< Back Anonymous Abuse – 1830s style: or Little Changes in Politics. By John S Hartley There has rightly been much criticism of certain social networks which have permitted anonymous personal abuse of their members. Today it all happens quickly and openly. In the 1830s abuse may not have been public in the same way, and its delivery took rather longer, but the scurrilous anonymous attack occurred then also. This is a companion piece to my longer article, Eat, Drink and be Merry , to be found elsewhere on this website. Two surviving anonymous letters were sent to the successful candidate in the 1831 Election at Stamford illustrate such abuse: both were sent to Charles Tennyson, uncle of the poet. Between 1735 and 1868 he was the only Stamford MP against the “Burghley interest”, represented below by Lord Thomas Cecil, brother of the second Marquess. Tennyson was elected the second MP for Stamford in 1831. He was initially mildly radical and a member of Grey’s 1831 administration. The 1831 campaign had been, literally, a bruising campaign, at the very height of the clamour for reform of the electoral system throughout the country. Three days after this first letter was postmarked, the new Stamford Members of Parliament, Cecil and Tennyson, fought a duel on Wormwood Scrubs, the source of much later ridicule. Cecil’s remarks relating to Tennyson’s election campaign had given offence, probably as intended. Neither was injured, both were arrested but no prosecutions followed. Anonymous letter to Charles Tennyson Lincolnshire Archives 2 T d’E, H/26/8 Sir [Postmark – 15 June 1831] You are a low foul mouthed blackguard and like most of your party a bully and contemptible coward. It is only to be regretted that Lord Cecil should have placed himself on an equal footing with a fellow who wants the manliness and courage to avow expressions that were heard distinctly by 30 persons including myself, and who would condescend to the meanness of a lie to escape the punishment that awaited Him. Had I been Lord Cecil I would have horsewhipped you on the spot, instead of treating you as a Gentleman; a character your coward heart has proved you to have no pretension to. You may anonymously throw dirt at your noble antagonist through the daily press, but it will not answer; you are branded at my club in St. James Street as a dastardly 1 poltroon and may throw your slime how or where you please. A friend of Lord Cecil A member of White’s St James Street C Tennyson Esqr. Ordnance Office Pall Mall 1 This word might equally well be read bastardly , thanks to an extra riser on the “d”. It is hard to imagine this was a careless slip of the pen! The second letter , also to Tennyson, written after the Reform Act became law on 7 June 1832, laments the fact that Tennyson has decided not to contest the next election for Stamford, preferring to seek the newly created seat of Lambeth. Ironically , after the passing of the First Reform Act in 1832, Stamford became even more securely a pocket borough for the Marquess of Exeter and the Tory party; voters in St Martin’s now became electors for Stamford Borough. The new enfranchisements, apparently overwhelmingly in the Exeter interest since the family owned most of St Martin’s, seem to have been the chief cause for Tennyson’s withdrawal. His fellow reformers, rejoicing in the emancipation of so many large towns in England seem scarcely to have noticed that Stamford had become even more firmly a Tory stronghold. A brief biography of Tennyson may be found in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (available online with a library ticket number); a full report of the three elections at the start of the 1830s may be found in the 1820-32 volume of the History of Parliament. In Stamford in the first half of the nineteenth century political colours were reversed from what we would expect today – “Blues” were the radicals, reformers and Whig/Liberal supporters, while the “Reds” (or often actually nearer orange!) were the Tory and subsequently Conservative supporters of the Exeter interest. The punctuation, spelling and grammar of this letter, a far cry from the sophistication of the first, probably reflect accurately the social divisions of the voters in the town. It goes without saying that Burghley House patronage, in various forms, both overt and covert, played a highly significant part in their seemingly unshakeable hegemony – until the arrival of the secret ballot in 1872. Anonymous letter to Charles Tennyson LAO T d’E H/36/27 Stamford July 2nd 1832 Sir is this the Reform Bill Passing It is with gratitude for my fellow Cuntrymen I now take up my Pen to write to you asking you Weather you have forgot the Words you mad use of on the Hustings if you have I will remind you of them. Did you not say that if you ever forsook the Borough of Stamford might God forsake you and another thing I will remind you of When you was at the George and Angel window you said that if you ever forsook Stamford you wished your Right Harm might drop from your Body and now has forsook it O What a Oath to take My Dear friend Pray Write and give your at your end Resons for not Coming God will forsake you for Our town is all of the Devil will take you an upRoar the People of Stamford is as Blue as ever it was we have Hopes that this may be a false Report becaus you Cannot Leive becaus of St Martins voting there is about 40 or 50 voters and we know of 19 Blues and 8 as will not vote at all. Had you Have Come again Stamford would soon of been its Self and there is a great many fresh votes I know of 20 fresh ones. Who would of thought you would of forsook Stamford Whilst you Had Breath in your Boddy I once thougt we should Beet the marquis of Exeter but now we must give all up to the Red Party, but Stop let me think. know we will not give up to them till thay make us and thay shall have work to mak us for thay shall kill me before I will give up to them your tital is Rit Honl is this Rt Hon no if this Report be true it is not but we Have Hopes yet but if it be true I will give my Hearty good wishes I wish you may Never get another place in Parlement Can you forget the Thousands that Came to meet you when you first Came to Stamford I never shall forget though you have forgot us but I must Conclud By saying that I shall Ever remain a true BLUE We will give all up now but ah now we are forsaken the Tears that have been Shed in Stamford is unacountable To the Right Honerable Chas Tennyson You Have Fought the Battle Till you thought you have done Get Beet and then you gone John S Hartley A printed version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Town Bridge, Stamford By Nicholas J Sheehan The Town Bridge spans the River Welland, connecting the ancient burhs of Stamford and Stamford Baron. The stone bridge is the only vehicle crossing over the river and it carried the Great North Road (A1) through Stamford before a by-pass was built to the west in 1960. There may have been a bridge over the Welland since the early tenth century. Richard Butcher’s assertion that a stone bridge was erected by Alfred the Great, when he rebuilt the town after it was destroyed by the Danes, was disputed by Francis Peck and a more likely candidate is his son, Edward the Elder, when he established the settlement on the south side of the river in 918. The mention in Domesday Book of a bridge at Stamford confirms that one existed by 1086 but it is not until the twelfth century that there was definitely a stone bridge on the present site. Constructed of Barnack stone, the medieval bridge had five arches. Possibly it was rebuilt to a similar plan several times. When finally replaced by the present structure in the mid-nineteenth century, two of the central arches were higher and of a later date than the two on the northern half and their matching arch at the south end. However, the general appearance of the bridge may have remained substantially unchanged for over 600 years. The blocked surviving twelfth century arch has a span of about 21 ft. Drawing of the medieval Town Bridge based on a picture by J H Buckler, 1804 (Reproduced from Martin Smith’s Stamford Then and Now, 1992) In 1558, alderman John Houghton built a Town Hall and gaol over the bridge gate at the north end of the Town Bridge. Lord Burghley’s Hospital was founded on the south side by William Cecil in 1597, replacing the Medieval Hospital of St John the Baptist and St Thomas the Martyr which had been there since about 1174. Town Bridge and Bridge Gate with Town Hall above (from W Harrod’s The Antiquities of Stamford and St. Martin’s, 1785) Bridge Gate was demolished in 1777 when the Wansford Road Turnpike Trustees improved the road and provided a new town hall on St Mary's Hill. Even without this obstruction, the bridge’s single carriageway was described as the ‘narrowest and most dangerous nuisance between London and Edinburgh’. Able to accommodate only one carriage at a time, accidents, near misses and altercations for right of way were a frequent occurrence. Pedestrians had to retreat into triangular recesses in the parapets to avoid carts and horse-drawn vehicles. The bridge was owned by the Marquess of Exeter, who evidently found the responsibility of maintaining it onerous as evidenced by his offer in 1834 ‘to transfer to the Corporation, or to any other persons, the right of taking toll at Stamford Bridge in return for being relieved of the obligation to repair the bridge’. Lord Exeter was also responsible for repairing the potholed road for 100yd on either side of the bridge. Deemed to be ‘an extremely bad bargain’, the offer was rebuffed. In 1842, at the Marquess’s expense, the bridge was paved with large blocks of Aberdeen granite and a raised foot pavement of between two and four feet wide was added on each side, narrowing the carriageway further to only eight feet in width. While the upgrade may have enhanced the appearance of the bridge and the safety of pedestrians, it did nothing to improve the flow of vehicular traffic, allowing as it did for the passage of only a single carriage at a time. Condemned as ‘shamefully narrow and dangerous’ and a ‘great nuisance’, the fate of the bridge would be settled with the coming of the railway. The proposal by the Midland Railway Company to route the Syston to Peterborough Railway through Stamford was initially strongly opposed by the Marquess. The original intention was to build a station on the north side of the Welland and to lay the track on a level with the road at the end of the Town Bridge, where trains would stop and then proceed at a speed no greater than 4mph. The Parliamentary Railway Committees stipulated that the Midland Company should commit a sum of up to £5000 towards widening the bridge, which could be paid to Lord Exeter to carry out the work himself under the supervision of the Company’s engineer and surveyor. Eventually, the Marquess dropped his opposition to the railway, subject to the line being brought to a station on the south side of the river, where he could offer land for the purpose at upwards of £800 an acre. Faced with little choice, the Midland Company yielded to his demands, offering him £35,000 for the land in addition to £5000 to replace the Town Bridge. When the Syston and Peterborough Railway Bill was passed in the House of Commons in 1846, the contract for building the new bridge, to a design by local architects Edward and Henry Browning, was awarded to Robert Woolston, who was to use stone from Bramley Falls near Leeds and to complete the work by summer 1848. The new bridge, in a modern style, would consist of three arches (each of 30 feet span), with a 30-foot-wide carriageway and two footways, each of four feet in width; the parapets would be plain in appearance. To preserve access across the river throughout the duration of the work, a permanent causeway was constructed over the Meadows above the flood level and new bridges were installed at the sites of the George and Lammas bridges. A temporary footbridge was also erected from Mr Harper’s wharf to Water Street. The new roadway from St Martin’s to Sheepmarket was completed in July 1847 and demolition of the old bridge began that month. However, work was bedevilled by setbacks and progress was quickly halted by bad weather causing repeated flooding of a coffer dam, which necessitated driving fresh piles and creating a new watercourse before workmen were able to resume the task of removing the foundations of the old bridge. The delays and extra costs were financially crippling for Woolston and by March 1848 he had made a loss of £2,000 on the project. Despite negotiating a contract extension, he declared himself bankrupt the following month and Edward Browning then assumed direct control of the building operation. The bridge was eventually finished in March 1849 but its opening was postponed until 1 May pending completion of the Toll House at the north end. The final cost was about £8,000, which, after subtracting the Midland Railway Company’s contribution of £5,000, left the Marquess £3000 out of pocket. Toll House Front door of Toll house with date stone above (Photos N J Sheehan) With the opening of the new bridge, the Marquess provoked outrage by extending the scope of the pre-existing tolls to include the livestock and loaded vehicles of inhabitants and non-resident freemen of the town. The legality of this was questioned as no tolls had been taken in living memory from the townsfolk, who were believed to be exempt under the charters of Edward IV and James II. This cut no ice with the Marquess and, in the face of defiant resistance, the tolls were sometimes violently imposed. However, with increasing opposition to payment, the tolls became less attractive to potential bidders each time the lease was put up for auction. Unsuccessful in his attempts to pursue payment through the courts, the Marquess finally admitted defeat and abolished the tolls in 1868 in return for the Corporation undertaking responsibility for the maintenance and repair of the bridge. The toll house duly closed. The Victorian bridge comprises three low arches with cutwaters and solid parapets. It partially incorporates the blocked southernmost arch of the medieval bridge, which survives next to the substructure of the twelfth-century hospital of St John and St Thomas. Town Bridge (Photo John Daffurn) After assuming responsibility for its upkeep, the Corporation erected two ornamental gas lamps, one on each side of the centre of the bridge, which were later increased to four to provide sufficient light and achieve a satisfactory appearance. In 2017 when the lights were rusted and encrusted with grime, their columns were restored and repainted and new lanterns with LED lighting were installed. Town Bridge (Photo N J Sheehan) The Town Bridge has been the scene of serious flooding when the Welland has burst its banks. After a flood in 1570 damaged the north end of the bridge it was rebuilt at the expense of William Cecil. Other major floods occurred in 1641 and 1880; a plaque on the bridge records the flood line on 15 July 1880 when the river reached its highest level for two hundred years. The crossing over the Welland is still a pinch-point for vehicles approaching the town centre from the south. Measures to reduce traffic across the Town Bridge have included the imposition of a 7.5 tonne weight limit for HGVs. Nowadays, tail-backs still build up on either side of the bridge but three-phase traffic lights impose a degree of order on the flow of conveyances. Town Bridge is Grade II listed. Bibliography Mahany, Christine and Roffe, David. Stamford: The Development of an Anglo-Scandinavian Borough. Anglo-Norman Studies 5, 1983 Peck, Francis. The Antiquarian Annals of Stanford, 1727 Royal Commission on Historical Monuments England. The Town of Stamford. London: HMSO, 1977 Lincolnshire HER. Building record MLI94679 – Town Bridge, Stamford Lincoln, Rutland and Stamford Mercury 1834-1859, 1868, 1994, 2006 Historic England. The Bridge, Stamford - 1062178 A printed version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

investigating Stamford deaths < Back Death By Misadventure: Coroners' Inquests 1700-1850 - Part 1 John Hartley 1978 This is a slightly modified version of the original article, which appeared in Vol 2 of the Stamford Historian, published in 1978. In addition to the appendix below, published with the original article, further examples of the contents of Coroners’ Files will be added elsewhere on this website. DEATH BY MISADVENTURE: CORONERS’ INQUESTS 1700-1850 - PART 1 BACKGROUND Among sources often neglected by the local historian are the papers of Coroners’ Inquests. Studies of the work of the medieval coroner have been made [1] and collections of documents published [2] , but very little use has been made of inquest papers of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It may well be that they have been neglected because few have survived and their usefulness has not therefore been brought to general notice. It must be confessed at the outset that the papers often make depressing reading. Few can find much pleasure in detailed accounts of the deaths of suicides or of young children killed by negligence. However, the papers of an inquest provide information which cannot easily be found elsewhere. While other sources, particularly newspapers, may provide some information, it is rare that they contain the richness of detail to be found in evidence given by witnesses at inquests. Moreover,the evidence of witnesses often gives the modern historian an insight into the lives of the poor, rather different from that which is given by other sources. Something of this is apparent from the examples cited from the surviving inquests relating to the borough of Stamford. Stamford has a collection of over three hundred inquisitions dated between 1705 and 1850. More than half these official reports of the findings of the coroners’ juries have the evidence of witnesses preserved with them. These three hundred are the surviving ones; many more must have been lost, and it is not therefore possible to attempt more than a general survey of their findings. The Coroner The office of Coroner was well established by the early years of Edward I’s reign, and his duties were clearly defined soon after this. In Stamford, until 1835, the office of Coroner was held by each retiring mayor in turn [3] . Along with his other duties (including inquests for treasure trove and similar investigations) the Coroner was ordered to hold an inquest whenever an unexpected or unnatural death occurred within his jurisdiction. It was an offence to fail to inform him of a death which came into this category, as it was to bury the body before the inquest had been held. The Parish Constable was ordered to provide a jury of at least twelve men (no upper limit was set) who had to appear unless they had a ‘reasonable excuse to the contrary’. The jury had to take the inquest ‘upon view of the body’, and no inquest could be held unless the body had been seen by the jury in the presence of the Coroner. The notorious inquest at Oldham, Lancashire, in 1819 on John Lees who died from injuries received at Peterloo, was never completed for this reason. It was the duty of the jury to find out what had happened, and to present a verdict to the Coroner, rather than to hear a case presented by a prosecution. The many questions which the jury had to ask were established by law. Detailed descriptions of wounds had to be made and these feature in almost all records of inquests [4] . The Verdict The decision reached by the jury about the cause of death was normally very clearly indicated on the inquisition, the signed and sealed report of the jury. Murder, manslaughter, accident and natural causes (‘the visitation of God’) are usually stated quite plainly, but one finds less uniformity in cases of suicide. The jury may give an explanation why a person took his own life; for instance, some physical defect may have brought somebody to the brink of insanity; but often no explanation is given. The distinction between temporary and permanent insanity is not always made. Thus, when William Venters of Stamford threw himself from the town bridge in November 1827, the verdict returned was suicide through lunacy, in spite of the evidence that he had been drinking quietly, though in a depressed state, at the Queen’s Head Inn. About ten o’clock in the evening his wife, ‘a woman not bearing a very good character’, entered the Inn and started ‘soliciting his return home’; one is probably safe in assuming that it was her nagging that drove him to his death [5] . Other qualifications to the verdict of ‘suicide’ were sometimes returned, and open verdicts were given in a number of cases of drowning and infant mortality. The Records of Coroners’ Inquests The records of inquests of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries usually contain three sets of papers. The first is the ‘Inquisition Indented’, so-called from the opening words of the official report. This has the general details of the finding of the jury, and may give a brief account of the events leading up to death when these can be ascertained. Secondly, many collections have statements of evidence, sworn before the Coroner, on which the jury based its decision. Some witnesses’ evidence was slight and it may be reported verbatim in the Inquisition; but in other cases, particularly the later ones, the evidence is much more substantial. In drownings and similar tragedies short recent biographies of the deceased may be given so that the jury could establish whether the death was an accident or suicide. Doctors’ evidence appears in most instances, whether to establish the cause of a natural death, often a hit-or-miss affair, or to report on the care of a person between accident and death. Workmates say what they know of an accident; travellers report on the state of health of a fellow passenger or the competence of a coach driver. From such evidence, much may be discovered. What may have been irrelevant to the Jury then, and therefore not mentioned in the Inquisition, may provide a valuable insight for the historian now. In addition to the Inquisition and the evidence of the witnesses, other papers may well survive among Coroners’ records. Lists of the jury were drafted before they were summoned to appear; the costs of witnesses were recorded; orders were made to hold persons who might have to face criminal charges when manslaughter or murder had been found to be the cause of death. If an inquest were held on somebody who had died in gaol, very thorough investigations were made, and these papers may be preserved with the other records. Included in one set of papers are the notes of a Stamford Coroner about suicide and how it should be regarded, while in another set is the original suicide note from a woman to her brother [6] . Other Sources It is often possible to gather further information about a case by recourse to other sources. Quarter Sessions Rolls may contain relevant material; Assize Courts dealt with murder cases and their records may complete the story of an inquest; parish registers may mention the burial of someone who died accidentally, with a note to indicate this. In the later eighteenth century, and for the whole of the nineteenth century, the local newspaper is a source which should be consulted in order to fill out the picture, though often it may add little, especially when the evidence of the witnesses is detailed or when, as increasingly became the case, the newspaper reported the inquest itself rather than relating the story independently. If the victim had been of importance in the local community a short obituary may have appeared. THE STAMFORD INQUESTS Few places possess a substantial collection of original Coroners’ Inquisitions with their subsidiary papers, and those that have survived at Stamford are most interesting. Their value is enhanced by the fact that for most of the eighteenth century we have the Stamford Mercury , while during the early nineteenth century as many as four local newspapers were published, copies of which survive. Murder and Manslaughter Only a few inquisitions at Stamford found murder to have been the cause of death. This is partly because all official papers had to be forwarded to the Assizes and it was not customary for copies to be kept locally. Of the five murders whose records survive among the Stamford Inquisitions, only one deserves a mention. In 1782 a quarrel between two victuallers in the town led to the death of Robert Osborne, master of the Black Swan. William Fawkner was held in gaol to answer for the offence. It appears that Osborne had been obstinate and had refused to give up a quarrel, in spite of pleas from his friends. The Mercury (28 Feb. 1782) reported that “the heartfelt grief of Mr. Osborne’s antagonist cannot be expressed, tho’ the nearest of his friends do not blame the person he fought with for this misfortune”. Manslaughter also seems to have been relatively rare, though this may again be due to gaps in the records. We know most about a case involving Richard Facon who made a visit to a ‘female acquaintance’ at Tolethorpe, about two miles from Stamford, in 1774. She was not at home so he went to the house of a friend of his, the miller Mr. Goodwin, thinking she might be there. He peered through a window but could not see her. However one of Mr. Goodwin’s servants saw the face looking in and told his master. Goodwin, who had been robbed a few months earlier, went after Facon, shot first and then asked questions. Facon’s hand was ‘shattered in a most miserable manner’ ( Mercury , 22 Dec. 1774) and Goodwin did not realise that he had hit an ‘intimate acquaintance and very good friend’ until after he had further injured him with the butt of his gun. Facon was taken back to Stamford where he died some days later. Though the accident took place outside the Stamford Coroner’s jurisdiction, it was usual for the Coroner of the place where the death eventually occurred to hear the inquest. Suicide Suicides seem to have been fairly frequent. Stress and strain are not modern phenomena, as the evidence in many cases makes clear. Methods varied greatly and they are often described in detail. Two cases of suicide by shooting occur; some cut their throats, but no records survive to show cutting of wrists as the cause of death. Hanging and drowning were most common of all. Juries had to be satisfied that a drowned person had intended to take his own life, and so the detail of the witnesses’ evidence is often considerable. ‘Gibraltar Pitt’ in the town meadows seems to have been a most dangerous place, since swimmers drowned there, as well as its having been the site of at least one suicide. An inmate of Browne’s Hospital, a medieval almshouse, Francis Allen aged eighty-two, put his head in a butt of water while troubled by a painful hernia, and a verdict of ‘delerium and despondency’ leading to suicide was returned. Others chose poisons: mercury, opium and even a ‘sublimate’ for treating venereal disease, but laudanum seems to have been especially favoured. Natural Causes Many deaths were, of course, attributed to natural causes, and one can often see in the medical evidence at these inquests an attempt by the doctors to get to grips with pathology. Many deaths are recorded as ‘from apoplexy’ and left at that. Some cases were however clear for all to see. Jane, the wife of John Chamberlain White, met her end according to the jury through too much ‘drinking of ardent spirits’, and there is the evidence of various witnesses to show that she had been in the habit of ‘drinking large quantities of spirits of lavender, spirits of wine, and other stimulants’ ( Mercury , 11 Mar 1831). Equally simple for the doctors to decide was the case of William Fletcher who died in the winter of 1800 through the ‘natural causes’ of starvation, illness and infirmity. The medical profession, and the Coroners’ juries, faced their stiffest test when confronted with the body of a very young child. It was often impossible to get any other evidence than the mother’s and this might be suspect. Thus ‘open’ verdicts may be returned in cases of this kind. But a jury in 1840 found that a new born female child of Frances Palmer, a widow, had died from ‘natural causes accelerated by improper treatment’. Perhaps the most perplexing case of all, both to the jury then and the reader today, was that of a ‘male infant child’ found dead in 1827. On the Inquisition its age is given as five days, yet at the inquest the jury returned the verdict of ‘stillborn’. With the Inquisition is a thick sheaf of papers containing evidence and the supposed mother, Elizabeth Cunnlngton, was held in custody by the Magistrates for inquiries to be made. Accidents at Home Not surprisingly poisons were also a common source of accidents in the home. In several cases laudanum, used by parents as an opiate to keep their children quiet, was accidentally administered. Edward Alexander, aged fourteen weeks, was given laudanum instead of children’s cordial in 1834, while James Addleshaw, a victualler, was given the same by mistake instead of tincture of Rhubarb. Samuel Spencer’s mother also intended to give her son tincture of Rhubarb but instead gave the three week old baby oil of vitriol (sulphuric acid). She realised her mistake immediately, but the doctors could do nothing to help the child. Other accidents in the home were quite common, especially to the very young or old. There are a number of cases of clothes catching fire, while dangerous cellar steps at Truesdale’s Hospital led to one death. Accidents at Work Work was always accompanied by hazards. On the last day of December 1795 the Coroner’s jury ‘sat on the body’ of Thomas Wing, aged eleven, who had fallen into the Welland the previous day and drowned. He had been fetching water for a forge nearby owned by his master, Thomas Harper. The Mercury (1 Jan. 1796) carried a report of the accident and criticised his parents: ‘his tender (sic) parents were soon apprised of the circumstance (singular we hope it.) His body was left to cool in the river till the next morning.’ Even a simple task like washing out a cart could be dangerous. Edward Jackson was drowned in a patch of deep water in the Welland when his cart went out of control. Not surprisingly the accidents at work were very varied. Richard Sandall fell from a ladder when a rung broke; Richard Scholes fell from a haystack he was making onto the upturned prongs of a pitchfork. At W. B. Edwards’ brewery at least one of two accidents was caused by intoxication. While Francis Cole was emptying hops into the boiling copper he fell in and was scalded very severely, but he survived long enough to make the uncomfortable journey in a jolting cart the half mile from the brewery to his home where he died eight hours later. Six years after this, in 1832, John Andrews did not take proper precautions, according to his workmate Ambrose Ripping, before going into a vat to clear out the dregs of the stale ale and he was suffocated by the gases that remained. It took several attempts by the foreman, Joseph Wilson, before he could stay long enough to attach a rope to Andrews’ leg ( Mercury , 5 Jan 1832). Abraham Ryley was knocked from the staging of Mr. Brown’s bark mill in 1813. It seems likely that a gust of wind started the mill sails unexpectedly. The force of the sails was such that he was thrown over some buildings, across a road and into a paddock. He left a widow and seven children, five of them under eleven, for whom the Mayor and the owner of the Mercury started a subscription ( Mercury , Aug. 1813). A similar accident had happened to Alice Wilson in 1745. At Hudd’s Mill in 1814 Job Topley, ‘an industrious man in the employ of Mr. Smith, miller’ ( Mercury , 28 Jan.) was standing on the water wheel clearing ice when it suddenly started, crushing him and nearly killing Stephen White, his helper, who gave detailed evidence at the Inquest. Although the range and variety of accidents is very great, certain trades were rather more dangerous than others. In spite of the incompleteness of the inquest papers it is possible to suggest that the most dangerous occupations were those connected with building and transport. The Building Trades seem to have had many accidents, involving most of the separate occupations within the trade. Unsurprisingly, stone quarrying was very dangerous and there are several inquests on people like Christopher Wilson and William Peasgood, both killed in 1818 when there was a rock fall in a stone pit. Once the stone had been won, other risks arose. Ladders and scaffolding caused accidents - Robert Pilkington, a member of a well-known Stamford family of builders, fell from a ladder in 1825 while the Gas Works was being made. Though the collapse of St. Michael’s Church in 1832 was not attended by any fatalities, repairs on churches were always dangerous. In 1788 Robert Shaw was working on the steeple of St. Mary’s Church when the rope of a basket used for lifting stone caught on one of the crockets of the spire and this fell on him; a ‘Charitable Card Assembly’ (the eighteenth century equivalent of a whist drive) was held for the benefit of his widow and her six children, and over £26 was raised ( Mercury , 29 Aug., 5 Sept. 1788). Surprisingly, only one death of a slater is recorded, perhaps because the job was obviously dangerous and more precautions were taken. In 1811 Thomas Jorden was working on the house of the Rev. John Butt and though others were at work there, nobody saw him fall. It was reported that he was subject to fits and it is possible that this was the cause of his mishap. Another member of the same family, Joseph Jorden, had been killed in 1786 while making alterations to a house when an arch collapsed on him. Finally, there was the case of Thomas Pierce, an architect who was responsible for work at the Stamford Hotel Cockpit in 1825. He was found dying by his own workmen at the foot of some stairs. If building was a dangerous occupation, transport in one form or another seems to have accounted for the largest number of accidental deaths. Cases were recorded, much as one might find today, of children run over - Charles Hudson was playing with a ball when he was hit by a cart; in 1793 Thomas Jackson, aged four, was run over; most tragic of all was the death of Mary Ann North, also aged four, who was run over by the cart her father was driving. Innocent pedestrians might suffer as well as careless children. Thomas Thompson, aged about eighty, called to a carter to beware of some holes at the side of Red Lion Square, a section of the Great North road. Whether the carter heard or not, the wheels of the waggon fell into the holes and the cart shed its load of elm tree trunks over the pavement and over Thompson. A stationary wagon was not necessarily safe either - William Olphin, nine, was playing with his friends near a cart, when its load of pipeclay fell over him. Whether he or one of his friends caused the cart to tip up was not proved satisfactorily, though the owner of the cart assured the jury that it was the fault of the children rather than negligence on his part that caused the accident. According to the Mercury (10 Jan. 1823) Olphin was in the act of removing the support of the cart when the load fell on him. Richard Pitt’s death in 1776 reminds us of the dangers for the pedestrian in winter journeys. He died, accidentally, so we are told, while travelling from Oakham to Stamford in cold, snowy weather. During the period between 1770 and 1840 several travellers along the Great North Road gave evidence to inquests that they had found a cart or wagon stationary beside the road without any driver. Further along the road they had found the driver dead, more often than not run over by the wheels ofhis own wagon. In some cases medical reasons were adduced for the prior death of the driver, but more frequently the evidence was that the driver had fallen from his bench, perhaps while drunk. It would appear that many carters tended to take advantage of the facilities which main streets in Stamford offered to the thirsty. Occasionally a coach, chaise or cart overturned, or the horses bolted, with fatal results to drivers or riders. In 1839 John Clarke tried to climb onto the Wonder coach as it left up the long hill from Duddington, about five miles from Stamford, to get a free ride into town, but he fell and his legs became entangled with a wheel. He was taken to the Stamford Infirmary but his injuries were too severe for him to survive. Even the arched entry to a yard could be dangerous; in 1729 Thomas Blain tried to drive a coach into Henry Dove’s yard but the archway was too low and he was crushed to death. Those looking after horses were also at risk - kicks from horses while they were being groomed proved fatal in a number of cases. In another instance a lad aged thirteen, George Waterfield, had, without permission, taken a horse out of a stable to graze. He lay down and slept, having first fastened his arm round the halter of the horse in such a way as to prevent its escaping from him. Something made the horse bolt, and Waterfield was dragged through the town. ‘When the body was disengaged’, the Mercury reported (18 July 1811), ‘It was in a state too shocking to describe’; nevertheless the account did continue: - ‘the upper part of the head had been literally beaten off against a stone’. The river seems to have been a much safer place for those earning their living. Only one person was reported as having drowned in a fall from a boat, though another was drowned while helping to build the town bridge in 1848. While some inquest papers must have been lost it would seem significant that none refer to people being killed while following a waterborne trade, in spite of the fact that many boats came up the Welland and the Stamford Canal during the period under review. By contrast the building of the railway between Stamford and Collyweston in 1847 led to four deaths in seven months with two more the following year. One man died during blasting operations when rocks fell on his head; two more were killed by falls of soil while undermining for cuttings; the other three were run over by horse drawn railway waggons removing spoil from cuttings to places where embankments were being made. In Stamford in January 1847, only a fortnight after direct railway communication with London had been established, James Bowley died as a result of an accident in the engine shed. Bowley was employed lighting fires and preparing engines for the early morning trains, a job which entailed arrival at work at about four o’clock in the morning every day. Unfortunately, the train due in from London at 10.30 p.m. on 21st January had arrived about five hours late and though its engine, No. 122, had been raked out there was still steam left in the boiler. By all accounts given to the inquest, Bowley went between the buffers of this engine and another, No. 17, to uncouple them, and thus broke the rule of his Company (as the Superintendent of the coaching department of the Eastern Counties Railway was quick to point out) by not ducking under them. As he went between the engines, No. 122 moved slightly and he was trapped and crushed. However, he did not die until six days later and was able to give his own version of the accident. This has been preserved among the inquest papers. According to Bowley, Charles Mitchell, a sixteen-year-old who was employed to clean the engines, “was on the tender of No. 122 shifting the rods, and I told him to leave off doing so and come off the engine.” Bowley claimed that Mitchell was “a bad boy and always full of mischief. I have frequently told him to leave the Engines alone as he has no business to touch them, he was very impudent to me, and I should have reported him .... but was afraid he might lose his situation.” Mitchell was questioned very closely by the jury, and his evidence tells rather a different story. “He instructed me to get on the Engine 122 and to put her back to the other engine No. 17 . . . I put her in motion but a little bit. . . ." The Mercury report (29 Jan. 1847) which was published during the inquest, since an adjournment was made for a post mortem to be held, was unequivocal - it was Mitchell’s fault, they said. However, the jury found no evidence to suggest manslaughter and decided that since Bowley had broken Company Regulations, his death must be attributed to accident. This case has been dealt with at length to show something of the detail which inquest papers may contain. Other information which emerges from the evidence includes the report that Bowley and Mitchell were the only ones in the shed at the time of the accident, two other workmen having gone to the Exeter Arms, whether for breakfast or for a drink we do not know - and this at 4.30 a.m. In addition, Mitchell’s hours of work and wages are specified; 4 a.m. to 4 p.m. and a quarter of an hour each evening with some occasional extra duties for 10/6 (52½p) a week. Leisure One final group of inquests remains to be mentioned. Many leisure activities also had their dangers. One must interpret the term ‘leisure’ very loosely, since an evening’s drinking must fit this description. On 30 May 1791 Charles Myers spent the day drinking with his cousin, and in the evening he went alone to the Bull Inn. They refused to serve him there and gave him a chair in the kitchen so that he might sleep off the alcohol, but later he awoke and was taken upstairs to a first-floor room. He had a dream, so he told the doctor who attended him after his accident, that his cousin was leaving the Inn by the main gate, and he thought he would climb from the window to stop him, having no memory of being taken upstairs. In his consequent fall he fractured his thigh and died outside the Inn about an hour later. Many other fatalities, including falls from haylofts and down cellar steps of inns, occurred as a result of drunkenness. During winter, skating was always a popular activity and in 1814 William Freeman fell through the ice on a pond at Burghley House. According to the Mercury (4 Mar. 1814) the “weather and the ice afforded a warning of danger” but Freeman took no notice. Only one person saw him fall in, and though he was able to cling on for twenty minutes no help arrived for him in that time. It was said that the witness was unable to convince any of the people standing on Burghley Bridge that he was not hoaxing them. During the summer, when swimming in the Welland was popular, a number of drownings happened, either in the river itself or in the ponds which were then in the meadows. Among the inquests only one records a fatal accident as a result of the annual Bull Running in November, though another death as a result of being tossed by a bull occurred in January 1728. In 1801 Benjamin Overton, a horse keeper aged twenty-six, followed the bull on Bull Running day into the Welland. By all accounts he was very drunk at the time and most thought that the death was caused by the sudden shock of the cold water. Overton’s death is mentioned in the burial register of St. George’s parish with the simple comment ‘drowned on Bull Running day’. One other unclassifiable case deserves a mention. On 31 March 1802 William Reisby (or Reesby) aged fourteen had joined with many others in celebrating the Peace of Amiens. The news of the Treaty had reached Stamford the previous day and the Mercury published a special single page edition to announce that Napoleon’s France had agreed a peace with Britain. Though the Treaty lasted for no more than a year, it was thought at the time that it really would be the end of the war, and thus it was celebrated extravagantly throughout England. The Mercury (2 Apr. 1802) tells us that “the general mirth was unfortunately interrupted during the firing of the military in the Hay Market by the accidental discharge of a small piece of ordnance while loading, by which we are concerned to say a son of Mr. Reesby, baker in Scotgate had his head blown to pieces”. The Coroner’s inquest papers make it clear why the accident was so terrible; at the time the cannon went off the ramrod was still in the barrel, and it was this that hit William Reisby on the side of the head. If Reisby’s death is one of the most bizarre of all those that occurred and whose records have survived for us to read about in detail, it does nevertheless illustrate something of the richness of Coroners’ inquests as a source for the local historian. They can provide useful illustrations and examples for many different studies. APPENDIX This Inquisition with its sworn evidence is fairly typical of those that have survived at Stamford. It has been chosen because it shows a parish officer, the Beadle of St. Martin’s, showing little humanity as he ensures that his parish will not become liable for any costs associated with the traveller by forcibly removing him to the next door parish; in addition it is interesting to find a reference to a sedan chair carrier at work at this late date. Until 1835 St Martin’s parish, south of the river Welland came under the civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction of Peterborough while north of the river the five parishes owed their allegiance to Lincoln; the town’s magistrates were ultimately responsible for all aspects of local government north of the river. In addition, until 1832, Stamford voted for two members of Parliament while St Martin’s householders voted in Northamptonshire. FORMAL VERDICT OF THE INQUEST The Town or Borough of An Inquisition indented and taken for STAMFORD our Lord the King within the Borough aforesaid, on Saturday the TwentyIn the County of Lincoln. fifth Day of October in the ninth year of the Reign of our Sovereign Lord George the Fourth by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, and in the Year of our Lord One Thousand Eight Hundred and twenty eight before Matthew Rooe Esquire, Coroner of our said Lord the King in and for the said Borough, on View of the Body of a person unknown aged about Twenty Years, then and there lying dead, by the Oath of Thomas Peatling, John Abbott, William Chambers, William Cox, Daniel Whitehead, Francis Coy, Joseph Tomlinson, Samuel Lightfoot, Thomas Bainton, William Barton Parker, William Dawson the younger, William Lowson and Elijah Dixon, good and lawful Men of the said Borough, duly chosen, and who, being then and there duly sworn and charged to inquire, for our said Lord the King, when, how, and by what Means the said person unknown came to his Death, Do upon their Oath say, That on Tuesday last between five and six o’clock the deceased who said he was an Irishman was seen in this Borough in an ill state of Health being an entire stranger, that the next morning Wednesday he was found very ill and nearly exhausted, that in consequence he was taken to the Workhouse in the Parish of St. George in the said Borough where he languished for a short space of time and then and there died by the visitation of God in a natural way and so the jurors aforesaid upon their Oath aforesaid do say that the said deceased came to his death in manner aforesaid by the visitation of God in a natural way and not otherwise. In witness whereof as well the said Coroner as the Jurors aforesaid have to this Inquisition set their hands and seals the day and year first above written. (Signature of N. Rooe, Coroner with seal of the Borough of Stamford, and signatures and blank seals of thirteen jurors.) SWORN EVIDENCE TO THE INQUEST The Town or Borough of Informations of Witnesses severally STAMFORD taken upon Oath, within the BoroughIn the County of Lincoln aforesaid, on Behalf of our Lord the King touching the Death of a person unknown aged about Twenty Years, onSaturday the Twenty fifth Day of October in the ninth Year of the Reign of our Sovereign Lord George the Fourth by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, and in the Year of our Lord One Thousand Eight Hundred and twenty eight before Matthew Rooe Esquire, Coroner of our said Lord the King in and for the said Borough, on an Inquisition then and there taken on View of the Body of the said person unknown then and there lying dead. John Arden of the said Borough, mason, sworn saith that on Tuesday last between five and six o’clock In the evening he was going into Saint Martin’s over Stamford Bridge and near to the end of the Bridge on the Stamford side he saw the deceased who appeared to be very ill and that William Scuithorpe the Beadle of Saint Martin’s was with him and shoving or forcing, him along over the Bridge into Stamford, that deceased declared himself to be very ill several times and the said Sculthorpe said he was drunk, that the said Sculthorpe shoved the deceased down and he fell upon his face on the Ground when the said Sculthorpe said I have done with you now (meaning the deceased) I have got you clean out of the Parish, that this Deponent being employed in carrying a sedan chair passed on and does not know what further took place at that time. That the next morning this Deponent being near to Mr. Lincoln’s back gate about half past six o’clock saw the deceased walking very slowly with his dress in a disordered state and he then seemed to be very ill. John Arden X his mark William Hudson, Tanner, sworn, saith that about six o’clock on Wednesday morning last on going into the Bark Mill upon Mr. Stevenson’s Premises he found the deceased lying on his back with his head hanging over a Basket and his Hat off, that he seemed to be in an intoxicated state and to have been there all night, that this Deponent removed him from the premises and he walked a little way and wanted to come back again but this Deponent told him he could not be allowed to do so, that he could scarcely speak but mentioned his name which this Deponent has forgotten and he said he was an Irishman - that about eight o’clock this Deponent again saw the Deceased under the Gas Wall and he seemed then to be in a state of exhaustion or intoxication which this Deponent did not know. William Hudson X his mark Leonard Stevenson, Surgeon, sworn Saith that on Wednesday morning last about seven o’clock he saw the deceased walking in a staggering way towards the Gas Wall, that when near it he turned about and stood fumbling with his hands with his Hat over his face and this Deponent thought he was tipsy but did not take further notice of him - That about an hour afterwards he was sent for to attend a person in Saint George’s Workhouse whom he found to be the deceased who had been taken there and put to bed - that on examination this Deponent found the deceased to be nearly exhausted and in a dying state - that he directed some food and cordials to be immediately given to him neither of which he could take and upon the whole this Deponent thinks that the deceased came to his death from ( ‘want and’ crossed out ) exhaustion and from no other cause. Leo. Stevenson Surgeon Taken and sworn before me M. Rooe Coroner. [1] R. F. Hunnisett, The Medieval Coroner , Cambridge 1961, and references cited there. See also Coroners’ Records in England and Wales , J Gibson & C Rogers 3rd Edn., Bury, Lancs; Family History Partnership, 2009 which gives a guide about the availability of records but little about their contents or uses. [2] Notably Thoroton Society, Record Series, XXV for 1966, Calendar of Nottinghamshire Coroners’ Inquests, 1485-1558 , ed. R. F. Hunnisett; also The Earliest Lincoinshire Assize Rolls, 1202 -1209 , ed. D. M. Stenton, Linc. Rec. Soc. XXII. [3] G. Burton, Chronology of Stamford , Stamford 1846, p. 116. [4] Any edition of the eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century handbook for magistrates, The Justice of the Peace and Parish Officer by Richard Burn, will provide information about the method of holding an inquest. It gives the wording of all the forms and the various technical and legal terms which were used in inquests. [5] The Stamford Coroners’ papers are at present (2012) stored in the Town Hall. It is possible to find an individual Inquisition quite quickly from the contemporary endorsement though currently these records are not available for consultation [See note to List of Inquests]. Newspaper references have generally been given when quoted. [6] Coroner’s comments on suicide in papers for inquest on Mary Ann Black, 17 July 1810; suicide letter in papers for inquest on Jane Congreve, 22 June 1842. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Stamford and Magna Carta Dr Henry Summerson 2015 The text of Dr Henry Summerson's April 2015 lecture on his book, Stamford and Magna Carta , is reproduced here for those members who were unable to attend. Stamford at the time of Magna Carta: the life of the town It is a great pleasure to be here in Stamford this evening, in this most elegant and well-preserved of English country towns. Such is the power of the media that the world at large probably associates Stamford most readily with TV serials like Middlemarch , but of course your town has a real past of its own, one embodied in works of scholarship like the little book you have generously sponsored and which is being formally launched this evening Thank you for your support, and for coming here this evening, and my thanks also to Alan Rogers for help in preparing the book, and not least for the illustrations which will accompany my talk. It is by way of the first of them that I shall take you back to the thirteenth century, but going gently, by way of this engraving of a `prospect’ of the town made in the early eighteenth century, chosen because much in it would have looked familiar to much earlier generations of Stamfordians – the skyline dominated by church towers, the surrounding walls, and not least the ploughed fields extending right up to those walls. If we imagine a man coming home after a day’s work in the fields eight centuries ago, in Easter week 1215, much would have been as it is in the engraving, though the walls would have been wooden and the towers less prominent. But he might well have been puzzled to find the town unusually busy, with crowds of people in the streets, many of them armed and mounted. The annual fair ended last week, has a tournament been arranged without anyone telling him? Some of those coats of arms he sees on shields and banners look familiar – they are those of local lords who often ride past him in the streets, or who own houses in the town – but there are others he doesn’t recall seeing here before, and all round him are men talking in broad north-country accents, and he doesn’t recognise them either. Altogether it’s a relief when they gather themselves together and move off, having drunk the taverns dry and left piles of horse manure in the streets. With all the advantages of hindsight we know that our hypothetical townsman has been the unknowing witness to what (in capital letters) we may call a Major Historical Event, the beginning of the baronial campaign which led successively to a formal declaration of war against King John, to the occupation of London, and to the peace treaty we know as Magna Carta – promises of good government extracted from the king by his adversaries in return for an end to hostilities and a return to their allegiance. I will come back to those promises at the end, but first we need to look at Stamford itself. An old community, of course, with a history traceable back at least to the late ninth century. Its position on the crossing of the River Welland from which the town is named, giving access both to the Wash and to the east midlands, and its closeness to the north-south-running Roman road known as Ermine Street, gave it commercial advantages and made it a natural centre for the exercise of authority. The dominant power in the town in its early days was the king. There was a mint at Stamford by the mid-tenth century, and the striking of coins was a tightly controlled royal monopoly, while William I built a castle at the west end of the town within a few years of the battle of Hastings. But Henry II granted his lordship at Stamford to his constable, Richard du Hommet, who was also a major landowner in Normandy, while by 1215 the lord of the town was another outsider, William de Warenne, and though neither of these magnates was indifferent to their rights here (the town’s court continued to be that of the lord, for instance), the fact that their principal estates lay elsewhere probably made it easier for the townsmen to pursue their own interests and to develop the lifestyle, and acquire the privileges, appropriate to a prosperous urban community. By the early thirteenth century Stamford was styled a borough, where property was held by the tenure, known as burgage, which was characteristic of towns, it could exclude the sheriff of Lincolnshire, and it was represented by its own jury when royal justices visited the county – this is first recorded in 1202, when the Stamford jury so bungled its responsibilities that it seems legitimate to deduce that this hadn’t happened before. The prosperity of Stamford came from both trade and industry, with both in turn deriving from the resources of the town itself and of the region in which it stood. The fields I referred to at the start – perhaps amounting to 1000 acres at the time of Domesday Book – did not make the inhabitants of Stamford farmers, even though many of them, perhaps even most, will have had holdings in them. Many 12th and 13th century townsmen (and –women) had occupational names, and ones like ploughman or shepherd are conspicuous by their absence. Among all the property deeds and judicial records we don’t find the people who reared animals, but we do find those who slaughtered them – there was a butcher’s street in the town – and who exploited their hides and skins - tanners, fullers (who also gave their name to a street in the town), weavers, dyers and tailors, along with specialist names like glover, coifer (a maker of hoods) and wimpler (who made ladies’ headgear). Smith, inevitably, is common, as are other kinds of metal-worker. For housing people could turn to masons and stone-cutters. Fishers must have exploited the Welland, and for those who did not have their own ovens their catch could have been prepared for them by the cooks who sold takeaway meals; those who were able to prepare their meals at home could go to spicers to enliven what they cooked there, while vintners supplied a superior tipple to those who could afford it – in 1202 there were said to be five vintners in the town, one of many indicators of Stamford’s prosperity by this date. It was a prosperity which helped to draw people in. Low levels of hygiene, and correspondingly high death-rates, meant that all medieval towns found it hard to maintain their populations without constant immigration. Goods and people probably came to Stamford from much the same places. Many townspeople, on the evidence of their names, originated in nearby places, in towns and villages in Lincolnshire, Rutland and Northamptonshire. A number came from Barnack, for instance, little more than three miles away, which manifestly also provided a good deal of the stone with which Stamford was built. But there were also men and women named from parts of England further away, from East Anglia, and from Coventry, Nottingham and places in Derbyshire,. In addition there is record of men and women named Fleming and Franceys; they could have been Flemings or French themselves, or they may have been so called because they had spent time across the Channel, which would explain the otherwise unexpected Reginald le Bretun, the son of Simon of Ketton – named from a village only three miles from Stamford, his father could hardly have been more local, so perhaps Reginald was so called because he had traded to Nantes or Rennes. The town’s trading centre was naturally its market-place, immediately below the castle. Stamford had the right to a weekly market, at first held every Sunday but later moved to Monday, and also a yearly fair, which began in the middle of Lent and eventually extended until Easter. We may assume that the market was primarily attended by local people, coming in from the towns and villages within a few hours’ ride or walk from Stamford to buy and sell there, but the fair was an altogether grander affair, one of the most important in England. The earliest in the year among the major English fairs, it drew in merchants from London – early in 1201 the mayor of London explained how he had been unable to arrest a city goldsmith because he had just left for Stamford fair – and also from abroad. Among the many misdeeds laid to the charge of Gerald de Camville in 1194, after his dismissal as sheriff of Lincolnshire, was that he had been harbouring brigands who stole the goods of merchants going to Stamford fair and received them, and their plunder, afterwards. Since the sheriff’s base was Lincoln Castle, well to the north of Stamford, it looks as if these unfortunates had been on their way inland from the coast when they were attacked. Later references leave no doubt about such commercial links. Early in 1227, for instance, at a time of Anglo-French tension, order was given for the seizure of all the goods of French merchants who had not received formal permission to attend the fair. Some traders, it would seem, observed the bureaucratic niceties, but plenty of others just turned up on spec’, as it were. What did foreign merchants go to Stamford fair for? Partly, no doubt, simply to buy and sell, to exchange their own wares for those available at an accessible and well-attended venue. But medieval Stamford also had distinctive products of its own. The earliest, chronologically, was pottery. Well before the Norman Conquest potters in the town had combined the exploitation of local clays with techniques which were borrowed from Flanders or Northern France (possibly a pointer to commercial links even at this early date) to make Stamford a centre for the production of fine ceramics, notable particularly for their glaze (visible on this locally-found jug, though its colour is a rather untypical green, yellow having been more often favoured). Although allowances have to be made for the accidents of survival, and indeed discovery, the fact that fragments of Stamford ware have been found not only all over Lincolnshire and the east midlands but also in many places in East Anglia, at points west like Hereford, Worcester and Chester, at York, at Aberdeen and Perth, and even in Scandinavia, suggests strongly that its pottery made a significant contribution to the town’s prosperity. By the late twelfth century, however, the fires were going out in the kilns, partly because other places had developed pottery industries of their own, but still more because Stamford had become a centre for another and even more important industry, that of making cloth. The wool of Lincolnshire was of excellent quality, and in itself constituted a major attraction to foreign merchants. The fullers, weavers and dyers of Stamford also learnt to make the most of it, to such effect that `Stamford’ became a brand-name. In the years around 1200 cloths called `Stamfords’ were being bought and sold in the Low Countries, France, Germany and Italy, some of them the genuine article and others imitations, a tribute of sorts to the quality of the originals – Arras in northern France became a notable centre for the production of imitation `Stamfords’. The name probably covered several different sorts of cloth, but the best-known product of the townspeople’s looms, and one which came to be particularly associated with Stamford, was one called haberget – a mid-13th-century list of English towns, associating each one with a particular activity or product, gives `Haberget of Stamford’, before going on to things like Eels of Cambridge, Herring of Yarmouth and Soap of Coventry. Mentioned by name in Magna Carta, as one of three sorts of cloth whose size was regulated by clause 35, haberget ( hauberge in French) almost certainly took its name from its pattern, which was made to resemble the interlocking links of a chain-mail shirt, or `hauberk’. It was a kind of diamond twill, in fact, and clearly a high-quality product, in demand at the topmost social levels – in 1211 haberget was bought for King John himself, while four years earlier he had ordered twelve ells (between 15 and 16 yards) of it for his wife, Queen Isabella, commanding that it should have been dyed in grain, i.e. scarlet. Medieval people liked bright colours, something we are apt to forget when we enter churches and castles and see only their bare stone walls. Grain-dyed cloth may have been a Stamford speciality, judging by an anecdote found in a French chronicler, telling how an army campaigning in northern France in 1214 came to a little village now called Steenvorde but then `Estanfort’. It was in enemy territory, and the French set fire to it, prompting one of their leaders to quip, as the red flames lit up the sky, that they wouldn’t ever have seen a Stamford better dyed in grain than that – at which, said the chronicler, there was much laughter, though he thought the joke tasteless himself. Green was another possibility – in May 1226 Henry III ordered no less than 150 ells, over 550 yards, of `the best green’ of Stamford, perhaps intending to put his court into it at Whitsun. Such an order brings out the scale on which cloth was made in Stamford, as well as the high reputation of the finished product; the three Italian merchants licensed in 1208 to buy haberget worth nearly £550 and take it abroad must have placed a similar bulk order. John Speed’s map of Stamford was made long after the period I am talking about, but the lay-out of the town in 1600 probably did not differ much from that of 1200, and there was certainly one important similarity. Written records make it clear that the medieval town was full of open spaces, which were in fact an essential component of life in it, they were needed for stabling, or vegetable gardens, or latrines, or workshops. This is an age before factories - if you owned a loom, or a vat for dying, you probably kept it in a shed, or a yard in the case of a vat, at the back of the house. Property deeds are full of information about houses. One of the privileges associated with burgage tenure was the freedom to dispose of landed property, during an owner’s lifetime or in a testament made before death. It was a privilege extended to women as well as men, helping to explain why wives and widows are so often named in title-deeds; marriage to an heiress, or to a wealthy widow, was a way for men to rise in the world, but the women who made such marriages did not thereafter lose their rights, or their interest, in the lands and houses transmitted with them, and it is striking how often a man buying or selling a house or plot of land found it necessary to record that he was acting with the consent of his wife. Many of the dwellings disposed of will have been made of wood, but helped by the easy availability of good building stone, in the quarries at Barnack and also in and around Stamford itself, by the beginning of the thirteenth century stone houses were starting to be built there. Remains of some of them can still be seen today. Probably the most striking is 13 St Mary’s Hill, which appears to have been laid out on three floors, all stone-built, with an undercroft (seen here) supporting a shop at street level and living quarters above. We can imagine the customer entering from the street to tell the shop-owner what he needs, and then either being taken down into the undercroft to inspect the stock and make his choice from it, or perhaps being asked to take a seat while a servant or apprentice is sent down to bring goods up for him to look at. In the evening, the lower floors are locked up and the family – a word which in medieval parlance means the whole establishment, servants as well as parents and children – retires upstairs to sleep. A passing reference in an early-13th century deed to Ivo the watchman suggests that there was some sort of external security to supplement bolts and bars. The owner of a house like 13 St Mary’s Hill was certainly a wealthy man. Property by itself was no guarantee of prosperity, however, and there were numerous occasions on which men and women sold it in order to pay their debts, to finance an important undertaking (notably a pilgrimage or crusade), or simply out of want. One Richard Hallof, who in the early 13th century sold all his property, shops and houses to Walkelin the butcher for eight marks (no trivial sum), because he was `impelled by great poverty’, is typical of such reluctant vendors, though he may have fallen further than most. There were poor people in medieval Stamford, and some of them were reduced to dishonest shifts to make a living, judging by their appearances in judicial records. It is there that in 1203, for instance, we meet people with such names as Robert the blind, Hudde the forger and Emma Brunfustian (her name perhaps a reference to the cheap clothes which were doubtless all she could afford to wear), all accused of stealing goods among which clothes, some of them made of the expensive haberget, featured prominently. The morality which shaped the lives of people like Hudde the forger was probably little more than fear of punishment, whether administered in a court run from the castle or before royal justices. For the more-or-less law-abiding, as for most medieval people, it will have taken its conventional forms under the influence of the Christian religion, as proclaimed in the town’s many churches. Ecclesiastically, Stamford was well provided-for, with its fourteen parish churches and six ancillary chapels, not to mention the religious houses in and near the town, and the many such monasteries which owned property within it. Some of these last were far away, Durham Cathedral priory, for instance, whose daughter-house of St Leonard’s, just outside the eastern end of the town, has left us, in what remains of its church, a noble example of late Romanesque architecture which also demonstrates the high quality of the mason’s craft available to the people of Stamford in the late 12th century. But others were much closer, above all the great Benedictine abbey of Peterborough, which was not only a major urban landowner, lord of Stamford Baron south of the Welland, which constituted one of the six wards into which the town was divided, and proprietor of fourteen messuages on the other side of the river, and also the controller of another religious house, the nunnery of St Michael’s, also south of the river. The fortunes of the nunnery are worth a moment’s attention, since this is one of the few points at which it is possible to get even a glimpse, however imperfectly, of the women of the medieval town. To become a nun was rather like getting married, except that the bridegroom was Christ, and a dowry still had to be found, to help support the community in which a girl was placed. So it was that in around 1200 one Waleran son of Ralph of Helpston (a village a few miles east of Stamford), supported by his wife Helen, gave land to the nuns in the town fields `on the day on which he assigned his daughter Maxiena to God and to religion’. But the fact that she had taken vows devoting herself to a life of poverty, chastity and obedience did not necessarily lead to a nun’s severing all relations with her former life, or with her family. St Michael’s was not a rich house, and life there was probably rather spartan, which helps explain a number of grants which were specifically aimed at making it more comfortable – they might be, in modern parlance, hypothecated to the refectory or to the infirmary, for the nuns’ veils or even to buy them bedclothes. One of these benefactors was another woman, Lucy du Hommet, the wife of the lord of the town, who when a man called Salvagius gave his daughter to the nunnery, herself gave rents totalling 6 s. 8 d. to the sisters, partly to finance prayers for her own and her family’s souls, and partly to fund a pittance, an extra allowance of food, on the anniversary of her death, whenever that should occur. Lucy was an important lady – she may even have been the owner of the fine gold ring, datable to the years around 1200, which was discovered on the site of the castle – but she was not too grand to take a kindly interest in the nuns on the other side of the river. Stamford’s male ecclesiastics were not necessarily much better off than the nuns of St Michael’s. Most of the parish churches were controlled by – the technical term is appropriated to – religious houses, which took most of the revenues and used the rest to pay a vicar to conduct services (no fewer than five of them were appropriated to St Michael’s). In the 13th century bishops tried to enforce a minimum wage for vicars of around £3. 6 s. 8 d. per annum (quite a decent rate when the average ploughman probably earned about 35 s. per annum), but often could not achieve this. The yearly revenues of All Saints in the Market, for instance, amounted to roughly £3. 10 s. , but £1. 6 s. 8 d. of that went in a yearly pension to the Norman abbey of St Fromond, leaving only £2. 3 s. 4 d. for the vicar. Some ecclesiastics doubtless did better than others, but it seems unlikely that it was only the nuns of Stamford who were sometimes strapped for cash. Some of the church buildings surviving from early 13th-century Stamford are undeniably impressive. The splendid west tower of St Mary’s at the Bridge, dating from around 1230, is the outstanding example, but it should be noted that this probably represents more than an offering to the glory of God. No doubt it was that, but it surely also gave visual expression to the civic pride of the leading townsmen who made up the gild of St Mary, and who drew up ordinances for it in 1212, giving as its principal function the celebration of mass every day at 6 a.m., that is, at the beginning of the working day, which was thus initiated by an act of worship. It was characteristic of the age that urban solidarity should take a religious shape, and that the charitable impulses of a woman like Lucy du Hommet should take the form of a donation to poor nuns. It was likewise religious feeling, we may assume, that led to the foundation of a hospital dedicated to St John and St Thomas on the bridge over the Welland for the benefit of passing pilgrims and paupers – the St Thomas in question was Becket, not the apostle, and the hospital was founded within a decade of his violent death. And the transfer of the town’s weekly market from Sunday to Monday, recorded in 1202, can certainly be attributed to the impact of a famous preacher, the Cistercian abbot Eustace of Flaye, who only a year earlier had toured eastern and northern England calling for precisely this form of Sabbath observance. But our own age, sadly, needs no reminding that the energies unleashed by religion are not always benevolent, and this was so in medieval Stamford as well. It is a sign of the town’s prosperity that by the late 12th century it was maintaining a well-to-do Jewish community. Barred by law from commerce, its members lived principally by money-lending, an activity which was very necessary in an under-capitalised society but which can have done little to endear them to their Christian neighbours, who in any case looked on them with eyes made unfriendly by religious antagonism. English Jews stood in a particular relationship to the king, who gave them protection but retained the right to exploit their resources. The protection, though necessary, was not always very effective. Crusades were dangerous occasions for Jews, since the enmities felt for one group of spiritual antagonists, Muslims living a long way away, were easily redirected towards other non-Christian men and women who were much closer to home. In 1190 the proclamation of Richard I’s crusade triggered off a series of riots and massacres, one of them in Stamford. According to the chronicler William of Newburgh it was predominantly the work of young men who had gathered at the fair, to buy what they needed before they left for the east. Indignant, in William’s words, that `the enemies of the cross of Christ living there should possess so much’ (words suggestive of the resources the town’s Jewish community had come to enjoy), when they were themselves being put to great expense in the cause of their religion, they proceeded to set upon the Jews, pillaging their houses and killing those they could lay hands on. Many were said to have perished, and the slaughter would have been greater had not the castle given shelter to those able to escape to it. The Jewish community eventually recovered, but the process was a slow one, and it is probably not coincidence that the next time Jews were recorded it was at a humble economic level. In 1203 an unnamed Jew was said to have been a receiver of stolen goods – perhaps he was a pawnbroker. Several more years passed before Stamford Jews had the resources to act as money-lenders again. The 1190 anti-Jewish riots at Stamford may have been the most violent episode in the entire history of the town. It was an age in which violence was commonplace, of course, encouraged by the primacy given to military accomplishment, something given visual form, for instance, on the seal of the lord of Stamford, William de Warenne, representing him as a mounted knight engaged in combat. We may assume that he wasn’t often seen like this in the town itself, where, indeed, his presence in the castle, along with his retinue, was probably welcomed, whenever he moved in, for the business and employment it could create. Other barons had property in or near Stamford, and no doubt sold the produce of their estates and did their shopping there, men like William d’Aubigné of Belvoir, the lord of Newstead just north of the town, where he founded a hospital, or David, earl of Huntingdon, the king of Scots’ brother, recorded in an inquest conducted in 1212 as owning a house in Stamford. The earl’s principal residence at Fotheringhay, a few miles to the south, was close enough to the town to enable him, or members of his household, to ride there and back in a day whenever either business or pleasure invited them to do so, and it is noteworthy that the lay lords in the inquest are all recorded as having leased out their holdings. Even so, it is likely enough that such great men as these retained the right to occupy their town houses should they wish, and that their visits benefited the town’s economy when they made them. As it happens, the only magnate whose presence in Stamford can be assessed in this sort of way is the greatest of them all, the king himself. One cannot truly say that John knew the town well, but he passed through it several times, on the last occasion shortly before his death. It is his comings and goings in the weeks on either side of January 1213 which give some idea of the effect a great lord’s presence could have. John travelled with a whole cortège of carts, each one probably drawn by four horses, which in their turn all required hay and oats for their feed and the attentions of a smith when they needed re-shoeing. Each department of the royal household had its own carts – there were two each for the dispensery, otherwise known as the pantry, carrying bread, and for the buttery, transporting drink, and also a cart for the king’s own armour and weapons. In addition there were the riding horses, no fewer than twenty-seven of them, with attendant grooms to look after them. Nor was that all, for along with all these horses and carts there went the dogs, specifically foxhounds, and hawks, with which John, an enthusiastic huntsman, amused himself as he travelled. No doubt the court stocked up with food and drink in places like Stamford as it moved around, and it also made more incidental purchases – his accounts show John giving a horse, bought at Stamford for 20 s. , to a groom of the earl of Chester who had brought him a hawk, and it was probably there, too, that the lampreys which the king sent from Stamford to the earl of Salisbury were bought. Among those attracted to the scene when the king passed by were crowds of poor people, hoping for a hand-out. The king’s almoner, Brother Thomas, was in attendance, and was given two marks for distribution on 7 January 1213 – two marks were 26 s. 8 d. , so if each pauper got a penny, which seems to have been the usual rate, then at least 320 men and women would have benefited from the royal alms-giving. They probably weren’t all townspeople, and the way a royal visit could attract down-and-outs may have been one of its less welcome spin-offs. But on the whole anything which attracted crowds and brought people with money to spend into the town must have been viewed with satisfaction in Stamford. This was true of the fair, of course, and also of tournaments. The early 13th-century tournament was not like the ceremonious jousting in lists of the later middle ages, but a rehearsal for battle often barely distinguishable from it, a violent free-for-all involving hundreds of armed men extending over many acres. Henry II had forbidden them because of the disorder they provoked, but Richard I had lifted his father’s ban, to enable Englishmen to train for war, albeit only in carefully specified conditions, and places. One of those places was Stamford – or to be precise, the eight miles between the town and Wansford to the south of it (a detail which gives you some idea of the wide area over which a tournament could extend). Tournaments drew in large crowds of spectators, and also victuallers, horse-traders, armourers, anyone who could see a way to exploit the needs of the participants and onlookers. Commercially they were much like fairs, and indeed, fair and tournament became pretty well synonymous. It was probably because it was a venue for tournaments as well as fairs that Stamford seems to have become a well-known place to buy horses – in 1206 and again in 1215 King John himself ordered his agents to buy him horses there. No chronicler suggests this, but it is very possible that when the rebellious barons prepared to meet at Stamford in the latter year, they gave out that they were going to hold a tournament there. Which brings us back to Magna Carta. I should like to conclude by suggesting some of the ways in which the Charter – here seen in Lincoln Cathedral’s copy of the 1215 issue - could have affected a town like Stamford. The baronial rebellion was directed by King John’s leading subjects against a style of government which they had come to find increasingly autocratic, brutal and extortionate. It is often said that in taking up arms they were speaking and acting for nobody but themselves. This is probably true as far as it goes, but it needs to be qualified by a reminder that in the thirteenth century, and long afterwards, political activity in England was essentially what may be called a one-class affair, in which the upper echelons of society – the men (and they pretty well all were men) – who under the king effectively owned the country represented and acted on behalf of all the rest. The idea that all men (not even all women) were entitled to a role in the government of the realm only began to be advanced in the 17th century, and to be implemented in the 19th. In the 13th century it was inconceivable. But although the barons in 1215 may have thought primarily in terms of their own interests, they were not therefore always unresponsive to those of others, and what they demanded, and obtained, had repercussions extending well beyond what were probably their essential purposes. Thus many barons became indebted to Jews, and the regulations in clauses 10 and 11 to regulate the treatment of their debts after their deaths, so that the interests of wives and children were protected, were doubtless principally drawn up on their own behalf, but they clearly also had the potential to benefit any member of a community which, like Stamford, contained a Jewish component and borrowed money from its members. The support of London was vital to the barons, and clause 13, which guaranteed the capital’s liberties, reflected this fact, but its extension to all other towns naturally benefited places like Stamford as well, as did clause 20, which in laying down that monetary fines should be in proportion to the offence, specified that fines imposed upon merchants were not to be such as to deprive them of the wares from which they made their living. Many of the clauses in the Charter deal with matters on the face of it far removed from the fundamental liberties with which it is usually associated. What on earth, we wonder, was at issue in clause 23, forbidding the commandeering of labour to build bridges? The answer is both simple and revealing. I mentioned King John’s fondness for hunting, and his travelling round with dogs and hawks. Hawking was a sport engaged in pre-eminently by river-sides, and those taking part in it often needed to cross from one bank to the other as they followed their birds. The king traditionally had the right to have makeshift bridges made to enable him to enjoy his sport in certain limited places. John extended this right to cover the whole country. The hearts of Stamfordians probably sank when he turned up with his hawks, knowing that he might well decide to ride out along the Welland for some sport and force men to leave their ploughs and lay down bridges for his benefit. The barons were doubtless thinking of their own fields and workforces, but Clause 23 protected many others as well. Clause 33, prohibiting fishtraps, gave primacy to the Thames and was clearly another concession to London. The traps in question were substantial timber structures which hindered the movement of goods by water and constituted a threat to shipping. It mattered to a place like Stamford, which could be reached by boat as well as by road, that the Welland should be kept clear of such hazards. Clause 35, ordering the standardisation of weights and measures throughout the kingdom, was likely to benefit any trading community, and must also have flattered Stamford hearts by making specific mention of haberget as one of the cloths whose size it prescribed. Clause 41, licensing free movement for merchants except in wartime, will have been welcomed in a town whose fair was attaining an international dimension. Clauses 47 and 48, dealing with the royal forests and the malpractices of the officials who administered them, probably also had repercussions for the inhabitants of a town with many forests nearby – in 1234 the office of royal forester in the midlands was said to constitute a bailiwick extending `from the bridge of Stamford to the bridge of Oxford’. None of these clauses was drawn up with the interests of Stamford in mind, but all had the potential to benefit the town. The campaign launched here in 1215 had effects undreamt of by its participants. But we all have to start somewhere, and I hope it is a source of satisfaction to you to reflect that the place where all this started was Stamford. Print version available HERE Previous Next

< Back A List of Stamford Aldermen, 1398-1457 Chris Hunt 2022 Francis Howgrave in his 1726 book: An Essay of The Ancient and Present State of Stamford , listed ‘Aldermen of the Gild’ from 1398 to 1457. He states that Stamford was governed by prescriptive Magistrates long before King Edward IV’s Charter, but due to rebellious times, ill kept records and the town consumed by fire, many of Stamford’s records were lost. But, George Hill, Steward of the Town, and Alderman in 1662, had preserved a Roll listing sixty Aldermen prior to George Chapman who is mentioned as Alderman in the Edward IV Charter, sealed in 1462. 1398 George Wyches 1399 Stephen Maxey 1400 Robert Locksmith 1401 John Stanby 1402 Thomas Storine 1403 Thomas Spicer 1404 Ralph Harwood 1405 John Palfreeman 1406 Ralph Browne 1407 John Stacy 1408 Alexander Haine 1409 Robert Locksmith (2) 1410 Thomas Basset 1411 John Browne 1412 William Locksmith 1413 John Stanby (2) 1414 John Palfreeman (2) 1415 Alexander Mercer 1416 John Allock 1417 Andrew Draper 1418 Thomas Basset (2) 1419 John Browne 1420 Thomas Ralph 1421 Thomas Spicer (2) 1422 John Palfreeman (3) 1423 John Whitsade 1424 John Browne 1425 Robert Bendboar 1426 Thomas Basset (3) 1427 Thomas Spicer (3) 1428 John Longe 1429 John Page 1430 Richard Lee 1431 Laurence Melton 1432 William Marwood 1433 Richard Lee (2) 1434 Laurence Melton (2) 1435 William Browne 1436 William Marwood (2) 1437 Richard Lee (3) 1438 Robert Browne 1439 William Sturton 1440 Thomas Balksay 1441 William Browne (2) 1442 John Page (2) 1443 Richard Lee (4) 1444 Laurence Melton (3) 1445 John Browne 1446 William Browne (3) 1447 William Sturton (2) 1448 Richard Blagwin 1449 Thomas Gregory 1450 John Browne 1451 Laurence Melton (4) 1452 John Gregory 1453 John Page (2) 1454 William Hickham 1455 William Sturton (3) 1456 Thomas Gregory (2) 1457 William Browne (4) Notes The ( ) next to an aldeman indicates the number of times he held that office. There is no such number against John Browne as not all the persons listed above in the name are the same Alderman. For instance a John Browne died in July 1442, and a John Browne was again Alderman in 1462. Some genealogists list four generations of John Browne in Stamford. However, the William Browne who was Alderman in 1435, 1441, 1446 and 1457, did go on to be an Alderman in 1466 and 1470. Francis Howgrave does not list Aldermen for the years 1458, 1459, and 1460. The late Professor Alan Rogers published an article in Lincolnshire History & Archaeology Vol 41 (2006) which lists earlier Aldermen, variants, and analysis on the above list using deeds and leases. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

Find out about events at The Stamford Local History Society where we discover more about the history of our town and the local area. Become a member today. EVENTS In keeping with the aims of the Society, visits to local places of interest are arranged during the summer months. In addition, the Society may at other times of the year arrange commemorative displays in the town. Visits Summer 2027 Guided tour & refreshments at Molecey's Mill, West Deeping, £15 per person Prior years have included Guided tours of Longthorpe Tower, Apethorpe Palace & Burghley House Roof. The Stamford Canal Walk and Talk. Castor St. Kyneburgha's Church visit. Displays and Events Summer 2026 Heritage Open Day at Stamford Library Free Events. The Society is supporting a number of Walk and Talks and Research Workshops in Stamford Library. These will include: Stamford Walk & Talk Down Ryhall Road Saturday12th September with Chris Hunt. British Newspaper Archive Workshop Thursday 17th September with Chris Hunt. Walk & Talk Dry Pub Crawl Around the Centre of Stamford on Saturday 19th September with Chris Hunt. Weekly Wednesday sessions in Stamford Library. See Stamford Library website for details. Prior years have included Commemoration of hundredth anniversary of WWI at the Stamford Arts Centre A Dry Pub Crawl Around St Martin’s Parish. Stamford’s Medieval Walls and Gates. The Town's Early History along Ermine Street and Ryhall Road. Stamford's Northfields Estate.

< Back Religious Foundations of Medieval Stamford John S Hartley and Alan Rogers 2017 There have been many requests for this book which is now out of print and not easily reprintable, so we have decided to create a .pdf of the book for free distribution. We have taken the opportunity to list below additional information found since its original publication under each of the headings as below. This pdf may be copied freely - we hope that eventually it will be available for download on the website of the Stamford and District Local History Society John S Hartley Alan Rogers February 2017 T he book can be read HERE ADDITIONAL INFORMATION GENERAL Considerable information about the ownership of property in Stamford by all the religious foundations is to be found in the following volumes which have been published since this catalogue was first produced: The Act Book of St Katherine’s Gild, Stamford, 1480-1534 edited Alan Rogers 2011 Bury St Edmunds: abramis ISBN 978-1-84549-509-1; 299 pages People and Property in medieval Stamford: a catalogue of title deeds from Stamford, Lincolnshire, from the twelfth century to 1547 2012 edited Alan Rogers abramis ISBN 978-1-84549-548-0 Noble Merchant: William Browne (c1410-1489) and Stamford in the fifteenth century, Alan Rogers 2012, abramis ISBN 978-1-84549-565-7 ALL SAINTS CHURCH Robert rector of church of All Saints in the Market late 12th century PRO E326/4293, 4626 Proctor of the mass celebrated in the church of All Saints in the Market 1339-40, PRO E326/4690 Church taxed at 8 marks 1450 PRO E36/52 Stock of All Saints gild valued at £4 1524/5 PRO E179/136/315 ST ANDREW’S CHURCH It would seem to have been located in the churchyard of St Michael - see PRO E326/4736 for mention of two churchyards; see also M E Briston and T M Halliday (ed) The Pilsgate Manor of the Sacrist of Peterborough Northants Record Society 2009 p 91 - St Michael’s church paying a rent for two churchyards in Staunford, 1271-4 ST CLEMENTS CHURCH Ascelin priest of St Clements church late 12th century PRO E326/4626 ‘Parson’ of St Clements church taxed to lay [sic] subsidy 12d, 1450 PRO 179/276/44 Chantry certificate 1548 PRO E301/33/122 ST GEORGE’S CHURCH This may be the church of St Gregory mentioned in PRO CP40/296 m42; Justin Simpson’s notes 1 p56 (in Town Hall, Stamford) 1450 church was untaxed - a pension of 16s was due to Fromond priory PRO E36/62 Stipend of the church in 1524/5 was £4 PRO E179/136/315 HOLY TRINITY/ ST STEPHENS CHURCH Stock of the gild of Holy Trinity valued at £3 1524-25 PRO E179/136/315 CPSD letters ST JOHN THE BAPTIST Valued at 17 marks without the pension to Fromond 1450 PRO E36/62 ST MARTIN’S CHURCH Gild taxed at 6d in 1450 PRO E179/276/44; paid pension to sacrist of Peterborough PRO E36/62 Stock of St Martin’s gild valued at £3 in 1524-25 PRO E179/136/315 Chantry certificate 1548 in full in Justin Simpson’s notes 1 page 93 Inquiry into land of church 1617 Justin Simpson’s notes 1 pages 140-1 ST MARY’S CHURCH Gild of Corpus Christi taxed at 6s in 1449-50, PRO E179/276/44 Gild of Our Lady, stock valued at £10 1524-25 PRO E179/136/315 ST MARY BYNEWERK See Howgrave pp 10, 96 ST MICHAEL’S CHURCH Pension in 1450 was 14s PRO E36/62 See St Andrews church Gild in St Michael’s church: in 1524-25, the stipend of the church was valued at £2, the stipend of the gild at £6, PRO E179/136/315 ST PAUL’S CHURCH For the gild of St Katherine which met in this church, see St Katherine’s Gild book listed above ST PETER’S CHURCH Valued at 14½ marks with pension to Lincoln of 20s in 1450 PRO E36/62 DEAN OF STAMFORD Alexander dean early thirteenth century PRO E326/4548 Reiner dean teacher and dean; probably son of Herward PRO E326/ 4541, 4548, 4626 1442 the will of John Browne father of William Browne was proved in the court of the dean of Stamford held in All Saints church; Devon Record Office Simcoe 1038 M/T/9/2. BROWNE’S HOSPITAL The most up-to-date account of this hospital is to be found in Nick Hill and Alan Rogers 2013 Guild, Hospital and Alderman: new light on the founding of Browne’s Hospital, Stamford 1475-1509 abramis The Wardens: managing a late medieval hospital (Browne’s Hospital, Stamford 1495-1518) edited Alan Rogers 2014 abramis and Stamford Survey Group. ST GILES HOSPITAL For Spittle Close in 1556, see Justin Simpson’s notes 1 pp 111-112 ST JOHN’S HOSPITAL Justin Simpson’s notes 1 p 91 cites chantry certificate: the free chapel of St John is annexed to a spittell house being situated upon Stamford bridge and is no parish church; one stipendiary priest SCHOOLS John Cissor alumpnus quondam domini Henrici Engayne 13th century PRO E328/16 Master Peter alumnus of Reiner sometime dean of Stamford thirteenth century PRO E326/4541 ST LEONARDS PRIORY Rent in St Mary’s parish, thirteenth century PRO E326/4553 1450 valued same as in 1291, PRO E36/62 1833 rebuilding John Chandler notes pages 188-9 See: Alan Piper, St Leonard’s Priory in Stamford Historian Nos 5 & 6 NUNNERY OF ST MICHAEL Possessions in the whole diocese valued at £66 13s 4d 1450 PRO E36/62 AUSTIN FRIARS Illustration on p.60 – the stone is now to be found on the inside face of the (rebuilt) town wall on the south side of North Street almost opposite the former Police Station, technically in the back garden of a Barn Hill property. Contribution by Lady Margaret Beaufort to repairs at Austin Friars of £3-6-8 St John’s Cambridge D91.20 p.195 GREY FRIARS First mention in 1240-45 in Calendar of Liberate Rolls 1240-45 p 253 [thanks to Martin Olle) Excavations by Cambridge Archaeological Unit 2015-16 - report not available yet BRAZENOSE SITE See Nicholas Sheehan’s article at https://www.stamfordhistorysociety.co.uk/published-articles-1/the-brazenose-site-in-stamford MONASTIC HOUSES ASHBY PRIORY: Rent of 2s given to canons of St Mary, Esseby, mid 13th century PRO E326/4760 BOURNE ABBEY held property in Stamford valued at £2 and free of court, 1450 PRO E36/62 BROOKE PRIORY: Valuation in 1450 same as 1291 PRO E36/62 CROWLAND: Valuation in 1450 same as 1291 PRO E36/62 CROXDEN ABBEY: Valued at £17 10s in 1450 - tax is paid by the tenants PRO E36/62 For sale in 1545, see Justin Simpson notes 1 p 27 CROXTON: Valuation in 1450 same as 1291 PRO E36/62 Bought by Thomas earl of Rutland in 1547 but came back to the king PRO E328/157 FINESHADE PRIORY: Valuation in 1450 same as 1291; tax paid by the tenants PRO E36/62 Rent of ½ mark in St Mary’s parish PRO E326/4551 Gable in west end of house used to support a beam, PRO E326/4747 House in Colgate PRO E326/4752 HUNTINGDON PRIORY : Valuation in 1450 same as 1291 PRO E36/62 See Justin Simpson’s notes 1 pp 28-29 PIPEWELL ABBEY: Valued at £2 6s 8d in 1450, PRO E36/62 SEMPRINGHAM PRIORY: Dispute between Elmes and Lee over a garden in the parish of St Peter which Lee claimed Sempringham had leased to him in 1528, PRO E321/15/7 SWINESHEAD ABBEY: See Calendar of Patent Rolls Elizabeth 1 Vol 5 p.74-5, No. 554 21 March 1570: Lease for 11 years to William Cecil lord Burghley of lands [...in Bourne ....] and (tenant named) in Stampford co Linc late of monastery of Swineshead .... rents a) £27-15-8 (detailed) and b) 8s. in consideration that three tenements on the premises have been burnt down and must be rebuilt - also costs of draining marshlands and repairing 2 mills badly decayed for which the Crown has been charged ....... VAUDEY ABBEY: Valuation in 1450 same as 1291 PRO E36/62 ANCHORESSES: There are several references to be found in the papers of Lady Margaret Beaufort in St John’s College, Cambridge, D91; see also publications listed at head of this note; also, E A Jones Speculum Inclusorum: a mirror for recluses Liverpool University Press 2013. Previous Next

< Back The Stamford Deviation Mike Sockett 2018 There is a common assertion that the Great Northern Railway planned for their route to come through, or near to, Stamford and that it was the objection of the Marquis of Exeter that stopped this. However there is evidence that this was not the case and is certainly not the whole picture. In May 1844 the GNR proposed a route through Peterborough and a meeting was held in Stamford to lobby for a ‘deviation’ that would take the railway near the town, with a station at Newstead. By August the GNR had decided against the deviation, though the people of Stamford continued campaigning. It seems that the Marquis of Exeter initially supported this deviation but by 1846 had withdrawn his support and then become an active opponent. There is s letter in the Mercury on June 14th 1847 which is a clear attack on Exeter accusing him of being a hypocrite. In this it is asserted that when the deviation was proposed Exeter actually drew a line of the railway on the map and made sure it would pass through his land! It is then asserted that when the GNR refused to give him the price he was asking for his land he withdrew his support and instructed his Parliamentary nominee Granby to remove from the Bill all references to the Stamford deviation. As the letter is signed by ‘a person’ this was clearly a political issue – there was general election the following month. A Committee of the House of Commons had considered the issue of the deviation and gave their reasons for refusal on June 8th 1847, here addressing the role of the Marquis of Exeter: “….it may well have weighed with the Committee to consider whether they would sanction anything which could in any way injure or detract from the noble, and princely, and historical domain of Burghley…..these cases were by no means the grounds for our decision. It was a matter of public not private interest which swayed us in the judgement at which we arrive.” The Committee also dealt clearly with the whole issue of whether the deviation was in the general interest: “…..as the station intended for them by the Great Northern was to be upwards of a mile from the town of Stamford, they would still have that distance to go to gain the GN, thereby gaining an advantage of only three miles, while the rest of England travelling on that line and not intending to stop at Stamford, would be carried nearly two miles out of their course by the proposed deviation; and it came therefore to a nice account for the Committee to settle between Stamford and all the rest of the travelling world, whether the people of Stamford should go three miles out of their way or all other travellers two miles. It was, as it were, a fair match between Stamford on the one side and all England and Scotland on the other; we thought that England had it.” There are two interpretations of the role of Burghley in this: Firstly that he did not want the GNR through Stamford, but supported the campaign of the town to keep in with its citizens (and voters!). His support is referred to as ‘luke warm’ in one source. Secondly that he did want Stamford on the GNR because it would be very profitable for him, but he miscalculated the price the company was willing to pay for his land. It would seem that the idea of the GNR passing through, or near to, Stamford was never part of the railway company’s plan and it was always referred to as a ‘deviation’, ie a deviation from the preferred route through Peterborough and Tallington. For a map of railway routes in the Stamford area that shows the line of the deviation proposal see Martin Smith, ‘Stamford Then and Now’, (1992), page 120. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back The Incumbents of the Stamford Churches c.1886 By Chris Hunt From Simpson Papers in Town Hall, My Notes Vol 1 pp.6 & 8 Limericks have always been popular, especially in the later C19th after Edward Lear published a series in 1845. However these reflect the attitude from the organ loft of one church ….. Six churches so six incumbents – those were the days! – JSH Found among the papers of St Michael’s Church c.1970 “Some Evangelists and some Pastors and Teachers.” Stamford St. Martin’s Rev. Chancellor My first is the Chancellor haughty It’s nice, folks have said, but it’s naughty With maidens to play At all hours of the day So be careful, my Chancellor haughty. St. Mary Rev Wickham My second’s th’evangelist Wickham With grace, meet and unction to lick ‘em If he’d sit rather less And stand more, I’d bless The burning and shining light, Wickhan. St. John Rev. Waller My third‘s the uxorious Waller Whose truths are not easy to swaller To blackguard the Pope Seems the limit and scope Of the brainless book learning of Waller. All .Saint Rev. Oldfield My fourth is the sociable Oldfield Who they say has the wealth of a goldfield His nieces are charming But it’s more than alarming To sit for an hour under Oldfield St. George.Rev. HB Browning My fifth is the invalid Browning Much given to fireside and frowning When the Litany’s said Then he’s off to his bed The prudent but profitless Browning St. Michael Rev.H. Macdougall My sixth’s the well loving Macdougall This last rouses black bile and blue gall If your voice is in trim Try his Jubilee Hymn And you’ll make some remarks on Macdougall “ 1886 By Messrs. Hailstone (tutor) and Harvey, (Organist, St. George) “ A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Stamford in Domesday Book Dr David Roffe 2018 Stamford and District Local History Society, 15 February 2018 Introduction Thank you so much for inviting me to Stamford. It is a great delight to be back here again and to be invited to reflect on the history of the town. I first began thinking about its origins and early history in 1975. I had volunteered to work on the castle excavation directed by Christine Mahany. Many of you will remember the site. It was at the time one of the largest medieval excavations ever undertaken and certainly unprecedented in terms of a castle. The finds were quite spectacular, not that I had much to do with them: it soon became apparent, in fact by lunchtime on the first day, that I was not a natural digger. Bang went another career option. I could read Latin, though, and in the afternoon I was sent off to the office in Kings Mill House to try to make sense of the medieval documents relating to the castle and the town generally. The rest is history. Chris and I presented a synthesis of the historical and archaeological evidence for the origins and growth of Stamford at the Battle Conference in 1982. The paper was published in Anglo-Norman Studies in the following year. Much of the conclusions was based on the first comprehensive analysis of the Domesday account of the town. Historians had long mined the source for information, but there had never been a comprehensive analysis in terms of the later history of the lands that it describes. Tonight I shall revisit that study for the first time in 35 years. The intervening years has seen much new research in the field of Domesday studies, but I am glad to say that, by and large, our analysis has stood up well. The Domesday account of Stamford Domesday Book comes in two parts. Volume 2 is known as Little Domesday Book and describes the three eastern counties of Essex, Norfolk and Suffolk. Volume 1, Great Domesday, covers the rest of the country south of the Tees and just a tiny bit of Wales. The relationship between the two parts does not concern us today. Suffice it to say that the account of Stamford occurs on folio 336d of Great Domesday. It appears at the head of the Lincolnshire folios after the account of Lincoln and is followed by Torksey and then the body of the text, the account of the lands of the tenants-in-chief, substantially the barons of the shire. It is written in Latin, but in a highly contracted form. You will notice that almost every word in the text exhibits diacriticals, that is distinctive marks that indicate the omission of letters (figure 1). This system of shorthand speeded up writing, but sometimes it is difficult to reconstruct exactly what the scribe wanted to say. Fortunately, our chap was on his best behaviour when he wrote up Stamford, for there are relatively few contractions and suspensions. We are not always so lucky, but here we can be confident of what he intended (figure 1). Figure 1: the Domesday account of Stamford The Domesday Survey Before we dive in and examine what he wrote we must first get some idea of why the Domesday survey, and Domesday Book that was compiled from its returns, was commissioned in the first place. Otherwise, we shall not be able to interpret what is recorded. You may have a vague idea from schooldays of the Domesday survey as a census. Well, it wasn't. To start with, at least half of the population is missing: there are next-to-no women mentioned in the text. More credible is the notion that Domesday was compiled as an inventory of William the Conqueror's new realm. Even so, there are still problems. William defeated King Harold at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Why, then, did he leave it until 1086 to undertake the survey? True the Conquest was not complete until the fall of Ely in 1071, but the Domesday survey was still 15 years after. In reality the survey addressed urgent problems in 1085. England was threatened with invasion. King Cnut of Denmark had formed an alliance with Count Robert of Flanders and had mustered a fleet to conquer England. His claim to the throne was arguably stronger than William's and he must have thought that large parts of England were in one way or another sympathetic to his cause. William clearly saw Cnut as an existential threat to his rule. He was in Normandy when he heard of the imminent invasion, and acted with characteristic decisiveness. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells us that he crossed the channel with the largest force of mercenaries that had ever been seen in England. Meanwhile, Archbishop Lanfranc of Canterbury had convened a conference and it was decided to billet the troops on landholders throughout the country. In the event for various reasons the invasion was put off until the spring of 1086 and was then abandoned after the death of Cnut. William, though, was not to know this in late 1085. He laid off some of the mercenaries over the winter, but nevertheless continued with preparations for a renewed onslaught. He ordered the coast to be wasted to deprive any invading army of sustenance. All military enterprises depended on foraging for supplies in the eleventh cent ury. Further, at his Christmas court in Gloucester he appointed trusted agents to East Anglia which, with its Anglo-Scandinavian population, was seen as a particularly exposed Achilles heel. Wulfketel at Crowland was replaced by Ingulf and Gunter was appointed to Thorney and Maurice to the see of London (with extensive estates in Essex and East Anglia, the bishopric was a key player in the east of England). All three were trusted royal priests whom William could rely upon to represent his interests and act decisively. This was the context in which the Domesday survey was commissioned. At the same Christmas court, as recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, William ordered a survey of the king's income in land and taxes and an equally exhaustive inquiry into the income and services of his tenants- in-chief, that is the barons. It is clear that the immediate aim was to raise cash to pay the mercenaries, but there was also a determination to plan for the future. The survey began in January 1086 and seems to have been complete by late June or early July. At a meeting, 'of all those who held land in England', at Salisbury in August 1086 taxation was extended to the lord's demesne and, it seems, new quotas of knights were determined. Never again was the realm to be dependent on mercenaries for its defence or at least that was the aim. The writing of the Book All of the data that were collected were then written up in what we now know as Domesday Book. When is a matter of debate. Many insist that it was compiled as part of the 1086 programme. But it is odd that it was not a complete record of the survey: it omits much of the data. I have therefore argued that it was a later enterprise ordered by William's son, William Rufus, in 1090. In 1088 there had been a rebellion against the new king which had occasioned much tenurial chaos. Domesday Book may have been compiled to inform a settlement. Writing in 1125 or so, the Anglo-Norman historian Orderic Vitalis probably makes an oblique reference to the enterprise. However, there is no explicit mention of the Book until the early years of the reign of Henry I, so it may have been compiled anytime up to 1102. The structure of the Stamford account Whatever its date, Domesday Book was clearly a royal feodary, that is a work of reference drawn up to inform government of the king's interests and dues. As such, it was an abstract – most noticeably the livestock so carefully recorded in the survey was jettisoned – but it drew all its data from the survey. The sort of information we get, then, is determined by the concerns of 1086. It is thus not surprising to find that the account of Stamford is divided into two broad sections, that is the income of the king and those of his tenants-in-chief. Both are signalled by capital letters and, intermittently, by paragraphoi, that is gallows marks, for the latter (figure 1). Now, Domesday talks in terms of land, terra in Latin, but we must take care not to be misled thereby. What is mostly involved is rights over land rather than in what we would call real estate. In an urban context those rights were various. Foremost was landgabel or gafol. This was a rent, usually around a shilling a year, due from the community of the borough. This sum, however, if prominent, was not the sum total of what 'land' signified. There were also renders that Domesday generically calls consuetudines, 'customs', payments in coin and kind that represent a former food rent, and occasional labour services such as mowing on the king or lord's demesne. Then there was soca, 'soke', that included dues for the right to bake and brew as well as the amercements, fines in modern terms, that were paid in the borough court. Finally, there were tolls which were taxes on the buying, selling, and the passage of goods. Land itself, freehold to be anachronistic, generally resided in the townsmen. The king's income Having cleared the ground, we can now get down to the nitty-gritty. We first get a statement of the tax the town paid to the king (figure 2); it was assessed at 12½ hundreds. In the Danelaw the hundred was not the institution of the same name of hidated England. That was represented by the wapentake. The northern hundred was more like a vill, the unit of local government at its lowest level – think the civil parish of today – and it was rated at 12 carucates. So Stamford was assessed at 150 carucates for the geld, army and navy service, and Danegeld. The town was divided into six wards. We have no further information, but they were probably each associated with the gates of the town. That was certainly the pattern elsewhere. The ward was a unit of policing – hence watch and ward – and an association with routes into a town is common. In the later Middle Ages there were five gates north of the river in Stamford and probably a sixth in Stamford Baron. All the dues that resulted accrued to the king. It should be noted that the ward south of the river was an integral part of the town even though in Northamptonshire. There is no evidence that it was ever constituted as a separate borough. Figure 2: tax and the wards of the town Then we move onto the number of properties that owed their dues to the king – 141 and half a mill in 1066 and the same in 1086 less 5 that had been destroyed in the building of the castle (figure 3). The dues of 4 others had been taken away by Brand, whom we can identify as abbot of Peterborough. A further two belonged to a Wulfketel son of Merewine who was almost certainly the former abbot of Crowland. Figure 3: the land of the king Finally, there were 77 properties that belonged to privileged sokemen over whom the king had more limited rights, namely heriot, forfeiture, and toll alone, that is death duty, the right to land consequent to felony and the like, and, as we have seen, taxes on traded goods (figure 4). Sokemen are not usually found in towns. Indeed, this reference is all but unique in an urban context. But in status they were akin to burgesses. Both, for example, had similar inheritance customs. In Stamford throughout the Middle Ages the property of an intestate burgess passed to his youngest son rather than his eldest. Many rural sokemen were also subject to this custom which became known in English law as Borough English. Eustace of Huntingdon who took away the mill was sheriff of Huntingdonshire. He, like sheriffs in general, was a notorious despoiler of land. How he came to put his oar into Stamford is unrecorded. Figure 4: the land of the sokemen The land and income of senior townsmen and tenants-in-chief As we have seen, the second section deals with dues that did not go to the king. Lawmen come first (figure 5). Twelve in 1066 and 9 in 1086 and holding in all 51½ properties, they held with sake and soke, that is all customs apart from the ones explicitly excluded here. They were judges of the law, receptacles of local custom rather than the bewigged panjandrums of today, but it is clear from a twelfth-century text called the Leges Edwardi Confessoris that they also acted as royal agents. They were responsible for recording crimes – in Stamford in 1226 they are called coroners – and they made distraints, that is took goods as bail, for offenders to appear in court. These are functions that were later granted by charter and so we are effectively looking at a town council. Unlike in Lincoln, the lawmen are not named. We do, however, have a valuable record of the properties they held. They were substantial townsmen and in all likelihood English. Fastolf too was English, holding a single church in 1086 which was quit, that is no dues were paid to the king (figure 6). Unfortunately, there is no record of who held the church in 1086. Figure 5: lawmen Figure 6: Fastolf Then we have a series of barons who had interests in Stamford. We can best start with the 9 properties held by Leofwine in 1066 and Alfred of Lincoln in 1086, We learn from Alfred's chapter in the body of the text that these belonged to his manor of Uffington (figure 7). We have no explicit evidence of this kind for other holdings, but the later history of some indicate other connections with rural manors. We learn from the 1212 survey of Stamford that the 23 properties held by Earnwine the priest and Eadsige and then Eudo Dapifer belonged to the manor of Wakerley in Northamptonshire (figure 8). The same source indicates that the 7 properties of Azor and Gunfrid de Chocques belonged to the manor of Casewick. Edward Cild's 14 properties belonged to Witham, Sproxton, or Tickencote. Finally, there were 10 properties in Lincolnshire, that is north of the river, that belonged to Peterborough abbey. I have been unable to place them in any particular manor. Figure 7: the manor of Uffington Figure 8: properties belonging to rural manors Queen Edith's fee Contributory manors, as they are known, of this kind are a common characteristic of English towns. They have been used to indicate the territory that was assigned to boroughs. Here, though, they are few in number and so little can be made of the pattern they describe. The 70 properties held by Queen Edith, the wife of King Edward the Confessor, which are described next may superficially appear to be of the same order. In reality, however, they are of a completely different type of holding (figure 9). Domesday indicates that the fee belonged to Roteland, that is the northern part of what became Rutland in the next century. This was an ancient dowage estate of the queens of England that consisted of a number of separate manors. The value at the end of the Stamford entry clearly indicates that the 70 properties had been one of them. Thus, in 1066 Queen Edith's fee was adjacent to the borough but not part of it. As odd as it may seem, this was by no means a unique characteristic of Stamford. Most English boroughs had royal and/or comital (earl's) estates closely associated with them. What is usual here, however, it that the estate was administered by the sheriff of Nottingham as Domesday indicates at the beginning of the account of Roteland. Figure 9: Queen Edith's fee By 1086 the 70 properties had become incorporated into Lincolnshire and Stanford. The fee of Albert of Lorraine, a priest of the royal household, hints at a reason. Albert held the church of St Peter's in Stamford which is said to have belonged to the church of Hambledon (figure 10). The same point is made in a reference to Albert's land in the account of Roteland itself (figure 11). However, we know from a charter of William Rufus that Albert had been granted all the churches of Roteland. We can, then, understand that St Peter's was the church of Queen Edith's manor here in Stamford. You are all familiar with the site of the church. It was adjacent to the castle and so it is likely the castle site too was originally in Roteland. If so, the whole area was moved into Lincolnshire to bring it under the control of the sheriff of Lincoln. In the later Middle Ages the combined lands were known as 'the castle and manor of Stamford'. Figure 10: Albert of Lorraine's church St Peter Figure 11: Albert's fee in Roteland The boundary between Roteland and Lincolnshire was moved out of the town to Ermine Street to the west. Domesday Book recognizes the change by describing the Roteland portion of Stamford in a postscriptal entry in the Northamptonshire folios where it is called Portland (figure 12). The churches of St Peter's and All Saints held land there under the king. In the later Middle Ages the area, the West Field of Stamford, was known as Sundersoken which means 'estate apart'. Figure 12: Portland Stamford in the late eleventh century Well, what does all of this tell us about the town in 1086? We can start with size. The assessment at 12½ hundreds, ie 150 carucates, tells us Stamford was by far the largest settlement in south Lincolnshire in terms of the tax it paid. The number of properties might be expected to give some indication of just how big it was (figure 13). In total 405½ are recorded. But the Latin term, mansio, plural mansiones, is an unknown quantity. It is usually translated as something like messuage or tenement; I have used the more neutral 'property' advisedly. What it was definitely not was a house: in Nottingham we have a reference to 3 mansiones in which there were 11 houses (domus). So, there were probably considerably more houses in Stamford in 1086. Moreover, the account is demonstrably incomplete. Although Stamford Baron was already in existence, no details are given. The earliest survey comes from 1125 when there were 74 properties of various kinds. Many of them must have been in existence in 1086. We must, then, be careful how we interpret the figures. It has often been stated, for example, that the castle was built on the fringe of settlement since only five mansiones were destroyed. In reality, we don't know how any houses this implies and anyway we are told only about those that had rendered dues to the king. Figure 13: summary Our numbers are uncertain, but we can say something more about the physical extent of the town north of the river. We have four explicit markers. First, there is the bridge. It was on the same site as today judging from the twelfth-century structure at its south end. Second, the castle, the earliest part of the extant structure being the motte, the present bus station. Third, St Peter's church, now marked by a mound on St Peter's Hill. Finally, All Saints church – later known as All Saints in the Market – which still stands in Red Lion Square. Although somewhat better than for some towns, this is seemingly a poor yield from such a detailed survey. Fortunately, though, other markers can be deduced from the later history of the fees described. In the early thirteenth century William de Lanvalie granted the church of St Clement's to St Michael's nunnery in Stamford. William was the lord of Wakerley and the successor to Eudo Dapifer. It seems likely, then, that one of the churches that Eudo held in 1086 was St Clements. It was situated somewhere close to Barn Hill House in Scotgate – skeletons have come to light from the garden – and so it seems that the area was already developed in 1086. William is not recorded as granting any other church, so the second one held by Eudo cannot be identified. Fastolf and his church present a more difficult problem. We have no record of who held in 1086, so we cannot trace its later descent. Its status, however, may provide a clue. It was quit, so it was held in chief of the king. This profile fits Holy Trinity outside St Paul's gate. In the thirteenth century it was the only church in Stamford that had its own court, as did other lords in Stamford who held in chief of the king. Finally, there is the land held by Crowland. Abbot Ulfketil is not recorded as holding a church. By the mid twelfth century, however, the abbey held St Michael's and this church is likely to mark at least one of Ulfketil's properties. We end up with a somewhat detailed topography for such an early period. By 1086 Stamford seems to have reached the full extent of the thirteenth-century town (figure 14). There were certainly no walls at this time – they are of later construction – but it is possible that even the line of the later defences, in part or whole, was already established. It might be doubtful, though, that the town was infilled to the same degree as later. Figure 14: the thirteenth-century town Despite such riches, ranking Stamford among the 70 or so boroughs of England in 1086 remains a difficult task, not the least because different units are used from town to town. Had all of them been measured in terms of mansiones, comparison would be possible. But they aren't. Beside mansiones we also find burgenses, domus, hagae, acrae, or a combination of two or more. So it is that value to the king is the best metric of size, as imperfect as it is (figure 15). Stamford rendered in total £78 in 1086. This does not put it in the Premier League of the English boroughs recorded in Domesday Book. Lincoln, York, Norwich and, of course, London although not fully described, were altogether much bigger and richer boroughs. But Stamford was well up in the First Division. Figure 15: the value of the town Conclusion Tonight I have confined myself to the Domesday evidence. There is, of course, a lot more evidence out there (figure 16). I have not touched on the archaeology, topography, nor numismatics. However, it is Domesday that provides the framework for understanding the early history of Stamford. The most important conclusion that Chris and I reached in 1982 was that the castle perpetuated a centre of authority of long standing. Adjacent to St Peter's church, it almost certainly replaced the manor house of Queen Edith's fee. That association in its turn provided context to late ninth-century defences that we found beneath the bailey. If we are looking at one area that we can identify as the origin of the town it is here. How it relates to the rest of the town is another story and another lecture. Figure 16: archaeology ©David Roffe 2018 A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Early History of a Mormon Community in Stamford Submitted by Chris Hunt The Mormons.- This sect (‘Latter-day Saints’ as they call themselves) have taken the room lately occupied by the Wesleyans in Gas Lane, Stamford, for the purpose of giving lectures every Sunday. It was opened on the 20th ult. (October 20th 1850), with a speech by an American elder, and last Sunday two men, one a labourer named Grice, from a village in the neighbourhood, addressed the congregation, consisting of about 20 persons including children. One of them spoke at great length on baptismal regeneration; and from the arguments used, it might be supposed that he had just come from the hands of Bishop Philpot (Strict Baptist – North Street Chapel, Stamford), had he not said that the world had been without successors to the Apostles for several hundred years, until an Angel appeared to Joe Smith, and made a revelation to him, and now the Latter-day Saints had the same power as St Peter, to admit into heaven all who believe and are baptised in their faith. Source Stamford Mercury November 1st 1850 p3/c2 In 1851 the Church of Latter Day Saints’ was recorded in the Census of Religious Worship. GAS LANE LATTER DAY SAINTS’ CHAPEL 1851. Parish of St. George. Erected about the year 1836. Separate and entire building. Used exclusively as a place of worship. Free sittings 14. On 30th March (1851). In afternoon General Congregation 14. In evening General Congregation 17. Signed Henry Wilson, Elder. Larton (Laxton) Court, St Leonard’s Street. Source Lincolnshire Returns of the Census of Religious Worship 1851. Edited by R.W.Ambler, M.A. Published by the Lincoln Record Society Volume 72 (1979) page 4. Note Below Henry Wilson was born in Castle Bytham on May 9th 1809 and died on July12th 1882 and is buried in Salt Lake City Cemetery, Utah, USA. He was a baker and confectioner and was still living in St Leonard’s Street in 1861 with his wife Mary Ann Wilson. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next