< Back The Stamford Terracotta Company (Blashfield’s) Nicholas J Sheehan 2023 In 1858, John Marriott Blashfield (1811-1882) transferred his terracotta manufacturing business from London to Stamford in order to exploit the local Jurassic clays which were particularly suitable for terracotta production. Blashfield took over the site of the former Grant’s Iron Foundry on Wharf Road (Fig. 1), [1] which was considerably larger than his London premises and whose position adjacent to the River Welland was convenient for bringing clay in and shipping terracotta out. The site included a 100-foot-long showroom along its north edge. Fig.1 Gate Arch to Blashfield’s works The business was re-named The Stamford Terracotta Company and the new works were officially opened on 14 March 1859. The lighting of the first kiln was attended by the Marchioness of Exeter and her family and a bust of Queen Victoria fired to mark the occasion was presented to the monarch the following day. A detailed review of the Blashfield’s company and the wider history of the terracotta industry was published in the Stamford Mercury on 18th Feb 1859. [2] Most of the clay that Blashfield’s used was from brickyards in the vicinity of Stamford, principally the Earl of Lindsey’s estate at Uffington, the Marquis of Exeter’s pit at Wakerley and Mr John Lumby’s field in Stamford, with much of the rest being sourced from further afield at Poole and Devon. [3] In 1858, Mr Blyth of Uffington advertised his field of red clay as being fit for the manufacture of moulded and plain bricks, paving tiles, ridge coping, ornamental and plain flower pots, vases, chimney shafts and pots. Blashfield’s range of products far exceeded this, its wares ranging from utilitarian items such as bricks (Fig.2), tiles and chimney pots to architectural dressings, classical ornaments, statues and other sculpted figures. Fig.2 A Blashfield brick (Old Frechevillian’s Brick Collection) Taking inspiration from artists and architects, Blashfield employed highly skilled sculptors and craftsmen to produce his ware. In addition, he collected hundreds of casts of both classical and contemporary work. While he may have been influenced by the designs of the Coadestone factory, it is inconclusive whether he bought any of its moulds after it ceased production in the early 1840s. His clay recipes which contained a complex blend of ingredients typified his scientific approach to terracotta production. By 1861 the company was employing 46 men and 13 boys. The business prospered and Blashfield designs won medals at the 1862 and 1867 Paris Exhibitions (Fig.3). Fig.3 Advertisement for Blashfield's Terracotta With the introduction of new models, the range of products had increased to over 1400 items by 1870, fired in four kilns. Blashfield’s published illustrations of its merchandise in a series of trade catalogues (Fig. 4). It became a limited company in 1872. Fig.4 Trade catalogues (Internet Archive Free Download) Blashfield’s wares were widely sold throughout England and overseas and his architectural and garden ornaments found their way into many country houses, including those at Burghley and Uffington. An allegorical figure of Literature (Fig.5) is on view at Burghley House and four large terracotta urns commissioned by the Marquis of Exeter form the centrepieces of the fountains in the South Gardens (Fig.6). The boathouse at the eastern end of the lake was also built by Blashfield’s. Fig.5 Allegorical figure of Literature (Burghley Collections. Ref EWA08621) Fig.6 Terracotta urn in Burghley’s South Gardens (Burghley House website) The whereabouts of most of the works of art and garden ornaments manufactured for the Earl of Lindsey from his own clay are unknown but Blashfield urns, probably based on a Coade design, still adorn the imposing gate piers (Fig.7) of his Uffington mansion which burnt down in 1904. Fig.7 One of a pair of Blashfield terracotta urns on the gateway to the lost Uffington House Blashfield’s products were used for both structural and decorative purposes in many properties in Stamford town but few examples remain. The most notable building is the grade-II- listed, former Scotgate Inn with its red terracotta facade (Fig.8(a)). 4 Another example is a shop at 30 High Street whose 1873 frontage contains five red terracotta panels amongst its detailing (Fig. 8(b)). Fig.8 (a) Former Scotgate Inn at 5 Scotgate, and (b) 30 High Street Despite its early successes and its strong international reputation, a combination of poor business practices, misfortune and competition from cheaper mass-produced terracotta. drove the company into voluntary liquidation. The Blashfield’s works closed in 1875 and its plant and stock were auctioned off. Blashfield died on 15 December 1882 after a short illness. The site of his factory on Wharf Road is now occupied by a residential development completed in 2007. Notes [1] In 1937 the arch was rebuilt several feet to the south and parallel with the road [2] ‘Art Manufactory in Lincolnshire. Terra Cotta Works at Stamford.’ The Lincolnshire, Rutland and Stamford Mercury. Friday, February 18, 1859, p.3 [3] Blashfield's was not the only terracotta manufacturer in Stamford. Henry Lumby had a production site in St Martin's in 1868 and 1872 and in 1863 Charles Joseph Whitton had a works in London Road. [4] Earlier used as a depot for P & R Phipps and now in commercial use. Bibliography ‘John Marriott Blashfield’. Mapping the Practice and Profession of Sculpture in Britain and Ireland 1851-1951. University of Glasgow History of Art and HATII, online database 2011 http://sculpture.gla.ac.uk/view/person.php?id=ann_1263577621 HeritageGateway Lincolnshire HER. Blashfield Terracotta Factory, Wharf Road, Stamford. HER Number MLI30744 'Sectional Preface: Building Materials and Construction', in An Inventory of the Historical Monuments in the Town of Stamford (London, 1977), pp. lxiv-lxix. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/rchme/stamford/lxiv-lxix The Gardens Trust. ‘Artificial Stone 4: Post-Coade potteries.’ https://thegardenstrust.blog/2016/08/13/artificial-stone-4-post-coade-potteries/ A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Stamford. Elizabeth Pulley. Murder Most Foul Chris Hunt 2022 On March 16th 1860 there occurred in High Street, St Martins, a murder most foul when Elizabeth Pulley, ‘spinster of that parish’ was murdered in her own home and valuables stolen by a near neighbour, Henry Corby. Although first thought to be an unfortunate accident. Having failed to cover-up his crime by attempting to burn the body of the deceased, but when evidence was found that pointed towards his involvement and the body exhumed he was arrested and charged with her murder. Before he was committed to trial he took his own life in Stamford Gaol. This crime was not just of local interest, articles reporting the case appeared in local, regional and national newspapers. The Victorians loved to read about gruesome murders. The last public hanging did not place till eight years later. There must have been some who were disappointed that Henry Corby took his own life, which ironically he did by hanging in his prison cell. Printed broadside ballads were a common sight being sold on the streets, on market days and at fairs. They were quickly printed on cheap paper whenever publishers saw a profit. The murder of Elizabeth Pulley was just such an opportunity as can be seen from the following transcribed document which was printed by Taylor, Printer, Brick Lane, Bethnal Green (London). Although undated the original dates from 1860. Although we can read it from a moral viewpoint, it could be suggested that it falls into a ballad sub-genre best described as Gallows Literature. THE LAMENTATION OF Mrs. ELIZABETH PULLEY Who was Murdered, Robbed, and Burnt at Stamford _______________________________________ The cruelest murder e’re was pen’d, Has in that place been found. Elizabeth Pulley, a lady was, To the poor was good and kind, Who was robbed & murdered by a wretch To a cinder burnt we find. The gold rings from her finger, The murderer took away, The writing-desk and a bank-note, With a hundred pounds they say. The silver-plate and other things, Both gold and silver coin, He took from Lady Pulley, Who was so good and kind. The white-locks from off her head, The murderer he must tear, For amongst burnt clothing and other things, Was found much human hair. The carpenter that did her work, Henry Corby, was his name. And for that horrid murder They took him for the same. He must have had a heart of stone, To do that dreadful deed, For of all the murders that ere was done, This is the worst, indeed. To a cinder burnt the lady, Oh, what a cruel one; In the ashes was found her tooth, Likewise her finger bone. Oh, the deed was laid to Corby, A carpenter by trade; And since the murder has been done, He many a debt has paid. Two young men that was in his shop, On a shelf, they by chance did see, The writing-desk and the gold rings, Which belonged to Mrs Pulley. For Elizabeth and Thomas Pulley, On the gold rings were their names, Which those young men saw in the shop And to the police they told the same. For murder they took Corby, And charged him with the crime, And remanded he has been At Stamford different times. Upon the nineteenth day of April, Just at the break of day, Fast to a bar of the window, Corby hung himself, they say. And those that read these verses, Cannot help to shed a tear, For on a slate he had wrote these words, Unto his wife and children dear. From public-houses, my dear boy, I pray you keep away, And try to assist your mother, Much as in your power lay. Do try to help one another, Through this wide world of care, Farewell to you, my loving wife, Adieu my children, dear. Taylor, Printer, 93, Brick Lane, Bethnal Green A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Stamford Library Rules and Regulations 1906 By Chris Hunt Stamford Free Library was formally opened on January 25 th 1906 by the Lord-Lieutenant of Lincolnshire, Adelbert Brownlow-Cust, 3 rd Earl Brownlow; also present on the day were other members of the local aristocracy and their wives, the Mayor, Mr George Higgs; members of the Council, their Officials, and members of the public. Although at first there was some opposition on the Borough Council to a Public Library in the town, the actions of Major Henry Hart swayed its members along with the gift of £2,500 from Mr Andrew Carnegie, the Scottish-American industrialist and philanthropist. The Library was funded by the Borough Council providing the site, a small addition to the town rates, and by public donations, after which borrowing was free to those on the Borough Burgess Roll. The rules and regulations that established Free Libraries were governed by Acts of Parliament. The most different ones to us here in the 21 st century are the punishments laid down in statute, which are repeated in the Rules and Regulations which were drawn up by the town’s Library Committee in August 1905. Which are: - “Whosoever shall unlawfully and maliciously destroy or damage any Book, Manuscript, Picture, Print, Statue, Bust, or Vase, or any other article or thing kept for the purposes of Art, Science, or Literature, or as an object of Curiosity in any Museum, Gallery, Cabinet, Library, or other repository, which is either at all times or from time to time open for admission of the Public, shall be guilty of a misdemeanour, and being convicted thereof, shall be liable to be imprisoned for any term not exceeding six months, with or without hard labour, and if a male under the age of sixteen years, with or without whipping” And that:- “Any person who in any Library or Reading Room to which this Act applies (Libraries Offences Act 1898), to the annoyance or disturbance of any person using the same: - (1) behaves in a disorderly manner: (2) uses violent, abusive, or obscene language: (3) bets or gambles: (4) or who, after proper warning, persists in remaining therein beyond the hours fixed for the closing of such Library or Reading Room. “shall be liable on summary conviction to a penalty not exceeding forty shillings.” Chris Hunt January 2026 Notes The opening days of the week and times vary between the Reading Room and the Free Lending Library. The following document is r eproduced by kind permission of Lincolnshire Libraries. The original was printed by Dolby Brothers in 1907, and is part of the local studies reference collection at Stamford Library, www.better.org.uk/library/lincolnshire/stamford-library Page 5 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Radcliffe and Browne's School, Stamford - Prize Volume Chris Hunt 2021 With the reorganisation of the School in the early 1870’s the Governors began to provide a number of prizes for both academic and non-academic achievement in the form of specially bound hardback books. Over the years the binding changed from special calf bound boards to normal publisher’s cloth with a school/town crest in gold tooling on the front outer board. The ones issued by the Boy’s School in the last quarter of the nineteenth century have the Borough seal on the front cover with the words ‘Schola Stamfordiensis’ underneath, and inside the front cover the prize label with the name of the recipient, details of the prize, and the signature of the Headmaster. These sort of school-prize books rarely carry binder’s stamp and those issued by the School are no different. However, a recently discovered volume awarded to Cecil William Thorpe at the Midsummer Examination in 1890 (Drawing Prize) has ‘bound by Bickers’ in pencil written on the front flyleaf. Other known similar volumes from before World War One are almost certainly bound by Bickers’ including one awarded at the Girl’s School. Bickers & Son were booksellers and bookbinders at No 1 Leicester Square, London. As to Cecil William Thorpe, he was aged 13, and lived with his grandmother at 51 High Street, St Martins when the Census Enumerator called in 1891. By 1911 Cecil was living at 42 Spilsby Road, Skirbeck, Boston and is recorded in the census as being a Bank Clerk. He later served and survived World War One in the Army Service Corp. And the volume he chose was; ‘Frondes Agrestes, Readings in Modern Painters’, a ninth edition published in 1889. A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back Regulations For Brewers in Fetching Water in 1666 By Chris Hunt It is ordered that noe comon bruer or victualler whatsoever inhabiting within this corporation shall fetch or cause to be fetched any water from St Michael’s conduit, the Leaden conduit, or from ye pump standing in ye parish of S John’s, for brewing, or for any other occasion whatsoever, but betwixt ye hours of 5 of ye clocke in ye morning and seven of ye clocke in ye afternoon upon pain to fforfeit for every tubb of water soe fetched before or after ye sayd houres ye some of four pence. April 26th 1666. Source Stamford Mercury Friday November 21st 1873 p4 Hall Book 2A/1/2 Note. The spelling has not been modernised. A printed version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

< Back LULU and the LUVVERS play the LANSBURY CLUB in STAMFORD on JULY 18th 1964 On the evening of Saturday July 18 th 1964 Lulu and her backing group the Luvvers played the Lansbury Club (later the Newage Club) on Wharf Road in Stamford. Very much described as a Glasgow band fronted by the sixteen-year-old Scottish singer Lulu, they took Stamford by storm. It was one of the largest crowds every witnessed at the Club with fans flocking to the town from miles around. One party of fans even went to the trouble of hiring a bus from Grantham. Hot from the success of the hit single, Shout, Lulu sang a full one-hour set, managing even to stop the dancing. Probably the club was too packed for people to move. She was described as having a sparkling personality, along with a chirpy little voice, and was wearing beige tight-fitting knickerbockers and a similar coloured top. All in all, it was a great night. Especially for Charles (Chas) Thompson, the doorkeeper, when Lulu sang Shout again as a special birthday treat. Lulu without tight-fitting knickerbockers and a similar coloured top Chris Hunt September 2025 A print version can be downloaded HERE Previous Next

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

< 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

< 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

< 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

< 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

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