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  • Stamford and the Plague

    the plague and parish registers < Back Stamford and the Plague, 1604 Aubrey Plowman 1980 The following article written by Aubrey Plowman, first appeared in issue 4 of the Stamford Historian in 1980. It grew out of the Stamford Survey Group's project on population changes in Stamford from the middle of the 16th century to the early 19th century. The article describes in vivid terms the greatest plague to hit Stamford during this period. It also provides an interesting example of how parish registers can be used to build up a picture of how the plague developed and spread within the town. Stamford and the Plague 1604 Author’s note: The events set out in the following pages took place in Stamford over 450 years ago and, unpleasant though the subject-matter be, the fact that no previous detailed account of it has been made makes it necessary to record it, in order that another small segment of the town’s history can be fitted into its rightful place. It would have been quite easy to have reduced the article to cold statistics, but I decided against this on the grounds that what happened in the year in question involved people – our ancestors. Further, I have used someone’s ancestor to help me in this attempt to recreate a picture of events of that tragic year of 1604. The months of the year used in this account are based on the modern calendar and not that of the period, hence the references in the history books to 1603 as being the year of the plague. Aubrey R Plowman An entry in the baptism register of the parish church of St Michael’s Stamford, for the year 1579, reads, ‘John Eame was born at St. Leonard’s in the plague time’. A vague statement, but then, at the time it was written, the parish clerk would not assume that further comment was necessary. The reference however is probably to the outbreak of plague that took place in the town four years earlier, in 1575. Many things are said to have plagued man, but perhaps the only true plague was the ‘Black Death’ or bubonic plague. Its origins have never been clearly defined, but at least three pandemics of plague have ravaged vast areas of the world, leaving many millions dead in their wake and causing the social and economic structures of whole continents to collapse. It raged through Britain and Ireland about the fourth century, known then as the ‘Plague of Cadwalader’s time’. The second pandemic was that of the Middle Ages, ‘The Black Death of 1348-50. In the late nineteenth century, it was active again; in India, as many as four million perished. It made an attempt to gain a foothold in this country in the early 1900s but without success, and mercifully claimed only a handful of victims. The plague of the Middle Ages was the largest and most protracted of these pandemics. The disease itself arrived in Britain from France during the summer of 1348. For two years it raged unchecked, leaving towns and villages devastated. In the spring and summer of 1349, it probably carried off about one in three of the population in Stamford. The ‘Black Death’ was at its peak from 1348 to 1349, but it was to be another three hundred years before this country would see itself free of this dreaded disease. In the 150 years before 1665, there were only a dozen years in which London was free of plague. In 1603 30,000 dies in a great outbreak of plague in the capital city, and throughout this period, generation after generation would come to accept the plague as just another burden to contend with in the continual struggle for survival.With man’s ability to adapt himself to living with the constant threat of the plague, it would be reasonable to assume that when, at the beginning of February in the year 1604, a death from plague was reported in Stamford, very few of those who were aware of the fact would be unduly alarmed or concerned at the news. If indeed the townsfolk in general were not too worried about this particular death, this was not quite the attitude taken by the town’s officials. For the plague had already threatened, or even perhaps been present in the town for some months, although this was apparently its first victim. At a meeting of the council members on the second December 1603, it was agreed that a ‘Cabbin should be erected and built where persons infected with the sickness called the ‘Plague’ should be kepte and mayneteyned and that for the charges thereof, the fourthe part of a fifteen should be presently collected and gathered’ (i.e. for the living plague victims). Such action may have been in anticipation of the plague arriving in the town, for it precedes the first recorded plague by at least two months. The cabin can be seen marked on Speed’s map of 1610. One who might have been aware of the circumstances regarding that death was Reginald Waters, doctor and gent’, but although the death took place within his own parish, it is probable that he did not pay a great deal of attention to the matter. Why should he? Although a death caused by the plague was not an every-day event, it certainly wasn’t all that rare. The plague had been claiming victims for as long as he could remember, although there had been nothing serious in the town for some years past. A few deaths had been attributed to the disease in 1581, but not since September 1575 had these been a serious epidemic, and even that outbreak had not been widespread. And in any case, Reginald Waters, no doubt, had far more interesting and important matters to think about. The period 1603-4 came to be very important in the life of Reginald Waters. He, like others of his time, had already experienced his share of calamitous moments. His first wife had dies in 1594; he re-married the following year, but their first-born, Dorothy, lived only for 17 months. However, the past few years had seen things change for the better, and he now had two sons, John and William, aged five and three respectively. He lived a fairly comfortable life, with servants to tend his needs. And now a further momentous event took place; he had been elected Alderman of the town. To hold a position of authority in the town was nothing new to Reginald Waters. He was admitted as a freeman in 1588 and in 1589 was elected to the council, but was dismissed in 1590; he was re-elected in 1598 and remained in office until his elevation to Alderman in this year of 1604. The duties required of an Alderman kept Reginald Waters quite active. The town had lost a lot of its former prestige in the fields of commerce and learning, but had not fallen completely into a backwater. Assistance in preventing this fate came chiefly from the town’s close association with the Cecil family particularly Lord Burghley, Elizabeth’s Lord High Treasurer of England. There were also the town’s connections with the Fens, the use of the river Welland and the Great North Road, all factors that helped in keeping the town alive. And also, there are indications that, since 1595, the population was once more on the increase. So most of Alderman Waters’ day was routine: meetings of civic or charity committees and entertaining of visiting dignitaries. And there was always the hope of more worthy tasks. His predecessor William Salter – now the town clerk – had attended upon King James, passing through the town on his journey from Scotland to London. And so, perhaps, Reginald Waters dreamed of some such memorable juncture. But during that February of 1604 the Alderman and the town went about their day-to-day occupations, and by the end of the month it is more than possible that most had already forgotten the ‘victim’ of the plague that the beginning of the month had brought. In March a very small outbreak of the plague was reported within St George’s parish, resulting in four or five deaths, and although – as the days passed – it gave no indication of spreading, the Alderman put into force the collecting of taxes as agreed by the council at the meeting of December the second 1603. Also at this time, the Council, fearing that prominent people would leave the town ‘because some houses in the town were affected with plague’ and that therefore those who remained would have greater burdens in helping the sick, and that the markets would ‘fail, be defamed, disgraced and foresaken’; and that visitors, seeing houses shut up, would think the plague worse than it was and wouldn’t stop to buy things, agreed to levy fines on those who left the town. But as the month of March continued there was nothing to indicate the plague’s intention to spread. At the beginning of April however, the disease claimed another victim. The Alderman would have been advised. The death took place outside the town wall, at the White Friary. But before many more days had passed. The plague was active once more, this time in St Michael’s parish, on his own doorstep, and as April drew to its end, another eight had fallen prey to the dreaded plague. Alarming as this was, what proved more terrifying was that the disease was on the move and spreading at a disturbing rate. The plague turned into an epidemic with such speed that within a space of four weeks, of the 82 deaths recorded in the parishes of St Michael and St George, at least 75 were recorded as being a result of this scourge. And yet at this time the rest of the town was still virtually free of the pestilence. In order to appreciate the pace at which the plague spread, it would be worth pausing at this stage in order to consider the causes of the plague, the conditions on which it thrived, and the terror associated with it. Writers dealing with the subject argue as to its origins, but all accept the connection between the disease and the black rat. In his book Man against Germs , A L Baron describes the plague as the reluctant germ, in that it was a disease of the black rat, and that it was spread by the parasite, or flea, leaving the cold dead body of the rat in search of warmer conditions, found in man, a suitable substitute. Most of us can conjure up mental pictures of the Black Death of the obscure Middle Ages. The cloaked scurrying figure, the white, suspicious, peering face; one would still have heard the rattle of wooden carts, and seen the awesome mark of the red cross on the doors of plague-infected houses. Only a witness of the day would be able to see the terror in the eyes of those involved, or hear the cries of sufferers. The Black Death had changed its name to the more simple ‘plague’, but nothing else about the disease had altered. Very few of those who suffered at the hands of the plague would know the luxury of medical attention, but most would easily recognise the symptoms: the pallor and shuddering of the afflicted, the ominous blotches on the skin, and the dreadful black boils. From the appearance of the first symptoms until the inevitable death took no longer than five days. Nine out of every ten cases would not expect to survive. What caused the plague was still not known, at this time. Most God fearing people still thought of it as retribution for the evils of the world, as can be seen from the entry written in St George’s register ‘The first that died of the visitation of the sickness of God’. The Elizabethan Prayer Book contained special prayers about plague, saying that it was a judgement from God. Within the first week of June, deaths were being reported from all parts of the town, including St Martin’s. Husbands, wives, sons and daughters, perished as the plague devastated home after home. The household of Robert Thomas lost three sons and two daughters inside of 15 days; the Martin family lost one son and two daughters within two days; and Robert Miller and his son both died within two days. The list is almost endless. By the time the month was ended another 134 burials had been recorded. Throughout this time the authorities were unable to offer any assistance to the inhabitants of the town, and by now Alderman Waters had his own household to attend to. The 12th June saw the plague within his quarters. A servant of the house was down with the sickness, and there was Susan, his wife, to consider; the birth of their fourth child was expected any day. And, despite all his skill and education there was very little he could do but wait and hope. As the hours and days slowly passed, the servant’s condition worsened and by the 17th of the month he was dead, but the rest of the household appear to have escaped the plague’s first attempt to gain a hold. Three days later, his wife gave birth to a son, Perry, and for the time being the Alderman’s personal crisis was over. But not for others of his own class; Mary Wolf of St Mary’s parish buried five of her servants inside of three days. She saw the death of her son William, and, on the last day of June the plague claimed Mary herself, together with another member of her household, Jane Tailor. And there were others Reginald waters would no doubt be acquainted with. Seth Hyman, William Clarke, Robert Ramsden, a former Alderman, all had their own share of grief. By t he time the epidemic reached its peak in July, business activities in the town would have been almost at a standstill. Markets that supplied most of the town’s food requirements would by now have almost ceased to operate, adding further misery to the poorer members of the community and the region around. The mortality rate was very high within the working-class areas of the town. The high density of their buildings together with the overcrowded living conditions made them ideal breeding-grounds for this particular disease. The more-wealthy, with their spacious dwellings and a much higher standard of cleanliness, enjoyed some measure of isolation and therefore better protection from members of their own class. Apart from the high mortality, many more townspeople would have been incapacitated by the plague, creating problems about such employment that was still available; even finding labour for the grim task of disposing of the dead would not have been easy. Further, despite the levy imposed by the council, many a family would have left the town at the outbreak of the plague, some never to return. But perhaps the chief cause behind the town’s chaotic state was the general fear of association. In fact, for most it was a time to keep oneself to oneself. In the meantime, Alderman Waters may have considered himself fortunate. As the days of June passed, the death rate in his own parish began to drop, and there had been no other serious attacks from the plague since before the 17th. But as the month drew to a close, a second servant went sick with the all too obvious symptoms of the disease, the nightmare started all over again: the constant watching and waiting and always, with him, the fear that the plague would seek out those most dear to him. On 1st July the second servant died and, to add to the Alderman’s anxiety, his new born son, Perry, was also in poor health. The 11th of the month saw yet another tragedy, as the family mourned the death of the child [1]. August brought hope to the greater part of the town in the central and eastern sectors. The worst part of the epidemic was over, but not for those living in the parish of All Saints and possibly St Martins. Here the plague was still raging. All Saints recorded 31 deaths in August compared with only four in St George’s parish. But the end was in sight; as the summer waned, so too did the plague, and September saw the town’s mortality rate almost back to pre-1604 levels, and the survivors setting about the task of bringing their town back to sanity and its normal status. Recorded burials for 1604 total 621. Almost 600 of these took place from April to September. Church registers for the year bear witness to the turmoil the town was in. Some of the parish register totals differ from those in the Bishop’s Transcripts. Dates are not always in order, indicating that the clerk at the time made notes elsewhere and entered them into the register at a later date. In the case of St Martin’s there are no dates given for any entry in the burial register for the whole of 1604. This inaccuracy in the individual registers could signify a greater mortality rate than that of the accountable total. The town’s average annual burial rate for the ten year period prior to 1604 was 64, so that at least ten times the average number of deaths is recorded in this year of calamity. A close look at he table of parish totals – shown at the end of this article – reveals a distinct pattern to the movement of the plague. The initial outbreak almost certainly took place along the boundary line of the parishes of St Michael and St George. If this is correct, then a study of the town map of the period may well disclose a likely area, possibly a high density poor area in the vicinity of the present day St George’s Street. From these two parishes, the epidemic then moved into St Mary’s parish and perhaps St Martin’s, followed by St John’s, and finally into All Saints parish. The town in general took almost forty years to recover its population losses, some parishes taking longer than others. St Mary’s recovered its losses in under 35 years, whereas St Michael’s took nearer 60 years. Surprisingly, there were more marriages during the plague year. St Michael’s recorded 14 ceremonies, all taking place between September and December, after the plague had largely died out; compared with an average of only four per year for the three years before, and the three years after the plague year. Most historians of the town have mentioned another major epidemic of plague in or about 1642, with deaths computed in the hundreds. Generally, authors of these works have tended to copy one another. That the plague was active in the town at that time is not disputed. Richard Butcher, Town Clerk and historian – though not in office in 1642 – should have been in a position to verify the fact. But William Harrod writing later, could find no further evidence to substantiate the figures quoted, and concluded that the Civil War had disrupted the keeping of parish registers. It is quite true that some of the parish churches have either no registers or those that do exist are incomplete. But where they were kept, they give no indication of an epidemic on the scale of that of 1604. Finally, what of Alderman Reginald Waters? Well, he survived the plague, as did the rest of his family. Later on, his wife presented him with two daughters, Grace and Elizabeth. He continued as a council member until 1614, but was never made Alderman again. His year of office was memorable, and his name has now gone down in history – but perhaps not quite in the way he would have wished. Footnote [1] There is no firm evidence that Perry Waters died as a result of the plague. Research sources Parish church registers, Bishops Transcripts, Hall Book The totals are for all recorded deaths and not just those of the plague. The totals for St Martin’s are correct, but the lack of dates in the church register made it necessary for me to estimate the monthly totals. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • The Battle for 51 High Street, Stamford | Stamford History

    < Back The Battle for 51 High Street, Stamford By Richard Asher The story of a Listed Building and the battle to save it in the 1960s A talk given for the Stamford Local History Society on 4th Dec 2025. Photograph - Stamford Library The property pictured was 51 High Street Stamford This photograph was probably taken in the 1930s. In the 1960s, it became a battleground between the modernisers and the conservationists, as equally important locally as the famous battle for the Euston Arch was in London. I particularly want to talk about No. 51. That is because for me this is a personal memory. Although I was not involved in the dispute itself (I was still at school at the time), this building is part of the reason I was born in Stamford, my home town, and the town whose history has come to mean so much to me. So, let me explain. My dad, Fred Asher, was born and brought up in the tiny village of Dunsby, the other side of Bourne. When he was 14, he left school and started to work as an office boy for a local business in Bourne called Longstaff and Lyall Ltd. They were auctioneers and land agents. He eventually became an assistant to Thomas R Lyall, one of the directors. Fred Asher auctioning livestock (photo R Asher) After the war, having been in the army, my dad returned to work for Longstaff and Lyall at Bourne. [i] However, in 1947, Thomas Lyall asked him to run the Stamford office. In 1949, my dad married my mum, and they set up home in Stamford. I was born the following year in Stamford Hospital. Longstaff and Lyall occupied 51 High Street as their Stamford office. The Company had been based there since about 1938. Subsequently, my dad became a qualified Auctioneer and a Partner in the business (see left). So, you see, if my dad had not been sent to the Stamford office at 51 High Street, I may never have been born in Stamford. No. 51 was thought to date back to at least the 1600s and had been at different times, a public house (The Windmill), a school, and a private house. John Daffurn’s book “Stamford Assets” recalls that it was one of the buildings acquired by the Newcombe family in the nineteenth century and recounts two unusual deaths that occurred in the building [ii] . This photograph shows the front of the building just before it was demolished. ( Photographs RCHM ) On the back of the building in the pargetting, you can just about make out the shape of a windmill, and next to it a date “1690”. It is not clear if the two images are connected, but in his book “Stamford Pubs and Breweries” Martin Smith speculates that it could have been one of the larger Inns of the town [iii] . Photograph RCHM I remember the building well from the early nineteen sixties. What was it like inside? Well, the photograph below gives some idea of the main office on the ground floor and, yes, that is me aged about 14 in the centre of the photograph. Photograph - R Asher The place was in poor repair and the facilities limited, just one toilet used by all the office staff, who numbered about 7 or 8 people. There was no hot water, and no central heating, with just very ancient gas fires. The only way to wash the tea pot and mugs was to disconnect the gas pipe to the fire in the general office and reconnect it to a gas ring on which to boil the kettle. The same process was repeated, once the mugs had been washed and dried, to make the tea. Only then could the gas fire be re-connected, until the next time tea was required! I also recall being sent to collect a sheet of hardboard from Scholes’ shop at 3 Ironmonger Street. This sheet was to put over the wooden floor in one of the first-floor offices, as the typists had been complaining that their high-heel shoes were getting caught in the holes in the floorboards! In those days I had no idea what a Listed Building was or what it meant. But subsequently I discovered that the building had been subject to a Building Preservation Order and was a Grade II listed building. Around 1963, the owner of 51 High Street was approached, along with the adjoining owners at 46, 47, 48, 49, & 50 High Street and 4, 5, & 6 Maiden Lane, by the Pearl Assurance Company Limited with a view to the Insurance Company acquiring all of the properties on the High Street between the then Co-op Drapery store (now Weird Fish & Magnet Kitchens) and the National Westminster Bank branch, on the corner of Maiden Lane (now Starbucks). Pearl Assurance were a major player in the insurance industry. They were, like all the large insurance companies of the day, heavily into property development as a way of investing for future returns. They had decided that Stamford was ripe for a development of new shops, and particularly a branch of one of the fast-expanding national supermarket chains. In those days, there was no such thing as “out-of-town shopping” or hypermarkets and a 6,000 sq. ft. “in town” supermarket was considered the right size for a town such as Stamford. It should also be remembered that, in those days, Stamford High Street was still a main road. Rear servicing was an important requirement to prevent serious traffic hold ups on the High Street. Thus, the plan was to build a new Tesco supermarket, and 4 new shop units, with offices above. All the shops would be serviced from an access in Maiden Lane. This plan required the demolition of 47 to 51 High Street and 4 to 6 Maiden Lane. The battle lines were drawn. The situation was quite complex. On the conservation front, in favour of retaining the listed buildings (which were 51 High Street and 5 & 6 Maiden Lane) were the relatively newly formed Stamford Civic Society and some of Stamford Borough councillors. On the other hand, others of the Stamford Borough Council members were all for the modernisation of Stamford. The County Council – in those days the Kesteven County Council was also split. The Ministry of Transport, who had a say because the High Street was part of the A16 Stamford to Boston Trunk Road, wanted the development to go ahead because it would allow them to insist on the building line being set back to permit them to almost double the road width at this narrow part of the High Street. The debate went on for over 3 years as to whether the buildings should be demolished. Site meetings were held between Stamford Borough Council, Kesteven County Council, and the developers. Plans were revised and resubmitted. Eventually, it was agreed that all the buildings on the High Street should be demolished (including 51), but on Maiden Lane only No 4. It was decided that 5 & 6 Maiden Lane should be saved from demolition. Also, the new building erected at No 4 Maiden Lane must incorporate the doorway to the Albert Hall (at No. 46 High Street) which was to be taken down and rebuilt in its new position – at the back of No 4 Maiden Lane, where it remains to this day – where few people know it exists – and usually it is hidden by dustbins. The Department of Transport did not fully get its way either. The building line was to be set back, but only by 3 feet, leaving a slight dogleg in the pavement between the new development and the bank (now Starbucks). But, then, in the 1970s, the High Street became a pedestrian precinct anyway! So, the demolition of 51 High Street got underway in the summer of 1966. But that was not the end of the story. During demolition, what was described by the Royal Commission on Historical Monuments as “a painted studwork wall C1600” [iv] was discovered. The photograph shows the wall in situ soon after it was discovered. Photograph RCHM Photograph RCHM Urgent discussions were held, and it was agreed that the wall should be removed for conservation. This photograph (on the left) shows a remarkable painted panel from the wall soon after conservation. The wall is now in the Stamford Museum Store carefully protected by a Perspex screen. The story of its removal and its remarkable journey from Stamford to Lincoln and back to Stamford would provide enough material for another article. Photograph of the wall in the Stamford Museum Store by R Asher Photograph - Richard Asher Also, found “built into the chimney was a limestone panel” [v] . This proved to be the stone in this photograph. The inscription has been translated [vi] as: Ye who enter this house Pray for Blanche wife of Lord Wake Daughter of Henry Earl of Lancaster On whom God have true mercy. It is believed that this was the memorial stone for Lady Blanche Wake, daughter of Henry Plantagenet, 3rd Earl of Lancaster. She was the great grand-daughter of Henry III. It is thought that she was buried in the Greyfriars Church in Stamford in 1380. How the stone found its way to the High Street is not known, but it could have been used as building material after the dissolution of the monasteries in the 1530s. The fully restored stone is now on the north wall of St George’s Church where the above photograph was taken. In conclusion, should 51 High Street have been allowed to be demolished? In my view it should not. Although dilapidated, and in need of substantial modernisation, it could have been repaired and conserved. However, the conservation movement, was not as advanced then as it is now. Whilst the property was a Listed Building, there was no conservation area legislation allowing planners to consider individual buildings in the wider street view context. Historic Buildings could only be considered on their own merits, not as a contribution to the street scene. On the plus side, if the building had not been demolished, we would never have been able to see two magnificent medieval artifacts which we have today – the painted wall and the Wake Memorial. Also, within a year or so of its demolition, Stamford was designated the first Conservation Area in the country under the new Civic Amenities Act – I like to think that this designation as the first Conservation Area was spurred on by the response to the demolition of 51 High Street. My boyhood memories of 51 High Street, helped me to appreciate the historic buildings of Stamford even more. [i] The firm name was changed in the 1950s to just Lyall & Co. [ii] “Stamford Assets a catalogue of Newcombe Family Property”, John Daffurn, Eptex 2024. [iii] “ Stamford Pubs and Breweries ” Martin Smith, Spiegl Press 2006 [iv] The Town of Stamford, A Survey by the Royal Commission on Historical Monument s” HMSO, London 1977 [v] ibid [vi] Taken from “ Grey Friars or White Friars? In search of Stamford’s Friaries”, Linda Ball, Chalybate Books, 2021. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Poem 1806

    < Back An Amusing Apology from a Lincolnshire Newspaper 1806 Whereas I, Benjamin Birch, Of Boston town (and near the church), At Stamford Market, o’er the bowl, Got drunk and slandered neighbour Cole. For which he has --- to my vexation --- By law compelled this declaration: That I, without just cause or reason, Made use of words as base as treason, And therefore do his pardon ask --- A most unpleasant, painful task. But as I own I was to blame, Why dang it! Then I sign my name. By B.Birch Boston January 1806. Source. The Million (a London Magazine) September 2nd 1893 (Saturday) p17/c1, in the Queer, Quaint and Curious Section. A printed version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Royal Writs Addressed to John Buckingham Bishop of Lincoln 1373

    < Back Royal Writs Addressed to John Buckingham Bishop of Lincoln 1373 Submitted by Chris Hunt ROYAL WRITS ADDRESSED TO JOHN BUCKINGHAM BISHOP OF LINCOLN 1373 Mandate to attend parliament to discuss certain difficult and urgent business and for the king’s war expedition overseas, at Westminster on the morrow of the feast of St. Edmund [17 November], with praemunientes clause. [Edward III]. The writ is contained in a mandate of the bishop to the official of the archdeacon of Lincoln ordering him to order the clergy of his archdeaconry to be present in the church of St Mary by the Bridge (ad Pontem), Stamford, on the Monday after the feast of St Leonard the Confessor [7 November] to elect two sufficient proctors to represent the clergy in Parliament, and to certify to the bishop by letter patent what he has done. Liddington October 1373. Source. Royal Writs addressed to John Buckingham Bishop of Lincoln 1363-1398. Lincoln Record Society, LRS Volume 86. 157 [Reg. 9C p.24]. A copy of the book is held in Stamford Library. Note. St Mary by the Bridge is the church that we see today at the top of St Mary’s Hill . The Bishop issued his writ from his palace at Lyddington in Rutland; parts of the building have survived as the former Bede House now owned by English Heritage. The parliament sat in the medieval Palace of Westminster from November 21st to December 10th 1373. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Andy Capp Born Near Stamford in 1956

    < Back Andy Capp Daily Mirror Cartoon Character Born Near Stamford in 1956 By Chris Hunt Although there is some debate as to the actual year that Andy Capp, all be it a cartoon character, was born. What is certain, is that in an interview printed in the TV Times in June 1975, Andy’s creator, Reg Smythe (1917-1998), claimed that he was born in 1956, somewhere on the A1 between Stamford and Grantham. This was before the days of the Stamford By-Pass, so perhaps a blue plaque is needed on the old Great North Road, somewhere within the Borough boundaries. His international reputation has waned over the years; however, Andy Capp still appears in the Daily Mirror and the Sunday Mirror. The British Cartoon Archive claims he has been syndicated into around 1700 newspapers, in 51 countries and translated into 14 languages. He is truly an international character. Chris Hunt December 2025 A Print version is available HERE Previous Next

  • Stamford Historian articles, Stamford Local History Society, United Kingdom

    From 1977 to 1982 the Stamford Survey Group (the forerunner to the Stamford Local History Society) published The Stamford Historian, and a sample of its scholarly articles is included in this section. A detailed list of all of the articles can also be accessed, and the actual articles can be viewed at Stamford Library. STAMFORD HISTORIAN From 1977 to 1982 the Stamford Survey Group (the forerunner to this Society) published The Stamford Historian, and a sample of its scholarly articles can be viewed below. A detailed list of all of the articles can be accessed HERE , and the actual articles can be viewed at Stamford Library. Death by Misadventure: Coroners Inquests 1700-1850 - Part 1 investigating Stamford deaths John Hartley Stamford Historian September 1978 Read Article Death by Misadventure: Coroners Inquests 1700-1850 - Part 2 a list of inquests John Hartley Stamford Historian September 1978 Read Article Queen Eleanor's Cross location of the Stamford cross Ken Coles Stamford Historian February 1980 Read Article St Cuthbert's Fee in Stamford the third manor of Stamford Dr E C Till Stamford Historian February 1982 Read Article Stamford Poor Law Union a history of Stamford's workhouse Dr Stella Henriques Stamford Historian February 1979 Read Article Stamford and the Plague the plague and parish registers Aubrey Plowman Stamford Historian February 1980 Read Article The Cecil's Monopoly of Milling in Stamford 1561-1640 the townspeople, millers and the Cecils Dr D L Thomas Stamford Historian February 1982 Read Article

  • Stamford in the Second World War - 1940: Pillboxes

    < Back Stamford in the Second World War 1940: Pillboxes By John Millard and Mike Sockett A printed copy can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Stamford in 1868 | Stamford History

    < Back Stamford in 1868 Chris Hunt 2018 1868. J.Clapton. Esq; Mayor. February 25th, owing to the failure of his health, the Earl of Derby resigned the premiership, and on the 28th, Mr Disraeli became Prime Minister. In March, the entrance lodge to Burghley High Park, near the race course, was commenced. May 4th, Viscount Ingestre (son of the Earl of Shrewsbury) elected Member of Parliament for Stamford, vice Viscount Cranbourne elevated to the peerage by the death of his father, the Marquis of Salisbury. On the 8th a spirited race was rowed on the river Welland between Stamford Bridge and the Railway Bridge, between the crews of an outrigger and a four-oared gig, and attracted crowds of spectators. The colours were light blue and white. The “light blues” won by a length. On the 23rd June, William Unwin Heygate was elected Member of Parliament, in place of Viscount Ingestre, elevated to the peerage. July 31st, close of the last Parliament elected under the Reform Bill of 1832. August 6th, an Anglo-Saxon cinerary urn was found on the Essendine Railway in the parish of St George. September 18th, a steamer on board which was Lord Burghley, eldest son of the Marquis of Exeter, was wrecked in Queen Charlotte’s Sound, New Zealand. No lives lost. October 14th, about 5.00am, a very destructive fire broke out at Mr Joseph Phillips’ brewery, in Water-street, and was not got under control for some hours, during which time it destroyed the malting-rooms (which contained several hundred quarters of malt) and the ale stores. The damage was very heavy. The town engines were present and also one from Burghley, one from the works of Messrs. Ashby and Jeffery, and Mr Blashfield’s L’Extincteur. On the 17th, a stone coffin, of the Roman period, containing two skeletons and fragments of pottery, a bone pin, &c., was found on the farm of Mrs Gilchrist, between Stamford and Tinwell, about half a mile from Ermine-street. November 11th, the London Gazette contained a proclamation for dissolving the seventh parliament of Queen Victoria. The Second Reform Bill having deprived the borough of Stamford of one of its members, Sir John Hay was on the 16th returned as Stamford’s only representative in Parliament. Mr Andrew Gray, a shipping agent from London, was proposed and seconded; he made a speech and then his candidature was withdrawn. On the 2nd of December, the Disraeli ministry resigned, on the account of the result of the election. Showing a majority of one hundred and twenty-one to the opposition. On the 4th, Mr Gladstone was commanded to form a ministry, which was sworn into office on the 9th. Source:- The Annals of Stamford 1837-1887 by Arthur J. Waterfield printed and published in 1867 by Haynes & Son, 51 High Street, Stamford. Note: - 1868 was the year of parliamentary elections in Stamford. Two by-elections in May and June followed by a General Election in November when the borough returned for the first time just one Member of Parliament. The reduction from two being as a result of the passing of the Representation of the People Act 1867. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • RAF Sites Around Stamford - Part 1

    < Back A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Adam Horsley - Rector of St John the Baptist. A 14th Century Cleric.

    < Back Adam Horsley – Rector of St John the Baptist. A Stamford 14th Century Cleric By Chris Hunt From 1369 to 1385, Adam Horsley was the rector of St John the Baptist Church in Stamford. Not the building we see today, which dates from the middle of the 15 th century, but an earlier structure whose origin is uncertain, on what was the boundary of the original Danish Burh and the post Norman Conquest growth towards the town’s Castle. The patronage of the church had been controlled by the Priory of St Fromonde in Normandy, an alien priory, but it had been appropriated by Edward III, and was therefore in the hands of the Crown when Adam was granted the living in 1369. Danish and Saxon Burh map Adam Horsley was a King’s Clerk, an exchequer clerk, and a controller of the great pipe roll from 1375 to 1382. He was then appointed as foreign apposer of the exchequer from 1382 to 1385, a post that audited sheriffs’ accounts. In 1377 an English clerical poll tax assessment took place and he was described as ‘not resident’, unique in the arch deaneries of Lincoln, Leicester and Stowe. If Adam visited his parish, it was probably only when the Royal Court passed through the town. And although Richard II visited Stamford in 1377, when he held a council of war in the town, there is no evidence that Adam was in attendance. In the 1380s Horsley was in correspondence with an Augustinian canon, Walter Hilton, who was his spiritual counsellor, it seems that Horsley had a troubled conscience. A letter from Walter Hilton titled “ On the Usefulness and Prerogatives of Religion” , addressed to Adam and probably written in 1384, has survived these last six hundred years appearing in print before the Reformation. In the early 1380s, Hilton turned away from the world and became a solitary, as he is described in his earliest extant work, a Latin letter “ On the Image of Sin”. In October 1383 Adam sat in the Westminster Parliament, a tax raising parliament, in the sixth year and already the tenth parliament of the reign of Richard II. When the King had turned sixteen, he became more settled in his own choices, all be it fatal to his reign and ultimately his life. Finally in March 1385 Adam resigned both his living in Stamford and ceased working for the Crown. Shortly after, he entered Beauvale Priory (also known as Beauvale Charterhouse) which was a Carthusian monastery in Nottinghamshire. In 1385, Joan, the Fair Maid of Kent died, she had been the wife of the Black Prince and was mother of Richard II, and was buried in Stamford, however, by the time of her death Adam was no longer the Rector of St John’s. Although the date of Adam’s death has not survived these last six hundred years, it seems that this occurred within a few years of him entering the monastery. Chris Hunt January 2023 Notes. An apposer is an archaic term for an examiner or a person who asks questions , historically referring to an officer in the English Court of Exchequer who audited sheriffs’ accounts. It describes someone whose specific duty was to put questions to test knowledge. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Obituary and Records - July 1810

    < Back Obituary and Records – July 1810 At Stamford, died, aged 70, George Bindby. He was a very eccentric character, and dealt in toys, oranges, &c., with which he attended the neighbouring markets and fairs. The room in which he slept was so filled with goods, that he was obliged to climb over them in order to get into bed, which was situated within half a yard of a window that had scarcely a whole pane of glass in it. His family had received relief from All Saints parish, he always pleaded poverty, and giving them to understand that if they relied on him for any assistance they must starve; notwithstanding which he died possessed of property to the amount (it was supposed) of £1000, which he bequeathed, the day he died, to a person in no way related to him. At a sale of his effects, there was a turn-out of very many curious articles of every description, such as old knives, buckles, spurs, pistols, &c., which would at the present day produce much competition among antiquaries. Source: Obituary and Records for the Counties of Lincoln, Rutland & Northampton by Justin Simpson, page 99. Printed by William R Newcomb, Stamford 1861. Submitted by Ronnie Teasdale. Note: £1,000 pound sterling was worth £46,525.20 in 2017 according to The National Archives website. In 1810 this would buy: 95 horses; 200 cows; 111 stones of wool; 175 quarters of wheat; and 6,666 days wages for a skilled tradesman. They go on to state - The result of this calculation is intended to be a general guide to historical values, rather than a categorical statement of fact. The Bank of England website gives a November 2025 value of £68,497.34, based on £1,000 in 1810. A print version of this can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

  • Queen Eleanor's Cross

    location of the Stamford cross < Back Queen Eleanor’s Cross Ken Coles 1980 This article was produced by Ken Coles for the February 1980 edition of the Stamford Historian. In it he explores the evidence for the location of Stamford's Eleanor Cross. Queen Eleanor’s Cross Queen Eleanor’s Cross. Where exactly did this immense cross stand? This question has been circulating around Stamford for many years now, and every so often pops up again. Although this has probably been done many times before, I have with the aid of notes by Laurence Tebbut, John Chandler and Michael Key, tried to answer the question, putting together the majority of the information the Survey Group has on the subject. Why a Cross? Eleanor of Castile, Queen of England and wife of Edward I, died on 28th November 1290 at Harby in Nottinghamshire. Edward decided that she was to be buried in Westminster Abbey, so her body was taken to Lincoln and there embalmed ready for the journey south. A solemn procession for London, by a long and circuitous route, set out on December 4th accompanied by the king himself. Halts for the night were made at approximately every 20 miles, at Grantham, Stamford, Geddington, Northampton, Stony Stratford, Woburn, Dunstable,St Albans, Waltham Abbey, West Cheam and Charing Cross, eventually reaching Westminster Abbey where the funeral took place three days later, on 17th December. In the following two years Edward had crosses erected in memory of Queen Eleanor in each of the resting-places above. Of these three still remain today at Geddington, Northampton and Waltham. Early evidence whilst the cross was still standing Stamford’s cross stood for approximately 350 years, and to confirm this we have two eye-witnesses. The first was Captain Richard Symonds of the Royalist army, who visited Stamford briefly on his way from Newark to Huntingdon on Saturday August 22nd 1645. He wrote the following in his diary, ‘In the hill before ye into the towne stands a lofty large cross, built by Edward I in memory of Eleanor whose corps rested there coming from the north. Upon the top of this cross these three shields shields are often carved: England; three bends sinister; a bordure (Ponthieu); Quarterly Castile and Leon’ The second eye-witness is Richard Butcher, Town Clerk. In his survey of Stamford of 1646 he says the following: ‘Near unto the York highway and about twelve score paces from the town gate which is called Clement Gate, stands an ancient crosse of freestone of very considerable fabric, having many ancient scrutcheons or arms insculped in the stone about it as the arms of Castille and Leon quartered being the paternal coat of the King of Spain and divers other hatchments belonging to that crown which envious time hath so defaced that only the ruins appear to my eye and therefore not to be described by my pen’ There is one other earlier reference to a cross, and that is in the Town Records of November 30th 1621: ‘..... the hall also agreed that the fate of the Kings Crosse shall be forthwith amended by a sufficient workman’ Although to judge by Butcher’s later description the ‘workman’ did not do a very good job. Peck’s Annals (p.17) show that the cross was destroyed between 1646 and 1660, probably by Parliamentarian ‘fanatics’. Later Evidence On January 16th 1745 William Stukeley wrote to a fellow antiquarian: ‘Our surveyor of the turnpike road opened up a tumulus half a mile north of Stamford on the brow of a hill by the roadside and there discovered the foundations of the Queen’s Cross, the lower most tier of the steps in tact and part of the second, tis of Barnack stone, hexagonal, the measure of each side thirteen feet so the diameter was thirty f eet. It s tood on a grassy heath called by the towns people Queens Cross’. In another letter dated 21st December 1754 he wrote that Mr Wying surveyor of the turnpike, was opening a quarry on the left hand side of the road from Stamford to Great Casterton and that he took away a carved stone from part of the pinnacle and other pieces which he put in his Barnhill garden. He says the cross ‘stood on a delicate eminence called Anemone Hill’. He also wrote to the Mercury quite soon after this, on December 26th 1745, reporting the discovery of the remains of a cross ‘on a grassy cliff on the left hand from Stamford to Brigcasterton’. A question raised here is whether Queen’s Cross heath and Anemone Hill are the same place, or was the ‘carved stone’ found away from the foundation (steps)? Towards the end of the 19th century when the Torkington Estate was divided up for building purposes (i.e. Torkington Street, Reform Street) one plot was called Blue Anemone Hill. There is one other interesting paragraph in the Peterborough and Huntingdon Standard of 10th October 1847 describing: ‘A stone effigy built into a wall in St Martins that of a female of the time of Edward I or II. The head is detached, the hands across the breast are mutilated and the feet are gone’. If the Stamford cross resembled the cross at Geddington then the above description could very well be part of the cross, as the Geddington one has three sculptures of the queen on it. Modern Evidence There is not a lot of evidence from the modern period, but in 1973 a section of Barnack stone was found in the Foxdale area of Stamford. Mr H W Pond found the stone in a dry stone wall and Mr R F Grimwood of the local History Society had it removed to St Leonard’s Priory for storage and safekeeping, where it still remains. It is described as weighing 2 cwts., and is eight inches square, thirty inches high with rounded edges. Part is carved with chevrons. This was thought to have been part of the cross. The Foxdale area is one mile out of Stamford and this seems too far if we take Butcher’s ‘twelve score paces from Clement Gate’ and Stukeley’s ‘half a mile’, although this does not rule out the stone as being part of the cross as it could easily have been moved to that position. On walking Butcher’s twelve score paces from Clements Gate (the Stamford side of Scotgate traffic lights) I arrived behind Clock House on the Casterton Road and adjacent to the front garden of Rock Lodge House. Now, before this article was suggested an acquaintance had said that I should look at the ‘ancient stonework’ in Rock Lodge gardens, so permission was given by the owners, to look around the garden and, true enough, built into the walls at certain places were pieces of old masonry. After tracing some previous owners, no information was gained as to the origins of these remains. A suggestion is that they may have been excavated whilst the gardens were being landscaped and probably could have come from the old church of St Thomas, which is alleged (without any evidence at all) to have stood near this spot. The Survey Group would be happy to receive any other information on these. To end, I would like to think that a few of these pieces came from the cross itself, as Rock Lodge stands ‘twelve score paces’ on the left hand side of Casterton Road and on the first ‘cliff face’. With its commanding views toward Stamford, what more suitable spot could be found for such a monument, at the entrance to the town where the Oakham and North roads meet? Bibliography R Butcher, Survey and Antiquities of the town of Stamford , 1646 F Peck, The Antiquarian Annals of Stamford , 1727 The Stamford Mercury The Peterborough and Huntingdon Standard This article by Ken Coles is reprinted from the issue 4 of the Stamford Historian published in February 1980 Addendum The above article was written in 1980, but 13 years later a fragment of Purbeck marble with a rose carved on one of its surfaces was found in the garden of Stukeley House, 9 Barn Hill, Stamford, the home in the 1740s of noted antiquary, William Stukeley. The appearance of this fragment accorded with a description of the upper shaft of the Stamford Eleanor Cross Stukeley claimed to have found in December 1745 on Anemone Hill (upper Casterton Road). Further research confirmed the fragment to be part of Stukeley’s find and that he had almost certainly discovered the site of the Stamford Eleanor Cross. This discovery places the Stamford Eleanor Cross in the Foxdale area of Casterton Road, map reference TF01910758 +/- 20 m. and not at the junction of Empingham and Casterton Roads as previously thought.The essence of the case for revision was published in the correspondence columns of the Stamford Mercury, 28 September 2007, p.13, and can also be found on the Mercury website at http://www.stamfordmercury.co.uk/news/opinion/letters/overwhelming-evidence-on-site-of-eleanor-cross-1-486463 . A full account of the discovery can be found in John F H Smith, ‘A Fragment of the Stamford Eleanor Cross’ published vol. 94 of the Antiquaries Journal, 1994, pp. 301-311. In September 2013 a further article on Stukeley, ‘William Stukeley in Stamford: his houses, gardens and a project for a Palladian Triumphal Arch Over Barn Hill’ by J F H Smith was published in the Antiquaries Journal (vol. 93, pp. 353-400). This lists (footnote 53) all the references in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, to Stukeley’s claimed find of the Cross. These are: Bodleian Library, Oxford, Eng. misc. c. 538, fols 41–41v; Eng. misc. e. 126, fols 91–98; Eng. misc. e. 196, fols 51 and 111–112. In addition a drawing entitled ‘The groundplot of Queens Cross, Stamford’ (Eng. misc. e. 126. fol.18) shows that what Stukeley found was hexagonal in plan, not octagonal as suggested by Smith (1994)John F H Smith8 January 2014 A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

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