For Refugee Week, we take a look at the Book of Orders for Dutch and Walloon Strangers (NRO, NCR 17d/9). This is a document containing orders for the regulation of the Strangers’ Hall in Norwich and for ordering the life and business of the Dutch and Walloon Strangers, as recorded in signed minutes of a committee for regulating the city’s relationship with the Strangers community.
In 1556 the Mayor of Norwich, Thomas Sotherton, with permission of Queen Elizabeth I, invited thirty Flemish families to Norwich, in the hope that they would be able to halt the decline in the city’s weaving industry. The first thirty families were being persecuted for their Protestant religion within their home country and so readily accepted the offer. They worked on improving the weaving industry using new techniques and providing a form of quality control. Very soon, these refugees became known as the ‘strangers’. By 1579, 6,000 ‘strangers’ lived amidst the city’s population of about 16,000.
The Book of Orders demonstrates how they set about improving the standard of weaving in Norwich. Describing the stages of cloth manufacture, quality of yarn and technical expertise, instructions for dying and quality control, checking for the correct width, length and breadth- once the cloth passed these stages it was sealed with a lead cloth seal and sold. In 1575 council issued a statement saying the city was prospering and it was down to the strangers work.
Strangers also introduced to Norwich introduced rare spices, dried fruits, and canaries. New words also came to the city, e.g. Norwich has Plains rather than Squares, such as St Martin at Plain.
Jarrold’s department store in Norwich had to adhere to the 1940 Fire Watchers Orders by having firewatchers on duty at all times. This log begins in August 1940 and ends in May 1941 (JLD 4/10/16). It records the duties and activities of the Jarrold’s firewatchers who who were part of a city-wide system of supervising the city. There were four watches a day until 1941. The date of the watch generally starting at 6pm the previous evening, the second watch at 10pm then 7am to 1pm and 1pm-6pm.
A Firewatching Fraternity
This log is more about the men than the war itself. Three key characteristics are evident; comradeship, dedication and humour alongside a fair helping of boredom and grumpiness. Some had witnessed the First World War while others were waiting to be called up.
The log records 63 men in total. The 1939 census and Jarrold’s staff records (JLD 2/4/4) identify some. Those of particular note are:
Barker. Barker’s name appears on almost every watch and is clearly held in high esteem. Who was Barker?
Frank Englebright. Stationer’s assistant.
Harry Gaze. Manager at the store and ARP Warden 677. He died in December 1942. Was this as the result of the war?
David Grant. Store manager and ARP Warden. The log refers to him as the Director.
Walter Ringer. Stores dispatch manager.
Jack Trudgill. A fancy goods buyer.
Sydney Vyse. Departmental manager of the china and glass department.
Gordon Wasley. Manager in the book department. Source of much humour in the log.
Austin Youngman. Stationery packer. Expert rat catcher!
Food and Drink
In times of crisis comfort can be found in food and drink and this was certainly the case for the firewatchers.
Jarrold’s had an account with the local milkman – or so the men thought. When it was Wasley’s turn to collect the milk: G R W wondering why he had to fork out 4d for milk. Always understood firm’s credit was good until this morning.
This led to the following comment:
The Milk Crisis
Two weeks later the milkman arrives to be paid. Mr Futter fourpence lighter. Remarks of previous contributor concerning our credit still very much justified.
A week later tempers are frayed on both sides: Read forced to give 8 terrific blasts on the bell and 80 terrific blasts when held up by our now hysterical milkman. If these notes should come to the notice of the management the writer has joined the noble ranks of milk victims.
Tea was an important part of any watch. On the first night: prepared to brew some tea no sugar. Made an extensive search but found none . . . procured a small phial of sacarin (sic) from chemistry (department). . . . Good cup (of tea) spoon stood very upright in the cup. What about a tea cosy for the canteen tea-pot? Will Alice knit one? Or do we have to continue using our vests?
Patfield (nickname chef) and Russell were particularly popular for their culinary skills. One November watch Russell made supper: It consisted of fried spuds and sprouts, meat pie, apple tart, bread and cheese, mutton sandwiches and cake washed down with copious draughts of real old Ceylon. PS There are no vacancies in this night gang.
Whiling Away the Hours
Nothing happening was obviously a good thing but meant there were long hours to fill between the routine patrols.
A radio was provided to alleviate the boredom. In September: Advent of Ferguson Radio Set. . . . Had a good laugh when Lord Haw Haw told us how inferior our Spitfires were to their Messerschmitts . . . . Suggest radio is changed for at least a mediocre set. This one sounds like frying bacon – horrible in the extreme. . . . One word to purchaser of set. Sir you’re a rotten judge of horseflesh!
The Ferguson set was quickly replaced with a Decca which was well received but did not last long either.
Gramophone recitals were also organized. Never realized how much like an air raid warning Deanna Durbin’s voice was before tonight. Made so much row that “O2” contacted us. Sorry Mr Pitchford. . . . . Gramophone concert. Mr Elliott brought his straw skirt out. Fireplace collapsed.
The men also played a variety of games. In October Wasley challenged Read to a competition of draughts, tiddledywinks , ludo or darts. Read responds: Will take up challenge subject to Mr Grant putting us on together one night . . all excepting ludo as this is out of my class, but common no doubt to St William’s Way as on the outskirts of the city they have more facilities for this strenuous pastime.
Playing Chess
The men engaged in various other pastimes including poetry and rug making. Barker and Trudgill were often on duty together. Trudgill liked to draw cartoons and: Remarked to Mr Barker (complete with steel helmet) his amazing resemblance to “Old Bill”.
Trudgill’s cartoon of Barker
Ringer’s poem about Wasley
Find out more about the Jarrold’s Firewatchers in Part 2, coming soon!
The changing face of Norfolk agriculture in the late 20th century saw the merger of smaller farms to much larger holdings, prompted by mechanisation and the need for bigger fields able to accommodate modern large-scale machinery. By this time traditional threshing barns had largely become redundant with the widespread use of initially steam-powered threshing machines, and by the 1950s combine harvesters. As a result many farm buildings became redundant, and across Norfolk barns were sold off and converted into often large and imposing domestic premises. But as the will of Thomas Norffolke, [1] husbandman [2] of Hempstead cum Eccles Norfolk shows, the idea was by no means new, albeit somewhat unusual for the last decade of the 16th century.
Written by Christine Shackell, NRO Research Blogger
The Murder
On Saturday 11 October 1817, Robert Baker, a fifty-eight year old glover and breeches maker, left his home in Wells next the Sea, on the North Norfolk coast to collect debts owed to him. Donning his hat and coat against the autumn chill, he tucked his red leather wallet with its silver clasp into his pocket and bade farewell to his wife, saying he would return mid afternoon for a meal of hot steak pie. But he never returned.
It’s become a historical trope, not to mention a clever marketing ploy, to use forgotten in book, article, blog and documentary titles, whether actually warranted or not (Google ‘forgotten history’). It’s catchy, pithy, and excites curiosity. In the case of Ralph Hale Mottram (1883-1971), one time Lord Mayor of Norwich, it’s actually deserved.
Even the First World War centenary was not enough to generate a buzz. No biography. No new editions of his wartime books. No conference in his name. Nope, nothing, other than a blog here, a laudatory newspaper piece there,[1] not a peep. Indeed if a quizzical look appears on your face; if your lips silently enunciate Ralph-Hale-Mot-tram under your breath, ‘Yes, I’ve heard that name before – but where?’; you’re surely in good company.
An employee of Gurney’s Bank (Barclays, from 1895), where several generations of Mottrams had made a living, young Ralph dabbled in poetry in the pre-1914 era. A bachelor, privately educated, fluently French (his mother insisted on schooling and vacations on the continent), and a congregant of the progressive Unitarian Octagon Chapel, Mottram was a fairly typical Kitchener volunteer, trading a reasonably comfortable existence for khaki in 1914.
Norfolk Archives and Heritage Development Foundation (NORAH) trustee David Stannard discusses the acquisition by the Norfolk Record Office (NRO) of a single manuscript folio, which must have been removed from a set of 16th century churchwardens’ accounts of the parish of Dickleburgh, Norfolk. Initially this manuscript presented queries concerning the origin and date of the document as a result of a poor transcription in the 19th – early 20th century. However, resolving these anomalies only led to a more fundamental, as yet unresolved conundrum.
Introduction
A manuscript offered on an American online auction site in the summer of 2020 claimed that the document originated from Depybrough Abbey and was dated as 1567. Unfortunately, research from historical and on-line sources for Depybrough Abbey could not confirm the existence of any such institution.
A close examination of the document by Professor Carole Rawcliffe of the University of East Anglia revealed that the manuscript comprised a single page which must have been removed from a set of churchwardens’ accounts of All Saints’ church in Dickleburgh, Norfolk. The parish name is rendered as ‘Dekylburghe’ in the original manuscript. Professor Rawcliffe’s transcription also confirmed the date of the start of the document as March 1545, and on this basis the trustees of the NORAH approved a grant for the NRO to successfully purchase the document in September 2020.
The 16th of August 1819 saw what has become known as the “Peterloo Massacre” (Wroe, 1819) at St Peter’s Field, Manchester where between nine and fifteen men, women and children were killed and hundreds of people were injured.
The Events
Over 60,000 people had gathered at a mass rally, organised by radical reformers, where they were addressed by a well-known radical orator, Henry Hunt. The Manchester & Salford Yeomanry tried to arrest Hunt and, in the process, charged the crowd knocking down a woman and killing a child. William Hulton, the chairman of the Cheshire Magistrates summoned the 15th Hussars to disperse the crowd who were charged at, sabres drawn, where the fatalities and injuries ensued.
In 2018, a two-part article was published on this blog (part 1 here, part 2 here) challenging the parentage of Charles E. Boles aka ‘Black Bart’ an infamous US outlaw, who committed some 28 holdups of Wells Fargo stagecoaches in California between 1875 and 1883. Charles is reported to have been born in Norfolk, England, to John and Maria Bowles, and his family emigrated to Alexandria, Jefferson County, New York, in 1830, when Charles was a baby.
Most accounts of Charles’ life state that his parents were John Bowles and Maria Leggett of Great Yarmouth, Norfolk. However, in part 2 of the article, it was pointed out that children born to the Great Yarmouth couple did not fit with the children named in John Bowles’ will, proved in the US, in 1872 (New York, Surrogate’s Court, Jefferson County, Minutes, Vol I-J, 1868-1873, p. 312, John Bowles, 12 October 1872). In addition, John and Maria Bowles of Great Yarmouth can still be found there in the 1841 (TNA, HO 107/794/1/38/20) and 1851 (TNA, HO 107/1806/163/3) censuses, long after we know Charles and his parents were in the US.
