attract men and women to the church by the power of love. In 1948 Austin Lee left Claxby and accepted the living of St Stephen s, Hounslow where he remained until Austin Lee became a feature writer with the Daily Mail and also the Daily Mirror. He was always a controversial figure and he had a number of provocative and controversial newspaper articles published. He gave Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 33

36 up his living because he said, the Bishop dislikes me. He alleged, That the church was full of humbug and bootlicking appointments only go to those who can be guaranteed to give no offence. He went to live in Galway, Ireland where he remained until returning to the priesthood in 1958 as curate in charge of West with East Allington and Sedgebrook, moving to Carlton as Rector in In 1961 he became Rector of Willoughby with Sloothby and in 1963 became curate in charge of Mumby, leaving Lincolnshire later that year to become vicar of Great and Little Paxton, Huntingdonshire. In 1964 he produced a satirical leaflet in which he suggested that the shabby old fashioned parson should be replaced by a musical prayer wheel! He had become somewhat bitter with congregations as well as bishops and he alleged that the average church congregation contains a galaxy of the meanest, most malicious backbiting, narrow-minded and bigoted members of the community. Under the pseudonyms of John Austwick and Julian Calendar he wrote a number of detective stories and he was a member of the National Crime Writers Association. In 1959 he appeared on the BBC television programme Tonight when he was interviewed concerning Miss Hogg the heroine of a number of his detective stories. He also did some work on film scenarios and during his breaks between clerical appointments he worked in turn as a chef, barman and schoolmaster. In 1954 his autobiography Round Many a Bend was published. Life was never dull for Austin Lee and he deserves to be remembered as a very gifted and most colourful campaigning clergyman. He certainly earned the title conferred on him by the press as a cleric with a broom. Austin Lee died in January 1965 and the funeral service took place in the chapel of Trinity College, Cambridge. His ashes were interred in the family grave at Claxby. 34 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

37 The wedding The village was in a high state of excitement. The daughter of a local farmer was to marry the son of a neighbouring farmer, thereby uniting the two farms. The whole village was invited. Weeks before the great day, we schoolchildren were making banners and streamers, cutting coloured paper into confetti and painting jam jars in various rainbow colours. The WI were to make the cake five tiers and square! No one had had a square wedding cake before so it was special. The reception was to be held in the marquee for the family and in the large barn for all the villagers. The day before the wedding all was panic. Villagers rushing round with various cleaning tool, the church was polished from roof to floor and the windows were all brushed down. A red carpet laid from door to the altar was covered in sheeting to keep it clean. Then all our jam jars with a candle in sand to hold it steady were placed in every nook and cranny and all round the window sills. The banners, wishing Long life and happiness the names of the happy couple and biblical phrases, (One that I thought more suitable to harvest May your union be fruitful or perhaps they were having an Apple picking Honeymoon, but I was only eight years old) were hung inbetween the windows. Great swathes of evergreen were draped round the pews, the font and any place that would hold greenery. Herbs would be added on the wedding day. The altar was a riot of colours, all beautifully arranged by the WI. Outside the path was swept and our streamers flew from the by Val Odell trees and hedges. The marquee and the barn were also decked in greenery and streamers, a piano in the barn gave hope that there would be dancing later. Chairs all round the sides and benches down the middle for the villagers. The marquee had tables with cloths on and flowers in the middle the social ranks being observed. All was ready. The wedding day dawned bright, warm and sunny. The villagers turned up in their best clothes men in suits that only came out for weddings and funerals and were a little tighter each year. The ladies in their floral dresses and flowery hats, balancing on rarely worn high heels looked very festive. All the children had an assortment of clothes, some obviously hand me downs, and rather large, but everyone looked splendid. The church was now beautiful, all our carefully painted rainbow jars held a lighted candle and twinkled in the gloom like rare gems, and the smell of the herbs was wonderful. Then the organ played Here Comes the Bride and she walked down the aisle in a gown of palest cream covered in tiny seed pearls. Magical. She was barefoot as village tradition decreed. Six bridesmaids in frilly pink dresses and white shoes followed. I know at least one pair of shoes was white washed! Money was spent wisely and there was no call for white shoes on a farm. They all carried bouquets of wild flowers and had wild flowers in their hair. The bride s veil was held in place with creamy white briar roses, picked that morning by her father. The bride and groom looked so happy they took their vows, then during Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 35

38 the last hymn, the groom rushed off to the porch to get his first gift for his wife : a pair of shoes, to signify that he would never let her go without. She in turn gave him a new pair of braces, saying his trousers would never fall down. The whole congregation roared with laughter the joke was lost on me! We children were ushered outside with our confetti, to form a Guard of Honour. As the happy couple passed by, each child was given 1 shilling a fortune in those days. Then the confetti was thrown and we all moved to the reception in a state of hungry expectation. The WI had been very busy cooking, and we were not disappointed. Great joints of roast pork sizzled on the tables and the WI ladies carved great slices these were between two slices of bread with stuffing on. No plate or cutlery, just a serviette, then you sat in family groups and ate. Home made beer and wine for adults, Applejax for the children. This was followed by apple pies and if you were still hungry, mounds of jam sandwiches (but what jam, the fruit just oozed out). All this in the barn, while in the marquee, with plates and cutlery, exactly the same food was eaten. When all had finished, the villagers all trooped into the marquee to hear the speeches and witness the cutting of the magnificent square cake, all covered in little daisies made of icing. We all had a piece and the children all had a daisy. A little break to feed the animals, milking etc and we all met in the barn for singing and dancing as the sun went down. When all the drink had gone, all the jam sandwiches eaten and the pork dripping and bread had disappeared we went home, very full, very happy and very tired. Sunday was another day and we had all the tidying up to do, but it was all worth it. A sad ending to this happy day. About four years later, the young man was killed in a farm accident leaving his wife with two small children. I couldn t help wondering if at the funeral, the young lady remembered how beautiful the church had looked when she was married. 36 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

39 Janetta: a tale, alas, too true? by Emma May Smith The old widow scribbled as she sat in her tiny room. The warden would soon come to check on her and that everything was neat and tidy. The warden was a kind woman and indulgent, yet Janetta owed her a show of gratefulness for what she received from the poorhouse and would do the little cleaning she could manage. But until then, she wrote. She also owed it to her friends to write, to fulfil what she had pledged to them in another act of gratefulness. The gentlewomen of the town had given her so much: food, clothing, comfort most of all the comfort of visitors, the warm friendship in these hard years that she was bound by such charity to give back. And if they only wanted the story of her life, the tale of the woe which had afflicted her, why should she not oblige? The good people of Brigg had been so obliging to her. At first she was apprehensive to write about her life, to commit to paper the stories she had already told her numerous acquaintances. To tell her life in snippets to visitors was manageable, as each fact could be related alone and left for the listener to piece together. Yet it was a wrench to pass by each event in turn, described in full and minute detail, building up the very same emotions she had felt as it happened sixty years ago. It was melancholy enough to have lived her life once. But there was something more about Janetta than her sad situation. A few of the older visitors remembered her story from when she had lived in Brigg twenty to thirty years ago; but for the others it was clear from her manners, the way she spoke and how she carried herself, that she had known a much different life in her youth. The tales she told were of a gilded society from which she had been so tragically banished. She had lived at the very peak of society beyond what these middling gentlewomen could even imagine but was now an inmate of the poorhouse and destitute but for the charity of strangers. Janetta had fallen far. So very, very far. Janetta s life had begun inauspiciously some seventy years earlier. She was born around 1740 on the island of Madeira. Her father, John Scott, was a wealthy merchant and her life should have been one of leisure and comfort from the start. But her mother died in childbirth and before Janetta reached her first birthday she was sent away to be raised in London. She was entrusted to the care of Admiral John Byng later to be so grievously executed for his supposed failure at Minorca who had called at the island. Janetta arrived in England a virtual orphan and was wholly dependent on the goodwill of the Admiral. It was Janetta s greatest fortune that the Admiral had two sisters a Mrs Stukely and a Lady Masters both widowed and childless, who welcomed the Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 37

40 new arrival into their home. They were to be her family, her mothers, who would raise and nourish her and open the doors of high society. They had similarly taken in John Somerset, the illegitimate son of a nobleman, who rounded off Janetta s surrogate family. Mrs Stukely s close friendship with Lady Bute whose husband, the Earl of Bute, was a confidante of the Prince of Wales and would later become Prime Minister led to Janetta being schooled with their daughter, Lady Caroline Stuart. They spent ten years under the same governess, growing up almost as sisters, widening Janetta s patched-together family yet further. John Scott barely saw his daughter throughout her childhood, only reappearing sporadically and always bearing a cold manner toward her. He did, however, arrange for her to be introduced into society the formal announcement that she had matured and was now eligible to be courted with her own ball at the age of fourteen. Mrs Stukely directed the affair, to create a sumptuous and first class event of the latest fashion. Janetta was the centrepiece in a dress of pink silk with silver fringe, and a jewelled feather in her hair. Janetta s father made a gift of diamond 38 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

41 Brigg Marketplace 1837 earrings and ring for the occasion, and presented her into society maybe the most fatherly thing he would ever do for her. Soon afterwards he made a further gift: a gold watch as a reminder that time was precious. It was a lesson Janetta immediately took to heart. The following months and years saw Janetta go from one social engagement to the next, seldom apart from Lady Caroline who was her constant companion. Balls, concerts, opera, theatre, even the odd game of bridge with a duke; they were always among nobility, dignitaries, and even royalty. At a masquerade which she attended as a flower girl while Lady Caroline dressed as a shepherdess she was accosted by an unscrupulous man but saved by the intervention of a chimney sweep who turned out to be Prince Edward, the Duke of York. Their life was one of endless leisure with their only care being society gossip about who was a bore and who a cuckold. The only break being when, in their conscience, they would sometimes deign to visit the poor and distribute alms. Above all the pursuits of the two young women was the company of gentlemen. They were always aware of potential future husbands, but the sheer pleasure of witty and engaging company was not beyond propriety. Two brothers of foreign extraction delighted them with music and by virtue of their obvious refinement became regular guests. Sometimes the girls would sing and the brothers accompany them on the flute and violin; other times Lady Caroline would play the harpsichord while one of the brothers sang Italian opera. The girls most favoured gentleman was John Somerset, who had grown to become a dashing young officer in the Royal Navy. His return and departure from service caused ripples of excitement and sadness among the girls. Upon his leaving for a posting to Gibraltar they presented him with miniatures of themselves, and even adventured to Portsmouth where they were welcomed onto his ship with a gun salute. Though he was almost a brother to Janetta and so never a marriage candidate, Lady Caroline announced shortly after Somerset left that she had her heart set on him alone. It was another officer, home from India after several years in the army, who won Janetta s heart. Lieutenant William Blair was the brother of Dr Blair, a family Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 39

42 friend. William had amassed a small fortune in India and even Janetta s own father expressed opposition to whatever cruelties he must have done to obtain it. But she was lovestruck: I laid awake to think, and slept but to dream, of Blair. He was likewise overcome by Janetta and, though there was no open declaration of love, they flirted like mad. Lady Caroline joked that they should elope to Gretna Green and wed at once. It seemed that the only thing holding Lieutenant Blair back from declaring his love and proposing marriage to Janetta was his desire to become a Captain before he wed. He feared that he might need to return to India to acquire it and so delayed any plans. When Janetta received the news that her father had once again returned to England unannounced it was with great dismay. Not only had she no real love for him, but he brought with him his new wife. Janetta s relations with her stepmother were even colder than those with her father, though nobody took a liking to Mrs Scott. According to gossip she was illiterate and ill bred, and chose her companions solely on how much they fawned over her. The new Mrs Scott was presented at court soon after her arrival. Everybody expected Janetta to be invited to accompany her stepmother at the presentation, but she was spurned and Mrs Scott chose a stranger instead. At a concert the same night to which Janetta was invited only by coincidence Mrs Scott observed Janetta dropping her fan and saw that it was retrieved by her former defender the Duke of York. A trivial thing, but one which Mrs Scott would open to her own interpretation. The morning after the concert Blair received notice that he had been promoted to Captain. Janetta and Lady Caroline hoped he would now declare his intentions openly indeed it was anticipated by everybody who knew the couple. But Blair, having earlier lost hope of promotion, had already signed on to return to India without telling Janetta and was duty bound to leave. Maybe their love would have waited were it not overtaken by events. Janetta s father and stepmother attempted to arrange a marriage between her and a young wealthy gentleman from the island of Saint Kitts in the Caribbean. The offer would have given her an income of 800 a year a fair sum but Janetta rejected it out of hand for the sake of her love for Captain Blair. Her father took the refusal as a slight and forbade her to wed anybody else if she would not accept whom he had chosen. The event of Janetta s downfall came some months later and from an unlikely source. The Duke of York was advised by his doctor that he should travel to Italy, for the air would improve his health. Mrs Scott began to maliciously put it about that the Duke and Janetta were intimates she had heard of his intervention at the masquerade and had herself seen him pick up Janetta s fan among other clues and that he intended to carry her off as his mistress. Her father believed the insinuations completely, supposing that it was Janetta s intimacy with the Duke which made her refuse the marriage. He arranged for Janetta to be removed from London for her own safety. In just a few short days Janetta was exiled to a remote farm near Richmond in Yorkshire and forbidden from writing to any of her friends in London. She lived in lonely grief with a widow and her daughters for many months, receiving only a single letter from London. Months 40 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

43 passed with Janetta making what she could of her time. She rode her horse in the surrounding country and developed a friendship with the widow s eldest daughter. She also began an acquaintance with the young son of a local farmer who had been apprenticed as a watchmaker and often visited the farm: Thomas Norweb. He was careless with business and bad with money, and had forsaken watchmaking after the collapse of his first venture. But word came in quick succession of the deaths of Mrs Stukely, Captain Somerset, and most grievously, Lady Caroline. Janetta was destroyed by the news. Those who could have defended her against her father and stepmother were gone. Hope of returning to London began to fade. She held out on the belief that Captain Blair would save her, but more months passed without reply from him in India. After a year in exile she snapped. Janetta eloped with Thomas Norweb to Scotland and wed. Now she could never go back to her old life. Life with Thomas began hopefully, if uncomfortably. He found a way back into watchmaking with an opening at Wetherby. For a few years they managed well enough. But Janetta s lack of experience with household economy and Thomas s inability to apply himself and marked preference for shooting rather than work soon left them destitute. With a growing family but declining business Thomas was made bankrupt. They began again in Selby, thrived for a little while, but failed once more. Not cut out to manage business for himself, Thomas applied for whatever employment he could find, given his skills. He took the first offer which came to him, to work for a watchmaker in the town of Brigg. Here Janetta soon made friends with some of the gentler residents and rebuilt a shadow of her former social life. She once again enjoyed company, even if so provincial in comparison, and delighted others with her singing. A friend encouraged them to go into business once more and with a small gift to help them get started the Norwebs began a silversmith s shop which sustained them for a dozen years. The business eventually failed, but through no fault of their own, having been swindled for unsent goods. The couple were driven to move to Louth in search of work for Thomas. Their three sons slowly came of age, yet despite attempts to set them up in life, two turned out wholly disreputable and dissipated what little money Thomas earned. The third son was hardworking but poor and burdened with a large family. When Thomas became too old to work any longer, he and Janetta had nobody to support them. When they sought parish relief in Louth it emerged that they were considered residents of Brigg under the Poor Law and must return there so as not to fall into utter destitution. There they were granted relief and entered into the poorhouse with the rest of the poverty stricken, so much like those to whom she had distributed alms almost a lifetime ago. After a few years of decline Thomas died in But Janetta s manner and kindness soon won her back the friends she had made in Brigg years earlier and many new ones who came and listened to her stories. They prevailed upon her to write and publish her life story, and the book appeared in 1812 titled The Memoirs of Janetta; a tale, alas; too true! The question remains, however, how much of it was true? Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 41

44 Ben by Amanda Jacklin You did not live to race Nor did you want the show But ploughed a hardy trace And hoed a deep furrow Didn t worry over fashion Or the latest modern thing Lived to see a red rose grow Hear a baby robin sing The house was a mere place To eat and go to bed And clothes that did were few For having the best of everything Meant something quite different to you Nor did you care for wealth But looked to earth and sky Noted the pleasant view Knew creatures small and shy Your words were matter of fact Quietly spoken too This crazy modern world Wouldn t think to be like you You walked with horse and plough Hard work rewarded too The things folk care about today They really were not you Note: Based on my late Grandad, Ben, who died aged 95 in February The best plough boy in Lincolnshire aged Th e L i n c o l n s h i r e P oac h e r A u t u m n 2015

45 A Laceby personality of yesteryear by Brenda Anderson Miss Eliza Ann Bodkin taught at Laceby School Infants Department from 4th December 1882 to 31st March 1920, which is thirtyeight years and a long time at one school. She nearly didn t stay the first week because during it there was a school inspection, which was rigorous in those days and for a new 26-year-old teacher was a bit frightening. When Eliza heard what the Inspector had said, she went to Headmaster Mr George Smith with her resignation in her hand. He tore it up and sent her back to her classroom. What had the horrible Inspector said to frighten her? Amongst other things he d said Standard I belonging to the Infants room appear to know nothing and are doing rather poorly But wait, what was this, but under the present teacher they may make progress. Well, she read that as a sign of encouragement, gave out the slates and chalks, started the lesson and never looked back. Three months later another report said, The new mistress has been teaching the Infants for three months now and it is apparent that she has begun a good system and is getting them on well. Their answers were better than in any past year. What bliss! What a nice Inspector! Eliza lodged with Miss Crampton at the White Cottage Laceby Church Choir 1915 in the Square. She joined the tennis club down Spring Lane and in 1892 partnered by Mr Cook of the Post Office, won the mixed doubles of the Laceby Tennis Tournament. Sundays, she sang in the church choir but apparently didn t always see eye to eye with Mr P Herrick, who had the temerity to tell her how he wanted the Amens sung. Children (and the following four headmasters probably) were a bit frightened of her because she looked so stern. Photos show her as rather small in stature, rather large in circumference, her jowled face, long dark clothes and always a hat placed squarely on the top of her head. But she taught her children to read and how to love and care for books, which is a continuing tradition in Laceby School. Eliza retired in 1920 and died in If you look on the left-hand side as you go up the path in Laceby Cemetery, you will see her grave with a small headstone, which is appropriately an open book. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 43

46 The war to end all wars? by Richard Dann Alone I sit upon my hill Staring down at the water mill, The wheel now broken, standing still, No thump of hammer on anvil, The stream that was now a mere rill. Apprenticed there to blacksmith Bill From seven to five work was a thrill, I forged a happy life until The Great War taught us boys to kill. Those sights and sounds have left me ill, Destroyed inside, no soul, no will, No clothes, no food, of money nil, No jobs for those returned to fill. Here I sit in wintery chill And think about my school chum Phil Who never married housemaid Jill; I choke on this, life s bitter pill. 44 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

47 Louth ladies and doorsteps by Amanda Jacklin When I was a cheeky girl growing up, I would skip along the Louth streets and watch its people. I m thinking now of the springtime. A wrinkly old man wearing a cap would lean over his garden gate and look on as we small schoolchildren weaved by. His wife paused from scrubbing the steps clean, her leathery hands reaching deep into a bucket of suds which dripped from the worn out bristles of her brush. The rather buxom lady had an apron tied around her generous waist. She smiled and gave us mints from her floral pockets. On occasion you could see the odd blue roller peeking from under her headscarf. I never thought about her until now. She seemed insignificant and unimportant. But suddenly, I want to remember her, her work and the mints. She got back on her knees as we all disappeared down Church Street. I used to crane my neck till I lost sight of her, fascinated by her domesticity. She d probably be about 45 I expect. Other ladies would clean the windows with newspaper or beat dust from household rugs over the washing line. Some front doors would be open to let in the fresh air. Lovely stuff Lincolnshire air! By, the clothes smell good when they re dried outside in the Lincolnshire air. Who needs Fabreeze when Louth breeze will do? Or there would be ladies with wicker baskets going to the shops. Off to the butcher s they d go to queue at Lakings for Lincolnshire sausages or a joint. Then to the indoor market for veg. In the basket it all went and on the way home, stop off and pay the electric bill. The tall thin man with the grey hair would come to the house and knock on the door. My mother would answer it, smile and let him in. He d produce a ledger and she d produce an envelope. He would take out the contents, count it and enter the amount of rent paid. Off then to the next house to be met by a housewife. This one would say, Do you mind if I keep the fifty pences for the telly and give you a pound note instead? It was annoying when Coronation Street flickered to lines on the screen when the money ran out on Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 45

48 the rental TV and just when you got to an interesting bit! Some ladies lost the smile once the door closed behind the rent man. It was hard work paying that rent. A real stretch which often meant going without. Whoever bought a cake when I was a girl? It was a rare thing. Mothers would teach you how to bake an egg custard with plenty of nutmeg on the top. The whole street would be busy making apple pies in the autumn. I remember our neighbour had trees full of apples and she would leave bags of them on nearby doorsteps. I used to bake jam, lemon curd and Bakewell tarts. Not forgetting the Victoria sponge with butter cream in the middle. My nana ran me up a pinny on her sewing machine. It kept the flour from messing up my clothes. If we needed to make a phone call, my mum would write down the telephone number and the message, give me two pence and off I d go to the red phone box two streets away and dial. There was no pressing of buttons. You had to put your finger in the hole of the number you wanted and move it round till it stopped, letting it go again. Then the next number. The zero would take the longest time to get round the circuit. The phone rang on the other end, a voice would say Hello and pips could be heard. That s when you pushed the two pence into the slot and started talking. You were considered very well off if you had a phone in your house in the 1970s. Twin tubs were interesting. My mother told me a tale of how she had nearly drowned in the Dolly Tub as a small child. My nana noticed her feet sticking out and ran to save her. She coughed and spluttered having been retrieved from the vessel just in time. You needed to stay home with a twin tub, but not exactly glued to the thing. What freedom! It would pull out from under the kitchen unit, you would attach the pipe to the sink and fill the tub with water. Adding the powder, it would eventually dissolve and you then put in the clothes. Having switched it on, off it went. I vaguely recall a sieve-like device at the top which would catch any residue from the wash. You could leave it for a time and go off and hoover the house, for instance. But you came back to drain it out and add more water for rinsing. So much work. The items would all have to be taken out then with the copper stick to be put in the spinner side of the tub. This needed to be loaded evenly or the machine would dance across the kitchen floor! I actually remember the days before we 46 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

49 had a spinner but a large, green mangle. My mother taught me how to use it, but one day I put a shirt through the rollers without folding in the buttons. I was horrified when I saw them all broken. I apologised to my mum because it meant an evening sitting down with the button jar and mending. Many of our clothes were home made. Patterns were cut out using newspaper and we really did have knicker elastic, threaded through using a large needle. We bathed twice a week on Sundays and Wednesdays. All four children took it in turn to bathe but had to use the same water! Yuk! Whoever went in last had first go the next time. This would often cause fights among us. Occasionally my mum would tie my hair up in rags made from worn out sheets torn into strips. Nothing was wasted back then. It was so exciting to take the rags out in the morning and see a head full of curly ringlets. In my early childhood, we didn t have a central heating or double galzing just a small coal fire and hot water bottles at bed time. We snuggled in bed as the frost clung to the inside of the windows. Getting out again in the morning was really hard. It s no wonder I skipped down the road in the springtime, glad of the change in weather. People could get outdoors once more and smell the air, filled with the fragrance of oilseed rape. You could smell it on the sheets at night which had dried on the clothes line. The freshness really helped you to sleep. But the Lincolnshire climate is quite unique, even a warm day can bring a sudden wind which nips the bones. Direct from the North Sea it comes inland over a flat landscape. A windy day can really take your breath away, as there s nothing to break it. A windy day in Lincolnshire can leave you wishing you d never left home. Deciding to go on that walk was a silly thing to do! I remember hearing the winds rattling the old sash windows at my school, and wondering if I d be able to stand up straight when it was time to walk home. The ladies would have scurried inside by late afternoon, closing the door over that well scrubbed threshold I mentioned earlier. Off to prepare a meal for the hard working husband when he came in. Occasionally a lady would pop outside again, and give me and my brother a polo mint each, served on a plate. That s an enduring memory for me from my childhood. Such a silly little thing to recall but I m glad I do. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 47

50 Isaac Newton s radio by Val Odell Have you heard of Gravity? A friend asked me last week. Oh, yes, I said, I ve been there, We went and had a peek. That Isaac Newton s a clever chap, I even bought his book. It s all so very interesting, You ought to go and look. Not that Gravity, she said, The one you listen to. I said you mean the wireless? Her reply the Radio! It s full of songs and talks, And local people s tales All their hopes in local sports And many groans and wails. It sounds okay to me, I said Yes, I ll give it a go. I just cannot believe it s true, Isaac Newton had a radio. 48 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

51 Treasure hunt or Pointless mystery? by Mary Walsham I am afraid that this is going to be a sort of Pointless article no, I don t mean that literally, but rather in the style of the TV quiz programme. I d like to describe various things about this Mystery village. Those of you who solve the clues will not win 1,000 however, just my admiration! The answer will be revealed at the end. Or shall we call this a Treasure Hunt? Our Mystery Tour village lies about three-and-three-quarter miles from a village which had an Abbey. This village also had a convent, which was founded by Lucy Talbois. It was a Cistercian foundation and housed fifteen nuns at its dissolution. The Abbey fishpond still exists as a feature in the garden across the road. CLUE 1: There is a suggestion that the famous naked horse-rider Lady Godiva was born here. In the brief history in the church you can read that Thorold, who owned a lot of land round here, was Godiva s father. It would certainly be marvellous to be able to add her name to the list of World Famous Lincolnshire People. (We did see a lot of horses in the fields, but whether they are the descendants of Godiva s horse, I wouldn t like to say!) CLUE 2: Though there is no statue of Lady Godiva to look at, if you walk round the village lanes you will see the remains of various buildings. Some were once workplaces. The Old Bakery building still exists, as does Halyard s House and the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel. Most fascinating of all, however, is the Old Foundry which looks intact. There is also the remains of a Forge with a painting of a horse still existing above the name. You can just imagine when all these places were working how very self-supporting the village was. CLUE 3: The church in our Treasure Hunt or Pointless village is St Margaret s. It is named after St Margaret of Antioch who was finally executed by the orders of the Emperor Diocletian, having escaped previous attempts to execute her. She is said to have inspired Joan of Arc and was a great champion of the Crusaders. Many of the churches near our Mystery village have the name of Margaret and this is Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 49

52 probably because in the Middle Ages churches were dedicated to one of eleven saints. The landowners who built these churches gained certain benefits from these dedications (probably spiritual and financial). Costs varied between saints. Some costs were more favourable than others, so one landowner might dedicate several churches in the area to a particular saint (this law changed in the 1730s). Our Mystery village, St Margaret s, is very attractive with 13th century arcades, a Jacobean pulpit, Tudor windows and boards which commemorate the generosity of Thomas Bowles who donated 15 per year to help the poor of the village. Next door to the church is a most attractive Rectory, at the moment completely painted white, which gives it a very Georgian appeal. It was actually built in the early 18th century. CLUE 4: There is another St Margaret s at Waddingworth (which village can be found very close to our Mystery village), down a lane and in the grounds of a farm. Would you believe there is a memorial of a Dymoke, the Queen s Champion, set in the floor? The Dymokes have been champions to the kings and queens of England since the mid-14th century. From 1377 to 1821 the armour clad champion, wearing a plumed helmet, would ride into Westminster Hall and a herald cried out three times that anyone opposing the coronation must challenge the champion to mortal combat. As we know, the Dymokes are Lords of the Manor at Scrivelsby, near Boston, East Kirby and Mareham-le-Fen. Lieutenant- Colonel John Dymoke was the Queen s Champion at the Coronation in 1952, when he was only 26. Sir Robert Tyrwhitt was given the land nearby when Bardney Abbey was dissolved during the reign of Henry VIII. The church at Waddingworth was where the bell fell down on the last Sunday before the declaration of the First World War and also just before the start of the Second World War. Was this coincidence, premonition or what was it? CLUE 5: Just as, in 1935, a bus passed through daily and took people to Lincoln, there is still a bus service which transports the villagers. CLUE 6: On the outskirts of the village during the First World War, a false airfield was established to deflect attention from real airbases that existed in Lincolnshire. I have been told that, at one time, there were wooden fake aircraft standing on the so-called runway. CLUE 7: No wonder people gravitated to our mystery village because it has streams and an ideal agricultural soil a mixture of clay, sand and peat which can be put to various uses. CLUE 8: Our village begins with B. YES, that s right. It is Bucknall. Well done to all who got the answer. Even if you didn t go and explore this hidden gem. You ll probably find a lot more to interest you. (My very sincere thanks to my friend Sybil Wych for her great help in showing us around the village and also for revealing its previously unknown secrets to us.) 50 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

53 Dunston Scarecrow Weekend by Anita Yorke The annual Dunston Scarecrow Weekend took place on the 27th and 28th September The scarecrow weekends were started five years ago as a way of raising funds for the upkeep of St Peter s village church. This year, along with many other celebrations for the centenary of the commencement of the Great War, the theme for the scarecrows was The majority of the scarecrows fitted into this brief. Many of the villagers took part, with around thirty-six displays, some of them having more than one scarecrow. For 1, a map showing the various streets of the village and the locations of the displays could be bought at the church. Some of the villagers dressed up in costume of the period, there was bunting at various locations, and ample parking around the village. It was obvious that a lot of work and effort had gone into making the scarecrows and the settings for them. In one garden there was a frontline trench with a river of poppies flowing from the top. In another garden there was a tank made from cardboard to house the soldier scarecrow. In yet another garden there was a glider and two soldiers of the Airborne Division hiding in the shrubs. There were nurses and wounded soldiers, a drunken gardener, a lady doing the washing and various soldier scarecrows. On Chapel Lane the 2nd Metheringham Brownies had done themselves proud with at least ten scarecrows, both large and small. In the middle of the lawn there was an old fashioned skittles game for children Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 51

54 52 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015 to try their hand at. However, the best scarecrows there were of the human variety. At the village hall, with its entrance decked out in camouflage netting and sandbags, it was possible to rest with a cup of tea and a piece of cake. The other room had been transformed into a small First World War exhibition, with personal memorabilia as well as official documents, including details of graves and memorials to those from the village who had died during the war in France and Belgium. Local children had also made a contribution to the exhibition with posters and written work. The weather was warm, and many families took advantage of the day by setting up table-top sales on their driveways. The event was well supported on both days, with people attending from nearby villages, and it is hoped that Dunston has managed to generate a decent amount of cash to help with the upkeep costs of St Peter s church. Congratulations and well done to the people of Dunston for their amazing scarecrow collection.

55 The prolonged procession During the better weather of 1603 a slovenly man with over prominent eyes, a large tongue that tended to make him drool, and an unfortunate tendency towards laziness and drunkeness made his way through our county to London. He also had a forthright manner of speaking that was often removed from tact. Once he threatened to divest himself of his superfluous garments (his breeches) and reveal his rear when huge crowds dogged him in the capital. However, this man s self-indulgence was counteracted by a fierce academic mind, wit and love of sermons and cathedrals, including that of Lincoln. He was, of course, King James I of England/ VI of Scotland and his influence on the political map of Lincolnshire should never be underrated. This was the time when the gentry in our county could number their enemies in equal proportion to their friends, but they were pleasantly surprised to see the transition from the Elizabethan rule to that of the Stuarts go, whilst not perfectly, more smoothly than expected. Upon his approach to Stamford (Eapington) in 1603 the king had been greeted by an unusual sight that startled him. A squad of a hundred or so giants stalked towards the royal procession like Patagones, huge long fellowes of twelve and fourteene foote high, that are reported to live on the Mayne of Brazil, neere to the Streights of Megallant. Portent and foreboding, however, soon resolved themselves when it was found out that the party actually consisted of Fen men by Ingrid Newman on high stilts who had come to present a petition about various matters. They had previously rioted against the drainage works at Deeping and argued that there was noe lawe until the monarch s coronation at the end of this particular journey. James, of course, had reason to come through here on various occasions, not just on his way to his coronation. This would involve a great deal of palaver in organising him a place to stay. One such example is Pakenham s of Belton before the building of Belton House (as we know it today) later in the century. It bankrupted them and a kind of annuity was organised for this husband and wife for the rest of their lives. Much had to do with one of the celebrity lawyers of the Elizabethan and early Stuart times, Richard Brownlow though I do not think it was envisaged that Pakenham s wife would outlive him for so long when the deal was arranged in the early seventeenth century. Naturally, these processions would travel upwards as well as to London and many venues were set up between 1603 and 1625 in Lincolnshire. James visited Boston and went through the Corporation, granting charters along with fresh privileges and immunities. Unfortunately he alienated the Puritanical section of society and this area featured strongly in emigrant such as the Pilgrim Fathers. Despite this I understand that he found visiting here somewhat less hectic coming after the failure of the Gunpowder Plot and his presentation of a policy to unify Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 53

56 Scotland and England. Nevertheless he had proclaimed himself King of Great Britain and his word was sacrosanct along with his spending (not much has changed there then!). There was much disagreement about his self-proclaimed prerogatives and his extravagances, especially with Parliament. To get back to his journeys; he did enjoy the hospitality of Burghley House and did a spot of hunting on the heath, but of all his visits, the crème-de-la-crème for me would have been Lincoln Castle, as all roads seem to lead back here in my history. As aforementioned, James was most interested in ecclesiastical matters and this would be one of his more pleasant tasks. Another advantage was the Lincoln Races held in 1617 and the royal cavalcade enjoyed themselves immensely on The Heath. Scholars of the city entertained the royal party with a fencing match and a cockfight was also arranged. Perhaps one of the more poignant matters on the agenda was the healing of fifty persons of the evil. This would have been done by what is known as the king s touch a longstanding practice and perhaps a demonstration of the mystery of the monarchy. Later kings had their chaplains beside them reading King James s version of the Bible (after the Authorised version had been published in 1611). I can imagine a great shuffling line of the afflicted in a long, protracted procession waiting for the touch of an anointed king. It was believed that the disease of scrofula/ tuberculosis of the lymphatic glands could be cured by this action. Ironically, it was not only the belief of the general public but of physicians as well. Sufferers from all sorts of backgrounds would come and wait patiently, clutching a little coin (the touchpiece) that was handed to them close to the ceremony. King James may have found this a break from long-winded ecclesiastical meetings and long sermons. It was also a time when the reputation of the church had not been enhanced by accusations of fornication and perjury levelled at a number of ecclesiastical dignitaries. Two years before this particular visit, the lower storey of the museum in Broadgate began to be used by a Jersey School, whereupon the poor were employed spinning with the Jersey spinning wheel. Thankfully many objects relevant to King James and his relatives were purchased by a Lincoln silversmith one James Ward Usher. His motto was: never buy anything but the best, and buy it regardless of cost. Watches featured heavily in the collection, including one that belonged to the king and several items that were connected with his mother, Mary Queen of Scots. Stuart relics included fragments of the hangings and a quilt of Mary Stuart s bed, her diamond ring and an emerald studded pendant. He had also purchased some relevant miniatures. I end my article with a little poem, On Donne s poetry : With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots, Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots; Rhyme s sturdy cripple, fancy s maze and clue, Wit s forge and fire-blast, meaning s press and screw. This was penned by Samuel Taylor Coleridge in memory of John Donne, the king s favourite poet and given the reward of dean of St Paul s Cathedral. Attributions: Lincolnshire Worthies by J Medcalf The King s England by Arthur Mee The King s Touch by Jude Morgan. 54 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

57 The Cliff Villages blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, wrote This William Shakespeare, extolling the splendours of this precious country we live in. It is indeed beautiful, but not everybody knows of Lincolnshire s beautiful countryside and its ancient vistas. Who said that Lincolnshire was flat? Where in the world will you find the views of the Trent Valley? We who are lucky enough to live off the A15 see this view every day of our lives. The Cliff Villages run along the part of the famous Roman Road, Ermine Street, which ran from London to York passing over the other roman Road, the Fosseway in Lincoln. Climbing up Cross O Cliff Hill on our journey out of Lincoln, we are reminded by its name that this is where the Royal funeral cortege of Queen Eleanor, the first wife of Edward I, left the city. She had died at Harby in 1290 and her body was carried to Lincoln, when the embalming undertaken. Her viscera were buried in the Angel Choir of Lincoln Cathedral. The king vowed his much beloved Queen should be buried with Royal honours in Westminster Abbey. Ermine Street was the chosen route, and because he cherished her he vowed that everywhere that the procession halted for the night, a Memorial Cross was to be erected. There were twelve, the last now being in the courtyard of Charing Cross station in London, then the Savoy Palace. Her bronze tomb can still be seen in the Royal Chapel in Westminster Abbey, but her heart was buried separately at her favourite church in Elephant & Castle. by Arthur Hazeldine BRACEBRIDGE HEATH At the brow of the hill our first Cliff village is Bracebridge Heath, taking its name from the Ancient parish of Bracebridge at the bottom of the hill. The Heath became a civil parish in its own right in March 1898, and came under the control of Branston Rural District Council now part of North Kesteven District Council. At this time there was little in the way of a village life. The most important building was the lunatic asylum opened in At the time of its closure there were over 1,200 patients. There were several large farmhouses in the parish, one public house (The John Bull) and an alehouse (The Blacksmith s Arms), the site of the original blacksmith s in the area. Both are still there but the John Bull became the Bull in Bracebridge Heath Board School opened its doors on 28th June 1880 when 40 children of all ages were admitted. The Mission Church of St john the Evangelist, Grantham road was dedicated by the Bishop of Lincoln, Edward King, on 29th May 1908, after attendances at services in the school became too large to cope. The Heath became important during the First and Second World Wars, with its proximity to the surrounding flat land, for the take off of aeroplanes being built in Lincoln. It was a dark December night, 20th December 1942, when an Avro Lancaster took off from RAF Waddington for a raid on Duisburg, Germany. Moments after take off, it collided with another Lancaster in the darkness. Both bombers fell from the sky out of control and crashed Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 55

58 on Bracebridge Heath. Fourteen families lost their fathers, husbands and sons that Christmas, but there were no civilian casualties. The much-altered No 95 Grantham Road is of national interest. It was part of the Red Hall estate and it came onto the market in The plot in question was purchased on behalf of Mr Feargus O Connor, MP for Nottingham. This redhaired, six-foot Irishman became the leader of the Chartrists in England, which grew into a large radical movement in the county during the nineteenth century. The principal of the purchase was to provide smallholdings for working men, and thirteen other plots were developed in Bracebridge Heath along the main road, which at that time was called Waddington Road. Yet another house of interest in the village is Hill House. One late February night in 1821 in Minster Yard, the Sibthorpes on Canwick who had been entertained to supper were returning home when one of the wheels of their coach fell off. Was it an accident, or had it been tampered with? We shall never know. The coachman was thrown off, the horses were frightened and the coach turned over. Col. Coningsby Waldo Sibthorpe, MP for Lincoln was severely injured, never recovered and died the following year. His brother Charles de laet Waldo Sibthorpe inherited from his brother, which included land on the Heath. Charles also in 1826 took over his brother s parliamentary seat, going down in Lincoln s history as a notoriously eccentric MP. He divorced his wife, hated railways and foreigners. WADDINGTON The first date for horse racing in Lincoln was 1858 at the Carholme racecourse. Prior to this it was held on land known as Lincoln Heath, noted by historians as being desolate, dreary and featureless. Trees, much less woods, were few and far between. The only vegetation being heather and gorse and devoid of any farming development, was ideal for horse racing. The dates are lost in time, but it noted that Charles I was a regular visitor to the races here in Waddington. Two public houses in 56 Th e L i n c o l n s h i r e P oac h e r A u t u m n 2015

59 the village the Horse & Jockey and the Three Horseshoes are perhaps the only reminder of this key part of the village s history. HARMSTON The attractive honey coloured houses and cottages in this small village was memorably described by Arthur Mee in his Kings England series as serene among innumerable trees on its high place on the Cliff. In the Domesday Book of 1086, the village is documented and according to local historians originate as a toft village a settlement composed of small, closely packed farms with the surrounding land owned and farmed by those dwelling in the village buildings. You can still see the site of one of the tofts in the village at the west end of Chapel Lane. The pretty All Saints Church has Norman foundations with many memorials to the Thorold family, who were Lords of the manor for many periods of history, and the local pub takes his name from them. An interesting memorial is to one Margaret Thorold, widow of William Thorold who had nineteen children and died at the grand old age of 80 a great age in saw the erection of one of Lincolnshire s follies, Dunston Pillar, a land lighthouse by Sir Francis Dashwood. This desolate Heath became a hiding place for highwaymen and brigands travelling in this area of Lincolnshire must have seemed a daunting place. The Pillar was ninety-two-feet high surmounted by a large lantern. The Georgian dandy Sir Francis Dashwood, who became famous for his occasions with the Hell Fire Club, lived at Nocton Hall. The Hall was the scene of nocturnal revelry and masked balls for the scurrilous Georgian upper crust of the county. After twenty years, the lantern became redundant and in 1810 the then Duke of Buckingham who had become the local landowner erected on top of the Pillar a monstrous statue of unfortunate George III who was celebrating his Golden Jubilee. Made of Code stone (an artificial concretelike material) the statue was taken down in 1940 having stood complete for 130 years, because it was judged to be a Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 57

60 hazard to low-flying aircraft going to RAF Waddington. The statue fell to pieces while being taken down, and all the bits are in the conservation department of the County Council at Lincoln Castle waiting to be put together again. The mason who was employed to erect the statue, John Wilson, fell from the top of the pillar on completion of the work and died. His grave can be visited in Harmston churchyard, within sight of his final work. COLEBY Coleby is the next Cliff Village just off the A15 going south, a small community with just over 600 inhabitants. The Hall, close to the church of All Saints, was built for Sir William Lester in 1628 and the Gateway is an imitation of the Roman Newport Arch in Lincoln. Also to be found in the grounds is yet another Lincolnshire folly: a temple to Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, built in While researching in the Local Studies Library in Lincoln, a letter was found from Henry Winn, a notable poet from Fulletby, to a Mr Cornes. This was a thank you letter, for having sent Henry a copy of the sale catalogue for Coleby Hall in It says that he had walked the thirty miles from his home at Fulletby to Coleby for the sale and back again, but he had enjoyed his time there. He does not say whether he had purchased anything, but he loved the portraits and porcelain that had been sold. Henry Winn, born in Fulletby in 1816, left school at the age of ten when his father died, to help support his mother run their shoemaking business. He married in 1840, and their life together was a happy one, although they suffered much sorrow. In their twenty-nine year marriage she bore him twenty-one children, but only four grew to maturity. As well as being the shoemaker for the village, he went out paper hanging. At fourteen he became the Parish Clark, a post he held for eighty years. He and his wife Maria became teachers at the school. The back of their house was used as a grocery shop and hairdressing salon. On top of all this, he educated himself and found time to write journals and poetry. Anglo-Saxon foundations can be found in 58 Th e L i n c o l n s h i r e P oac h e r A u t u m n 2015

61 the church, and the Normans extended the building. During the Middle Ages a spire was added to the tower. It is one of the few churches in the country to have a landing light on its steeple, warning aircraft they are approaching RAF Waddington. There is a quirky lack of symmetry to the chancel; the arches on the north and south walls do not match and half of the arch is blocked off. Before the harmonium arrived for leading the hymn singing in the church, a village band played for the services, and the village blacksmith Miles Toynbee was the leader. BOOTHBY GRAFFOE One of the smaller Cliff Villages, but with some of the most desirable houses in the area. Built in roughly a square, it is a spring line village. Spring line settlements occur where a ridge of permeable rock lies over impermeable; there will be a line of springs along the boundary between the two layers. Spring line villages are significant for having long, narrow parish boundaries, stretching right from the top of the ridge and down to the river, but being narrow in the direction of the adjacent villages. At the bottom of the parish near the river stands a rather interesting building. This is all that remains of the ancient castle known as Somerton Castle. A licence was granted to the Bishop of Durham in 1281 to crenellate the towers and walls, and it is thought that the building was complete by There were three towers; the south front and part of the curtain wall remain. Several earthworks were recorded including a large enclosing ditch, a fish pond and a moat. Not a great deal is known about the life of the castle, but we do know of a famous prisoner who was held there during , King John of France. After many battles and skirmishes with the English he was taken prisoner at the Battle of Poitiers in 1356 and brought back to England. He was held hostage in many palaces and prisons throughout the country, one of them being at Somerton Castle. He finally died at the Savoy Palace in London in 1364, when his body was taken back to France and interred at St Denis Basilica in Paris. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 59

62 Autumn days by Robert Rudkin My Mother always said that autumn Was her favourite time of the year, And to catch a falling leaf before It hit the ground would bring good Luck: I don t know where she Got that idea! As a boy she would take me Walking down the leafy lanes It all seemed strange to me at the time. Even now I can t explain How catching a falling leaf Could possibly bring good luck! I d imagine that, as a child She must have read it somewhere in a book. It s a while now since my mother passed away And the seasons keep rolling by. I still go walking on a brisk autumn day, And if I catch a leaf as I walk along I look up to the sky And whisper That one s for you mum As I wipe a tear from my eye. I ll make sure I catch you One every year, I will even Take your great-grandchildren And show them what to do. And if you re really lucky, next autumn You could possibly get two! Maybe they will show their children How to catch a leaf or two, And by keeping up the tradition They ll always remember you. 60 Th e L i n c o l n s h i r e P oac h e r A u t u m n 2015

63 Heaven on Earth by Margaret Shephard I ve just been to visit heaven, a paradise on earth: I didn t have too far to go; it s in the county of my birth. I simply had to walk a mile, for Bourne Woods is where I ve been, And there I saw the greatest sight that I have ever seen. The sun was shining brightly, the sky a perfect blue, And so I slowly made my way to a beauty spot I knew. Diana s Glade lies in the wood, along a track well worn; I had it pointed out to me when first I moved to Bourne. Before me was a carpet of wood anemones, pink and white, And bluebells just appearing; they filled me with delight. It seemed as though a galaxy had come from the Milky Way; It seemed as though the heavens had strewn stars along my way. And there amongst the woodland trees I felt tears come to my eyes; Hundreds of golden celandines gave me a real surprise: They brought memories of childhood when I saw them everywhere, But I ve never seen so many since: I could only stand and stare. I could hear the sounds of drumming by woodpeckers all around, And a little wren was building a nest quite near the ground. Spring was all around me, on every twig and thorn, And I am so delighted that I came to live in Bourne. Th e q ua rt e r ly c o m pa n i o n t o Li n c o l n s h r e L i f e 61

64 A Yellowbelly verse from the past by Rev Jonathan E Moore Although born a Yellowbelly (my father was blacksmith of Hackthorn in the early post-war years), I have been in exile for the best part of half a century now. Surrounded by the beauties of the Peak District, I still find myself nostalgic for the flat landscape and vast skies of my native county. In the course of my reveries the other day, I found myself reciting a little piece of Lincolnshire doggerel about the Ermine Street villages, which I learned as a boy. I wonder if any of your readers still remember it, or know anything of its origins, or any additional verses? Waddingham white holes Snitterby snipe holes Atterby stands on clay With Norton hogs And Glentham dogs And Caenby ran away. Owmby pots And Normanby pans And Saxby new-milk cheeses Spridlington fair And Hackthorn hare, And Welton bumble beezies. 62 Th e Li n c o l n s h i r e Poac h e r AUTUMN 2015

65 Mature Driver Programme Cars have changed, roads have changed, the law has changed. Have your knowledge, skills or abilities changed? Have you attended a driver refresher course within the last ten years? Could you, or someone you know benefit from a Mature Driver Programme? Join us for a theory session and practical drive for only 30 Refreshments (tea/coffee) are included. For further information please contact: Katie on katie.fraser@lincolnshire.gov.uk

66 Subscribe today Never miss an issue of your favourite monthly county magazine LINCOLNSHIRE LIFE THE COUNTY S FAVOURITE MAGAZINE (published monthly) & A subscription is the gift that lasts all year. THE LINCOLNSHIRE (published quarterly) Contact us today! SINGLE SUBSCRIPTION RATES 1 year 2 years (please tick) Lincolnshire Life only Inland subscription Overseas subscription Lincolnshire Poacher only Inland subscription Overseas subscription EASY WAYS TO SUBSCRIBE: Online By phone ask for subscriptions department By post Please make cheques payable to County Life Limited. Return form to: County Life Ltd, County House, 9 Checkpoint Court, Sadler Road, Lincoln LN6 3PW, subscriptions@lincolnshirelife.co.uk JOINT SUBSCRIPTION RATES 1 year 2 years (please tick) Lincolnshire Life and Lincolnshire Poacher* Inland subscription Overseas subscription TO SUBSCRIBE I would like to subscribe to Lincolnshire Life for the next twelve months commencing (month)... AND The Lincolnshire Poacher commencing: Spring/Summer/Autumn/Winter (please indicate) THE PAYER Mr/Mrs/Miss...First name... Surname... Address......Postcode... Tel If renewing an existing subscription, please tick this box and it will be automatically extended from the current expiry date GIFT SUBSCRIPTION If this subscription is a gift, please complete the recipient s details below: Mr/Mrs/Miss...First name... Surname... Address......Postcode... Renewal New subscription Gift card for you to send We appreciate a great number of readers do not wish to cut their copy of Lincolnshire Life magazine, therefore why not take advantage of our online booking facility or simply telephone us on Fly the Lincolnshire Flag Purchase Lincolnshire flag merchandise online at: or phone

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