February 2026 Reviews

By Chris Jones

THE PRIVATE LIFE OF A STUDENT NURSE: Broadgreen Hospital School of Nursing 1979-1981 (the author 2025 134pp ISBN 979-8-291-382-530) £7.99 via Amazon

‘A NOTORIETY SO UNENVIABLE FOR DISEASE’: Liverpool and health, 1830 to 1951 (the author 2025 173pp ISBN 979-8-264586-87-3) £8.99 via Amazon

Chris Jones, a retired academic nurse who lives in Liverpool, is an active member of the Liverpool History Society. He leads historical walks around his home city and is also a prolific author on various aspects of Liverpool’s history. He has recently published memories of his ‘nurse training’, which he ‘really enjoyed’ and which was, ‘by and large … lifechanging’, not least because he ‘was given a skill that nobody could take away’. Having gained a philosophy degree from the University of Wales in 1976, he had various jobs in and out of the NHS before applying for nursing training in 1979. He was offered a place either at the Royal Liverpool Infirmary, to start the following January, or at the Broadgreen Hospital School of Nursing in October, opting for the latter. The nursing class comprised 23 young women and Chris. His father, ‘an archetypal 1970s trade union militant’ didn’t quite tell him ‘that’s no job for a man’ – but came close – although in later years the usefulness of his son’s nursing training became apparent to him. In the first week of preliminary training, the student nurses were given the programme which mapped out their next three years—Chris put this ‘map’ on the wall at home and ‘crossed out each hurdle as the months went by’. Although a personal memoir of student days, this can also be read as a local history of some of Liverpool’s health care facilities in the early 1980s, such the still-functioning pre-First World War parts of Broadgreen Hospital and the Rainhill psychiatric institution.

Chris’s work as a practising nurse has given him a professional interest in public health in Liverpool in the past. Over the years he has published articles in various journals on aspects of diseases, treatment and health care in Liverpool. A selection of them have been edited and reproduced in ‘A notoriety so unenviable for disease’, the title taken from an article in the Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer in 1866 which described the city’s problems. In editing them, and providing separate introductions, he draws some parallels with more recent events, such as Covid 19 and migrant issues, but wisely concludes that such situations are not wholly analogous. Several of the articles are based around nineteenth-century newspaper reports: for example, ‘Local press coverage of the first cholera outbreak in Liverpool in 1832’ examines how that outbreak was reported over that year and local debates on problems facing the city when 5000 victims suffered from cholera and over 1000 died. On 15 June, it was reported that doctors were being attacked as it was thought that they were profiting from the outbreak, when in fact they were working free of charge. In ‘Coverage of the Irish Famine crisis in the Liverpool press’, Jones notes that the arrival of huge numbers of Irish was treated as a local problem, which was not just the influx of poor people but the epidemic disease which followed. The Liverpool Mercury also reported on the activities of Dr George Stuart Hawthorne during the outbreak of cholera in 1848-49. He was a maverick doctor who claimed to have developed an infallible cure. His treatments involved the use of opium, whereas other doctors recommended bleeding and the use of calomel (mercurous chloride). Hawthorne’s ‘cure’ was ‘probably not inferior to accepted contemporary practice’ and at least avoided poisoning sufferers with heavy metal. Other chapters include medical advertising in mid-nineteenth-century Liverpool; Dr Swedour, ‘Liverpool’s godfather of venereal quackery’; ‘The foundation of Liverpool Training School and Home for Nurses 1862’; and ‘How Walton workhouse became the workhorse of the health services of Liverpool’. The articles demonstrate how similar work could be done on health and health services in other towns and cities. HEATHER FALVEY is the Reviews Editor for The Local Historian.

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By Michael F. James and Ruth Halliwell

(Bishop’s Stortford History Society 2025 208pp ISBN 978-1-7385289-2-9) £25

A review of this book might simply comprise the authors’ preface, which sums up clearly their findings and their relevance, but I want to open with their observation that ‘despite the explosion of research in castle studies [Waytemore] is rarely mentioned, even in passing’. Well, why would it be? When travelling north by train, just outside Bishop’s Stortford station one can fleetingly see in a public park a mound with some large stones on the top: that’s Waytemore Castle. However, the writings and activities of J.L Glasscock, a Victorian builder and local historian, four community digs funded by the National Lottery Heritage Fund (2019-2024), new mapping techniques and various documentary sources have enabled the authors to provide a history of the castle and its impact on local, and indeed national, history.

Waytemore Castle in Bishop’s Stortford is known to have been built before 1085, so it was early in terms of Norman castles. The authors pose several questions about this, perhaps most searchingly ‘why would a Norman bishop of London, rather than a military baron, build such an edifice … in Stortford, then an unremarkable hamlet?’. The pre-Conquest history of Stortford is difficult to reconstruct but Domesday Book provides some clues and as do the proximity of Stane Street and the contours revealed by LiDAR imaging. Basically, the settlement site in Stortford was on higher ground, above the flood plain of the river Stort, so was probably chosen for its defensive qualities. The eleventh century political situation is discussed, the main ‘political’ actor in Stortford being William, bishop of London, who held numerous Hertfordshire manors, having purchased Stortford before the Conquest and many others after it (with the king’s consent). The authors deduce that the workforce who built the castle would have come from the bishop’s manors in the locality. The castle had a bailey, which would have housed that workforce, and given its situation in the river valley it would first need to be consolidated. The documentary evidence reveals the buildings that were there over time and some physical evidence was revealed during the archaeological digs.

Chapter 5, ‘Building the Castle Mound’, uses LiDAR images and ‘archaeological’ findings to deduce how the mound was constructed. I say ‘archaeological’ because much of the discussion is based on the observations of Glasscock, who sank a trial borehole into the mound to investigate its contents; he made comments on his findings but left no other description. The point is that the mound comprised (at least) 16 different layers, since it needed to be firm and dry as it slowly rose. The authors then make various logical deductions about how the mound was built and calculate the necessary labour force required: about 29,000 man-days in the non-agricultural season.

In Chapter 6, ‘Building the Keep Superstructure’, much use is made of depictions of wooden Norman keeps in the Bayeux Tapestry and excavations of South Mimms castle (Hertfordshire) are used as possible comparators. Waytemore’s position in a river valley might at first seem unpromising in terms of dominating the countryside but, as the authors point out, its location meant that it controlled access along the Causeway (the main east-west route) and also along the river valley north-south, so the ‘site suggests that, in the time of its construction, this traffic was already important, a strategic fact understood by Bishop William’. Figures 7-1 and 7-2 use viewshed analysis to show ‘what is theoretically visible today from a viewpoint 9.6m above the castle mound’ (the height of the keep): firstly Bishop’s Stortford itself and secondly 5km around Waytemore. The conclusion is that a flag on top of the keep would have been seen for miles around and thus the bishop chose his site wisely. Comparisons are made with other nearby castles.

In ‘The Castle’s Function’ the authors suggest how the bishop used the castle. It was never a residence of the bishop of London but some of his manorial courts, courts leet and honour courts were held there, and there was a prison there for ‘criminous clerks’ convicted in his ecclesiastical courts. Waytemore’s principal involvement in national history occurred during the tortuous reign of King John when the castle was demolished by the king, who gave Bishop William £750 in recompense. The castle was then rebuilt in 1213-14, ‘emphasising the bishop’s own stature as well as the castle’s importance’, and King John visited in March 1216. The remains of the ‘shell-keep’ visible today on top of the castle mound date from this rebuilding. The chapters discussing this structure rely heavily on Glasscock’s written observations (which simply noted what he saw, without any speculation on what it might mean), some of his photographs of the site and modern non-invasive geophysical investigations. Some of the discussion is necessarily speculative, but the deductions and figures indicate that the keep ‘could have been impressive to visitors’.

Within the castle bailey was the bishop’s prison. There are no physical remains, but surviving records provide evidence of its use over time. As sheriff’s warrants to be executed over a wide area were directed to the bishop, ‘criminous clerks’ may not have been the only prisoners held there. Under Queen Mary (r.1553-58), Bishop Bonner was zealously anti-Protestant and it appears that he kept convicted Protestants in his prison at Stortford. It is recorded that the castle was ruinous in about 1549, but the prison was in use until 1598. In that year John Norden saw the ‘Castle of Waymour’. There is no earlier record of this name so the authors speculate that it was a colloquialism that Norden had picked up and may, ‘in common usage, have long predated him’. The name’s meaning is discussed (inconclusively).

The castle fell out of use for two main reasons: the building’s general obsolescence (the early thirteenth century structure was not ‘modernised’) and the religious changes of the early sixteenth century which resulted in bishops’ temporal powers being curtailed. Chapter 17, ‘Demise and Sale (1549-1849)’, outlines what happened to the site and provides details of the eventual sale in late 1849. William Taylor, a wealthy barge owner and coal importer, purchased the site of the prison (on which the Cherry Tree Inn had been built), the surrounding grounds and the castle mound. He built Castle Cottage on the site of the inn. Over the years there were reports of human bones being found on the site and much speculation as to their age; modern technology has revealed that they were Saxon burials, confirming the presence of a Saxon population in the area.

The excavations on which Glasscock made his notes were carried out in 1900 (the notes are transcribed in full in Appendix 2). In 1907 the castle gardens, i.e. all that was left on the site, were purchased by the Town Council with Glasscock’s aid. At that time Edward Taylor wrote him a ‘memorandum … as to the old walls etc’ with a sketch plan of his house, Castle Cottage. Comparing these with georeferenced maps (the 1839 tithe map and 1884 OS map) and Open Street Map (OSM – digitally derived from satellite images) it has been possible to suggest that Castle Cottage was built on the site of the original Norman gatehouse; physical evidence is now lacking following redevelopment in 1968.

Reconstructing the castle in words and plans would have been impossible without the work of Glasscock. In 1907, standing on the site of the castle yard, he gave a talk to the members of the Urban District Council describing the castle buildings and activities that might have been going on there in about 1300. In 1915, based on Glasscock’s work, Charles Ashdown made a sketch and then a picture of Waytemore Castle for his ‘Castles in their Glory’ series. The authors explain what is wrong with his depiction (the detail is over-elaborate and no evidence has ever been found for a moat filled with water); nevertheless, they concede that it gives food for thought. In ‘Potential future investigations’ they provide details of the kinds of documentary records that might be searched for more information and what archaeology in particular areas of the site could be carried out to illuminate further understanding of the castle precinct.

This highly informative book, which has copious illustrations and maps, endnotes, an extensive bibliography and an index, is a collaboration between local historian Mike James and Ruth Halliwell whose expertise is in archaeological geophysics, excavation, mapping software and subject-related literature. Although it appears unremarkable to the modern train-traveller, readers of this book will find much information on Waytemore Castle.

HEATHER FALVEY is the Reviews Editor for The Local Historian.

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By Peter Brown

(Brown Dog Books 2025 152pp ISBN: 978-1-83952-921-4) £24.99

Dr Reginald Grove was a family doctor, medical officer of health and workhouse doctor during the late nineteenth century and first four decades of the twentieth century in St Ives, Huntingdonshire. He was a prominent member of the local community and an inveterate diary keeper. His diary, an important social document, has been published as The Life and Times of a Victorian Country Doctor edited by his grandson Peter Flower, who is also the author of this book.

An early interest in photography led to Dr Grove experimenting with stereoscopic photography using a camera with double lenses which resulted in two identical negatives and prints which, when seen through a special viewer, should appear in 3D thus giving realistic depths to the pictures. A selection of the double prints is reproduced in this book, but there is a problem. No viewer is supplied, so to see the prints as they were intended to be seen, a viewer would need to be purchased. It is possible that this will make no difference—I could not see anything with or without glasses, neither could my eldest son, but my younger son could and has described to me how the photos look in 3D. The effect works best when there is a figure in the foreground, but many of photos need stronger definition and are blurry, and in some cases the 3D effect did not work at all. This may be caused by the difficulty of making adjustments between the eyes and the shape of the book, or due to the printing process used.

Despite these difficulties the photographs are a good record of life from the late nineteenth century to the 1940s. Especially interesting are the photographs of working people. The selections illustrate Dr Grove’s many interests including membership of the St Ives Rowing Club and his expeditions abroad. These photographs include scenes from Austria, France, Norway and Switzerland and the most interesting from Bavaria in Germany dated 1936 which is of a troop of Hitler Youth marching through a town decked with Nazi banners. The local history element comes in photographs of St Ives and other Huntingdonshire scenes, as well as pictures of unnamed ‘Fenmen’ and other local people including the elderly. Anyone interested in church architecture and medieval church craftmanship will find the chapters on church interiors of value.

Context is provided by details on the development of stereoscopic photography and the Stereoscopic Societies and their exhibitions which helped to promote it. The Stereoscopic Society’s 1927 outing was to St Ives. The report of their activities in the town is included but oddly all the photographs taken during the 3-day outing, and shown in the book, are in mono, perhaps because as the report mentions transporting the equipment necessary to take stereophonic plates was difficult.

EVELYN LORD is the chair of the Cambridgeshire Association for Local History and is concerned with the lives of people in the past, as illustrated in many of the photographs in this book. She is currently working on a project reconstructing the lives of the townsfolk of Cambridge in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. EDWARD LORD is a nuclear scientist, but in his ‘spare’ time is working on a book on the design and development of railway carriages from the 1930s-1950s.

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By Bob Horne

(Lightcliffe and District Local History Society 2025 xviii +296pp ISBN 978-1-916-9836-18) £15 + £4p&p from https://www.lightcliffecricket.com/history/

Bob Horne's book demonstrates a phenomenal amount of research and is very much a labour of love. Copiously illustrated, it shows the Lightcliffe Cricket Club as a real part of this Calderdale community, between Halifax and Brighouse, with senior teams playing competitive league cricket. Over the years, talented local players have played alongside a carefully selected number of international and overseas cricketers. At times the club has benefited from the largest membership in the area, taking in all ages and abilities. An almost forensically detailed account has been achieved by trawling through minutes, newspapers and any other documentation available and is an indication of the author's close personal involvement with the club over many years.

The story starts in the third quarter of the nineteenth century, hence the anniversary volume, although there were games at least three years prior to this with a loose group of players. A team was eventually instrumental in helping found the Halifax and District League. It enjoyed the facilities of a new pavilion in 1922 (lasting over a hundred years) and in the years before the Second World War joined the Bradford League (formed in 1903), playing a high-level game just below first-class cricket. Participation in the Bradford League was an important part of the club’s history from 1924 to 1939.

Upkeep of the ground (as well as availability of players) inevitably suffered during the Second World War, as was the case for many clubs. In the later 1940s the club suffered a period when gate receipts were down; prospects rose considerably during the 1950s. Later, there were concerns over lease renewal and retention of the ground, but good years occurred around the club’s centenary. Subsequently there were games played for various leagues, inclusion of internationally renowned players and the introduction of a women’s team. No detail is spared of individual matches and credits are given to individuals for match successes at all levels of the game, including junior teams. Highlights throughout the club’s history have included the prize of the prestigious Priestley Cup for the First XI achieved on six occasions since its introduction, most recently in 2013.

Made evident through photographs and the index, the recurrence of names throughout the most recent decades shows close familial involvement of spouses and children. Nothing is neglected: attention is given to all that keeps a club going including vigorous fundraising, committee meetings and AGMs, provision of teas and maintenance of the ground. A happy finale is the construction of a new pavilion during the last couple of years thanks to the generosity of a major donor and with dedicated fundraising by the club. Currently there are four senior teams playing every weekend at the Wakefield Road ground or away, and a wide range of junior teams accommodating pretty much all age groups. All this is held together by a dedicated group of volunteers.

As well as being such a comprehensive history of Lightcliffe Cricket Club, this is a very attractive volume with an abundance of illustrations. A surprising number of photos and match reports survive from the club’s early years, and it is clear from one of several appendices that the club has embraced modern technology with the dissemination of screened games for the benefit of those unable to attend them in person. Appropriately, the book is also published in Yorkshire. It represents a phenomenal amount of research and a thoroughly warm appreciation of all the club has given to the community over the years – and of the dedication of the community to the club. Anyone interested in the development of cricket clubs, especially in Yorkshire, will embrace the publication of this book. From an entirely random check a couple of glitches were apparent in the index, with a mismatch between page numbers and names; this does not detract, however, from an otherwise delightful volume.

SARAH KEATES is a volunteer in the archive of Hebden Bridge Local History Society. She recently catalogued an interesting collection of late nineteenth century letters donated to the Society on behalf of Todmorden Cricket Club. These included correspondence from famous names in the cricketing world who had helped to shape the Club’s history.

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Edited by Patrick Cosgrove

(the author 2025 xvi+117pp ISBN 978-1-915972-82-8) £10+p&p fromhttps://www.thegreatbritish bookshop.co.uk/

If asked to list enduring achievements of the Victorian era, it is likely that few, or indeed any, would mention the parish magazine, yet from its relatively small beginnings in the 1850s it has become a much-loved feature particularly of rural life, still performing many of its original functions. These originally were to provide information (mainly but not exclusively about church-based activities) and to give the literate poor some morally uplifting reading matter. The format consisted of a nationally produced magazine, confusingly termed an insert, which contained a mixture of feature articles (for example on newly-built churches), religious instruction, and suitably moral stories. Onto these inserts could then be stapled a locally produced news-sheet based on a particular parish or group of parishes. In many places, this format survived basically unchanged until well into the latter years of the twentieth century.

By the 1870s parish magazines had spread to many parts of the country, and by 1890 had reached some of the remoter parts of Shropshire, including the large parish of Clun on the very border of Wales. Chapel Lawn is a small village some four miles from Clun. The church, which had been erected between 1841 and 1844, and indeed until 1991 had the status of chapel of ease to Clun, was served by a curate who lived in that town. In common with many places, Clun produced news-sheets for individual parishes in its deanery, which were attached to the inserts. It was common for copies of both parish news-sheets and inserts to be bound annually and retained by the church which had issued them. Unfortunately in many cases, including Clun, these bound copies were often thrown away by tidy-minded clergy, sometimes being rescued by interested parishioners. From a variety of sources Patrick Cosgrove assembled a considerable number of volumes of the Clun Valley magazine, from which he has extracted the entries for Chapel Lawn which form the basis of this book.

The contents of parish news-sheets were fairly stereotyped, and included a pastoral letter from the vicar (or in the case of Chapel Lawn, curate-in-charge); details of baptisms, marriages and funerals in the preceding month; special services, collections etc.; and accounts of various activities which had taken place in the parish. The editor has wisely omitted most of the monthly letters from the clergy, which generally are of little historical interest. The few examples which are quoted in part are largely focused on the evils of drink, and particularly the threat posed to the morals of local youths by the annual Clun Fair. One wonders whether after such a build-up, the young men of the village found the reality of this bacchanalia something of an anti-climax. No such temptations would have been present at the various events organised by the church during the period.

In an isolated community like Chapel Lawn the church tended to provide most if not all of the entertainment which took place. There was no nonconformist place of worship in the immediate vicinity to provide alternative attractions. Concerts were particularly popular, and for four years from 1892 the parish was fortunate to have the assistance of William Henry Davies, a professional musician from Liverpool who had married locally, and gave much assistance gratis. Somewhat more esoteric, and extremely popular, was Mrs. Jarley’s Waxworks, where various members of the congregation impersonated waxwork figures. The magazine at times also reported on local matters unconnected with the church, such as the building of a new bridge over the Redlake Brook, funds for which had been raised locally, particularly by W. H. Davies and his troupe of minstrels. An unusual event noted in June 1892 was the draining of Clun Pool for Lord Powis, who gave anyone who wished a bucket of eels.

What elevates this publication from being of very restricted interest is the editing. Mr Cosgrove has produced biographical notes on most of the parishioners who feature most frequently in the magazine, and it is possible to see who were the leading lights in parish affairs. He has also included a most useful section on local place-names, listing variations for each from medieval times where possible. This is particularly useful as many were of Welsh origin, which reflects the fact that this was a Welsh-speaking area for several generations after the Act of Union in 1536. Textual references are expanded and explained where necessary. For example, where the magazine gives an account of the death of Bishop Atlay of Hereford in February 1895, we are told by the editor that the bishop’s son had been murdered by tribesmen near Lake Nyasa, while working for the Universities’ Mission to Central Africa, a cause for which a great deal of money was raised in the diocese. Curious readers may like to read the reason why Atlay’s successor, Dr. Percival, had been known as ‘Percival of the knees’ when headmaster of Rugby (March 1895).

This is a charming and erudite book, beautifully produced and illustrated with contemporary photographs, which shows how much information can be gleaned from this rather hitherto neglected source. As noted above, there are limitations to parish magazines, such as the lack of information about the activities of other denominations. They do, however, contain material which did not find its way into local newspapers, a source which has been widely used, and it is to be hoped that readers will be inspired to investigate their own parish magazines if they have survived.

Dr MARTIN SPEIGHT is a past chairman of the Shropshire Archaeological and Historical Society. Coincidentally, he also possesses a bound set of magazines for his own parish which includes the same period as the book reviewed above.

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By Bill Laws

(Logaston Press 2025 192pp ISBN 978-1-910839-78-2) £20

As a keen collector of books on Herefordshire I have a notable gap: I do not have a copy of Bull and Hogg’s Herefordshire Pomona, mainly because the high standard of the book means that it always fetches a good price! Published under the auspices of the Woolhope Naturalists’ Field Club, the prime mover was Dr Henry Bull, his co-author being the pomologist Dr Robert Hogg. Most of the illustrations were drawn by Edith Bull and Alice Ellis, and the watercolours thus produced were reproduced by chromolithography by the firm of G. Severyns of Brussels, who produced 77 full-page plates using 441 separate watercolours. These were issued in seven instalments, the last in 1884. The following year bound-up volumes of the work became available, made up by the firm of Jakeman and Carvers, in High Town, who printed the letterpress. Some 600 two-volume sets were produced, and it was a notable publishing event.

In view of the importance of the volume it is perhaps surprising that only now has a book on the history of this enterprise has been produced, the present work covering the earlier pomonas and the events leading up to the production of this outstanding book. After an introduction, the scene is set by describing the participation of the Woolhope Club at an apple congress at Rouen in 1884, when four medals for cider were won (a fifth was for grapes). This introduces Bull and Hogg, and Bull’s wider interests. The story then goes back to the seventeenth century, to the work of the pomologist the Rev John Beale, known for his work Herefordshire Orchards: a Pattern for All England (1656/7). Inevitably, the story then shifts to Thomas Andrew Knight, who developed his horticultural interests from the latter part of the eighteenth century. In 1808 the Herefordshire Agricultural Society decided to publish the Pomona Herefordiensis in parts, based on a series of previously published engravings; the first part was issued in 1809, with text by T.A. Knight, and the full series was completed late in 1811. As well as an introduction, the book consisted of 30 coloured plates, many executed by Elizabeth Matthews, of Belmont, each accompanied by text, which, at three plates per part, implies ten parts. In 1876 plans for a Herefordshire Pomona were formally approved by a meeting of the Woolhope Club, the driving force being Dr Henry Graves Bull, and all the background to this is discussed at length. The result was a superb volume, a credit to those involved and to the Club itself. The book under review concludes with a description of the orchards at Much Marcle in 1885, a report on an Apple Day at Putley in 1996, and finally a chapter tying up some loose ends, concluding with the funeral of Dr Bull at Breinton late in 1885.

This is, of course, only the very basic outline of what is contained in Bill Laws’ book. There are details on all the personalities involved, including the talented ladies on whose artwork so much depended, but whose contribution tends to be overlooked. This comment also applies to Knight’s Pomona Herefordiensis. There is new information on Alice Ellis, who made a great contribution to the Herefordshire Pomona. Much research has evidently been carried out, and the volume is superbly illustrated with a number of Severyns’ chromolithographs, and also with the original watercolours used to prepare the plates. These latter were found when Harley House, the long-term home of the Bull family, was sold after the death of Leila Bull in late 1957 (the sale was not in 1950 as stated in the text). They were bought by Edward Ball, who was in charge of the lab at H.P. Bulmer Ltd, and so passed into the ownership of Bulmer’s, now owned by Heineken, and are on long-term loan to the Cider Museum.

There is therefore much good material in this volume, which makes it worth purchasing. However, for this reviewer, there are several downsides. I am not a fan of the newspaper style of text. So, for instance, why describe Dr Bull as ‘a balding doctor with his wispy side whiskers? It is not germane to the argument, and it is immediately adjacent to a photograph of Dr. Bull. I find it remarkable that, when describing the Woolhope Dome, a geological feature after which the Woolhope Club was named, the author states that the vertical strata was ‘as exposed as a severed gobstopper’ (whatever that means!).

Also, was there an editorial process? The text is littered with inconsistencies and errors. So, for instance, on p.7 Dr Bull is stated to be 45 years of age in 1884, but on p.10 correctly as 66. The date when Alice Ellis came to Hereford is variously stated as 1877 and 1879. Chapter 9 is entitled ‘The Pomona Goes to Print. 4 High Town: 1885’. This refers to the premises of the printing firm of Jakeman and Carver, whose premises were at 4 & 5 High Town, yet on p. 114 the premises are given as 4&5 Widemarsh Street, ‘on the corner of High Town’. They were actually on the north side of High Town, roughly half-way between Widemarsh Street and the Market Hall. They have since been rebuilt. These, and a number of others, are irritating and should have been picked up. More importantly, the details of how Knight’s Pomona Herefordiensis came about have been misinterpreted. That said, and accepting these imperfections, there is much good material and many superb illustrations, enough to make purchase worthwhile.

Dr JOHN C. EISEL FSA is deeply interested in the history of his adopted county, and specialises in the nineteenth century history of Hereford, on which he has published extensively, and in the agricultural history of the county.

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By Tony Redman

(Suffolk Institute of Archaeology and History 2025 219pp ISBN 978-1-8381223-3-1) £25 + £5 p&p

When you first open some books you immediately know they are going to be both interesting and informative: this is such a book. The title, correctly, says that the book is about building stone in Suffolk but the same stone is used in adjacent counties and some of the stones studied originate from well beyond the Suffolk borders. Tony Redman tells us that the book is ‘part history, part field guide and part a celebration of the building materials which make Suffolk distinctive’. A useful section on the methodology used by the author describes how the process developed from that used by the Essex Rock and Mineral Society. This has been used in his five-year study of stone-built churches and public buildings in Suffolk. After a general inspection, the architectural features were examined, followed by a detailed study of a randomly selected square metre. After a short section on the history of building with stone, the following chapter looks at the bedrock and surface geology of Suffolk.

Chapter One is a very full and informative description of the geology of Suffolk and parts of the surrounding counties, which will prove useful to readers in other part of the country. Having described the formation of the many deposits, there are interesting comments on the possible use of these as building material. The author makes it clear that this book is not intended to be ‘an in-depth assessment of geological time’ nor to ‘detail the geological landscape’, but is an attempt to assess the stones used in buildings in Suffolk. This first chapter emphasises the diversity of stone used in the area. With little in the way of its own sources of stone suitable for building, importation from adjacent areas, such as Barnack stone from Cambridgeshire, and further afield is a common theme. Where stone has come from and how it was used, along with issues about transport by land and water, are further explored. The chapter concludes with a section on the identification of stone in buildings and the difficulties of distinguishing closely related stone. A table gives the occurrence of different types in Suffolk, with knapped black flint being the most frequently used.

Chapter Two is concerned with the source and use of freestones. At this point it helps to refer back to the glossary on page 13 where freestone is defined: ‘a stone capable of being cut and shaped in three dimensions without splitting’. Much of this chapter is taken up by a useful study of the Lincolnshire/Northamptonshire freestones with the quarries looked at in alphabetical order. A map of the occurrences of Barnack stone in Suffolk illustrates the western distribution—nearer to the quarries—and having a long history of use, starting in the Roman period.

Chapter Three continues with the in-depth study of what the author terms ‘walling stones’. At the end of the first chapter Table 1 presented the distribution of walling stones in churches by incidence—in this table the most frequently used stone is knapped black flint with ‘Sherwood’, as the second most frequently used. Unfortunately, neither Sherwood, its previous name of Bunter sandstone, nor the word sandstone appears in the index. Careful searching finds section 3.12 of Chapter Three headed ‘Sandstones, orthoquartzites and box stones’, where it is explained that orthoquartzite generally refers to sedimentary sandstones. Fo the non-specialist reader this makes it somewhat more difficult to understand the significance of the use of different stones. The photographs and distribution maps of the occurrence of walling stones in Suffolk are very well presented and must represent many hours of visits to sites. The details presented on each stone type will be very useful for those trying to identify wall stones.

Chapter Four gives details of the use of stone used for memorials, beginning with a section on alabaster memorials, many from the Nottingham/Derby area, and including various marbles. Information on paving stones and roofing slates complete this chapter. The penultimate chapter on stone types deals with manufactured stones such as Coade stone. The last chapter is the result of extensive research into the men and women, masons and sculptors of Suffolk.

As noted earlier Tony Redman makes it clear at the beginning of his book that it is ‘part history, part field guide and part a celebration of the building materials which make Suffolk distinctive’ but not an in-depth study of Suffolk geology. With its 247 illustrations of stones and buildings and 21 maps it certainly provides much useful information not just for people interested in Suffolk but also a wider area.

MICHAEL COLES’ degree was on the brick industry of the late medieval period. He has an interest in landscape and the source and use of natural products such as clay, stone and timber in build

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By Neil Wiffen

(Friends of Historic Essex with the Essex Record Office 2025 x+82pp ISBN 978-0-950210-04-9) £15 + p&p or in person from ERO Searchroom

Since the Friends of Historic Essex (FHE) was founded in 1954, its members have been supporting the Essex Record Office (ERO) and local history in the county in various practical ways, perhaps the most tangible being financial help to purchase documents, and other records, for the ERO. This beautifully produced book has been published to celebrate the FHE’s 70th anniversary. The (just over) 70 items have been selected by ERO staff, both present and former, and a wide range of researchers, not only local to Essex, but also from elsewhere in the UK and from abroad. The items range is, first of parchment and then of paper, the later ones include drawings, photographs, printed records and film and sound recordings. The latter are accessible to the ‘reader’ via a QR code, thus you can hear Mr Cutmore of Halstead singing ‘A little bit of cucumber’ in about 1960 (no.57).

The entries have not been arranged in any particular order: rather than arrange them by document type or chronologically, it was decided to present them in more-or-less random order (using a random number generator to select this), thus enabling you to move backwards and forwards through time as you turn the pages. There is no index (which is fine in this kind of publication), but the Contents list is very meagre, simply giving each item’s number in the selection, its ERO call number and name of the person who selected it. This means that it is impossible to know what an entry is without actually looking at it, so you have to look at everything, which is the purpose of the book: to showcase a few of the gems within the ERO’s collections. Each contributor has written a brief commentary on ‘their’ entry, giving reasons for their selection and sometimes a summary of its contents. They have not provided a transcript but you can do this yourself as the documents have been reproduced in high resolution

As you browse the book, so many different aspects of the past catch your eye. There are personal records, such as diary entries made by Clarissa Bramston in 1832 (no.9) and James Taber in 1880 (no.38). Records of the administration of the poor laws and care of the poor include Terling All Saints’ overseers’ accounts from 1702 and 1811 (nos.20.1 & 20.2), Essex County Lunatic Asylum (later Warley Hospital) cases from 1890 and 1897 (nos.19.1 & 19.2) and interviews in 2024 about the Uttlesford Foodbank (no.10). Education features in, for example, a 1910 building plan of the Technical College, North Hill, Colchester (no.13), Hatfield Broad Oak St Mary’s Church of England School log book, 1897 (no.16), and St Edward’s Girls School, Romford, logbook, 1908 (no.54). The two world wars are represented by a letter from Katherine Evelyn Luard, nursing sister on the Western Front, written on 10 November 1918 (no.29) and the front page of the album of watercolours created by German prisoners of war at Hylands House, completed 1946 (no.28). Religious records include a page from 1566 in the parish register of St James, Little Clacton (no.4) and the beautifully illustrated mid-thirteenth century cartulary from St John’s Abbey, Colchester (no.64). Other striking illustrations include the illuminated H of Henry VI’s confirmation of the Maldon Borough Charter (no.50, enlarged on the front cover), the c.1670 map from the survey of the Manor of Porters, which is the earliest cartographic representation of ‘Southend’ (no.51), and detail from John Walker’s 1591 ‘trew platt of the mannor and towne of Chellmisforde’ (no.53). As someone with an interest in the so-called Peasants’ Revolt of 1381, perhaps my favourite document is that selected by Herbert Eiden: an extract from the court roll of the manor of Copford, dated 15 December 1383, which records (in Latin) that ‘the court rolls had been burnt during the time of the rumour’.

This is a delightful book that will appeal to anyone interested in historical documents, whether medieval or more recent. The ERO is fortunate in having such good Friends. Other record offices are not so well supported and at a time when their very existence is threatened in some counties, the Friends of Historic Essex must be praised for their valuable support.

HEATHER FALVEY is the Reviews Editor for The Local Historian.

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By Mick Davis

(Hobnob Press 2025 277pp ISBN 978-1-914407-97-0) £19.95

Since 1983 Hobnob Press has been publishing Wiltshire and West Country history. With nearly 300 titles under its own imprint, as well as others for local history societies and organisations, it works with historians, researchers and local communities. Mick Davis, the author of this book, was brought up in Plymouth and Uxbridge before finding gainful employment with one of London's top criminal defence lawyers. He now works full-time researching and writing and is the author of 14 books, some in collaboration with others, covering subjects from prehistoric barrows to true crime and several on the history and topography of Somerset.

The introduction makes clear that this book is not a pub guide and ‘You will not find recommendations of where to go for lunch or insightful comments on craft beers. Nor is it an academic study [but it] is primarily an exercise in local and social history as seen through the activities of the many hostelries dotted through the town of Weymouth past and present. It is aimed to be a rather gossipy and entertaining slice of largely Victorian life through a delightful seaside town’.

In terms of arrangement the text lists alphabetically the 120 past and present pubs located in the historic heart of Weymouth and Melcombe Regis. It details the many families who ran them, drank in them and were hauled out of them by the constable to appear in the magistrates’ courts. The patronage of these pubs appears to have been drawn from locals, holidaymakers and day-trippers brought in by the railway (from 1857), travellers to the Channel Islands, sailors and soldiers.

Davis relies on census returns, local newspapers and Ordnance Survey maps for his main sources. He comments that many renumberings of streets can make tracing buildings somewhat difficult and cautions us against being misled by the local press into believing all locally was dismal. Each entry merits two or three pages and many contain images and, in some cases, maps. The scheme of each entry is similar, but the whole exhibits an enormous amount of work, as an earlier reviewer has commented.

Most of the pubs or inns have now ceased to be licensed premises. Certain of them were historic, being mentioned in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, although many appear to have come into being in the early to mid-nineteenth century as a result of the Beerhouse Act 1830, which enabled the ready supply of beer as an alternative to strong spirits. Many landlords sought spirit licences and it is those applications which often featured before the licensing justices. It is noticeable that many licensed premises were run by women, or principally by women, as their husbands often had additional occupations such as gardeners, builders, cab drivers and, in one case, as a veterinary surgeon. Several pubs offered sidelines such as auctions and transport undertakings or were the meeting places or headquarters of friendly societies or, in the eighteenth century, were used for recruiting soldiers and sailors. The larger premises featured assembly rooms for holding dinners, balls and receptions. On the darker side, several pubs came under scrutiny for being disorderly houses. Not a lot could be done to expel customers if they were standing as opposed to sitting or lying. One pub was found to have 20 prostitutes plying their trade on several occasions). Others saw episodes of domestic violence, suicide and tortoise-racing. Many licensees were prosecuted for selling alcohol outside permitted hours and on Sundays or in short measures or by misdescription. Whether or not premises were actually poorly run, there were campaigns by temperance groups and the police to close them down (those in 1908 and 1923 are noted) and certainly there were a plethora of pubs—one property was described as having 16 pubs within a 50-yard radius.

There are many anecdotes, ranging from the murder of a merchant in 1645, and a soldier who smashed pub windows to secure his arrest so that he could visit his girlfriend in the police cells, to an ordinary hen laying a monster egg, and licensees being defrauded by a fake seller of trade directory entries. Among the more noteworthy historical accounts are those involving a Civil War skirmish in which 500 Royalist soldiers were killed (the Boot Inn), the discovery of seditious material by Daniel Defoe when a government spy, and a cover-up of local notables found gambling, together with various myths and legends such as the renaming of The Dove as The Black Dog because of the introduction of labrador dogs from Newfoundland.

The book is completed by a list of certain sources and contacts, which one would expect, and a comprehensive index. Our understanding of the stories would have been assisted by more of the historical context of society in general and of Weymouth and Melcombe Regis in particular (for example, the Civil War, the growth as a seaside resort with royal patronage, its being a port and its military connections), together with an outline of the licensing regime which so influenced much of the newspaper content. It would have been interesting to discover whether the number and nature of the hostelries in Weymouth were out of line with comparable places. The book is not an academic volume with footnoting, references and a bibliography, but as a work of entertaining local and social history it lives up to the author’s billing and its enticing title.

IAN DAVISON worked as a solicitor in and for local government, including parish and town councils, for village halls and the associations of local councils throughout southern England. He is now researching social and architectural local history.

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By Richard Dudding

(Independent Publishing Network 2025 xi+108pp ISBN 978-1-83688-349-4) £15 + £3.50 p&p (all proceeds to Radley History Club)

Wick Hall is situated on the edge of the village of Radley (now in Oxfordshire, formerly in Berkshire). As its title indicates, Richard Dudding’s book is about the house itself, its associated estate and its owners, and relates the not uncommon story of the rise and fall of a family, here the Dockar Drysdales, over several generations.

Following a brief history of Wick Farm up to 1850, the reader is introduced to William Dockar who purchased it in that year. Not much is known of his early life, but he was born in Banff, northern Scotland in March 1803, to unmarried parents. In 1818 he left Banff for London and by 1826 was employed by Alexander Robertson, who was involved in overseas trade and mining ventures in Cuba and Haiti. Dockar became Robertson’s trusted representative at home when the latter went abroad (neither appear on the database relating to slave trading). In 1839 William married Catherine Powell; their only child Josephine was born in 1841; Catherine died of bronchitis less than a year later; sometime before 1851 her widowed sister Charlotte became part of the Dockar household. During the 1850s William became heavily involved in managing properties in London for his extended family. In 1850 Wick Farm in Radley was sold by auction and purchased by William but continued to be rented to tenants. He died a wealthy man on New Year’s Eve 1882.

In August 1865, at St Pancras, Josephine had married Andrew Drysdale, a Scot who was a spice merchant living and working in London; their only child William was born in October 1866. Andrew died a year later; thereafter Josephine, who continued to live in London as her relationship with her father was difficult, changed her surname to Dockar Drysdale. She apparently concentrated her energies on ‘the development of her son’. After her father’s death she became financially independent. In 1885 William went to Oxford University and his mother took lodgings in Oxford. By this time she was developing plans for Wick Farm, just 6 miles away. Major changes that she instituted included moving the principal farming base to the nearby village of Thrupp, thus freeing the former house at Wick Farm to be developed as a private residence (Wick Hall), and major building works were undertaken. She also purchased land elsewhere in Radley and became the dominant landowner. During the 1890s the family at Wick Hall consisted only of Josephine and her son, but visitors were invited, most of whom were William’s friends; however, from 1900 life there became very different.

In that year William married Eirene Watkiss Lloyd and by 1914 they had six children. The wealth of his grandfather at his death was £108,554, comprising mainly government bonds, Wick and Thrupp farms and loans to others; when his mother died in 1921, she had mortgaged much of her farmland and her net assets were only £7635; thus William inherited not only Wick Hall but also financial problems that he may not have been aware of initially. Eventually he decided to put the whole estate on the market, firstly the land and property, then the contents of Wick Hall. The 1930 catalogue for the property sale by auction provides a valuable record of the family’s landholding, of the house itself, and the estate’s development potential, including gravel beds below the farmland. In the event, little was sold (only some land to Radley College) so the family remained at Wick Hall and continued to hold much land in the village. Until 1938 the farms were let, then William and his son Stephen, who had studied agriculture at Wye College, Kent, formed a partnership for the direct management of Home Farm and Park Farm. This direct farming venture was not a success. The partnership was wound up and the farms let again to tenant farmers.

In September 1944 the company Wick Hall Estates Ltd (WHEL) was incorporated and William’s assets and liabilities were transferred to it. Two main considerations were (probably) to bring the estate under better management and to pass William’s assets to his children without giving rise to estate duty. Eirene died in 1951 and William in 1952. Initially gravel extraction rights were sold, yielding far more money than letting the same land as a farm; also Wick Hall was subdivided into flats, producing substantial rental income. But as the six children’s own lives developed, Wick Hall was not necessarily part of their future. In 1968 the Wick Hall estate was divided between the five surviving siblings, the house itself going to Paddy Dockar Drysdale, who then lived in Canada, but arrived back in Radley in July 1982. The final chapter outlines his contribution to life in the village and work on the Hall. When he died in 2020 his estate was divided between his four children, none of whom chose to live in Wick Hall, so the building and surrounding land were put on the market. Fortunately, the purchaser grew up in Radley, and he and his wife plan to make Wick Hall their family home.

On the one hand, as noted above, this is a not-uncommon tale of a family who made good in two generations, whose prosperity declined in the next, and succeeding generations split their inheritance. On the other hand, Wick Hall’s story is very different because, as Dudding explains, a large archive relating to the family and the estate has recently been discovered. When the house was sold in 2022 ‘a huge number of contemporary documents were found, some in an orderly state, some crumpled up in dirty old chests and bin bags’ (Figure 1:1 is a photograph of one of the chests and its contents). The point is that these previously unknown papers shed new light on the lives of various members of the family and on their business activities. Thus, for example, regarding William Dockar’s original purchase of Wick Farm, previously ‘it had been thought that this purchase was simply a property speculation, perhaps related to the Didcot to Oxford railway line, and that he took no interest in the farm’; however, within the newly discovered archive is a small leather notebook in which Dockar wrote details about the farm and made accurate drawings of the buildings and fields, indicating his interest therein. Furthermore, the Dockar Drysdales have been written about previously, often drawing on memoirs of various family members; Dudding’s meticulous research in the new archive, and his common sense, has enabled him to explode various myths about the characters and activities of their predecessors, and to demonstrate that some of these family ‘memories’ were inaccurate, to say the least. For example, Josephine had always been portrayed negatively, but in Chapter 8, ‘Josephine in the round’, and elsewhere, Dudding provides evidence that she was not always stern and controlling; indeed he has unearthed evidence, in the form of voluminous correspondence, of a love affair in the late 1870s between Josephine and Walter Sedgefield (c.1840-1921), an Abingdon solicitor, who never married. The newly discovered records also indicate that, rather than constantly monitoring her estate in Radley, in 1888 she purchased Newton Cottage in Lossiemouth, which she subsequently visited every summer. The cottage remained within the family and her son William and his family also stayed there frequently, forming a (perhaps surprising) friendship with Ramsey MacDonald, leader of the Labour Party, who had been brought up in Lossiemouth.

Following its discovery in 2022, sifting, sorting and cataloguing the Wick Hall Archive (WHA) was undertaken by Richard Dudding and Janice Thompson, starting in earnest in January 2023 and largely complete by July 2024. The archive has been drawn on extensively in this account of the Dockar Drysdales and Wick Hall. Other sources used include papers that were removed from Wick Hall and safely kept by other family members while Paddy was still in Canada. The text has been meticulously footnoted and indexed; maps and illustrations are clearly numbered and have descriptive titles explaining their contents; two appendices comprise family trees and notes on people outside the immediate family, but who had connections with them and are mentioned in the main text. The owners of the Wick Hall estate own the WHA, of which Richard Dudding is the archivist. His book is a model local history: it is based on surviving evidence and busts erroneous local myths.

HEATHER FALVEY is the Reviews Editor for The Local Historian.

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By David G. Williamson

(Hobnob Press 2024 xv+353pp ISBN 978-1-914407-67-3) £18.95

This is a comprehensive and detailed account of life in the city of Bath and its surrounding area between the two world wars. The written style is fluent and engaging and the work is based on extensive original primary research using sources such as newspapers, committee minutes, logbooks, registers, diaries, scrap books, miscellaneous personal and institutional papers, and oral interviews. These records themselves originate from an extremely wide variety of organisations including Bath City Council and city police, political groups, trade unions, schools, churches, hospitals, businesses, and a variety of clubs and societies. The work also draws on the existing secondary scholarship relating to Bath, and other related broader national studies.

In terms of structure, it engages with various political, social, cultural and economic themes within a broad chronological approach from the armistice in 1918 and the transition to peace through to the build-up to and the start of World War II in 1939. Although the discussion is rooted in local issues, people, organisations and businesses, the study is not a typical local history in the sense of a deep analysis of a particular place, but more a commentary on national and international issues as seen through a distinctive local lens; the lens of the Bathonian. So, topics, among others, include the Spanish flu, Bolshevism, the armistice and de-mobilisation, industrial unrest, the General Strike and economic depression, general election campaigns, the Empire, various international conflicts and the rise of Nazism: all as viewed and experienced in Bath. While the comprehensive coverage of issues is generally a strength of the work, it may have been beneficial overall to have had a slightly sharper focus on what were considered the main topics, which would have enabled them to be dealt with in a little more depth or to make more connections with the historiography.

The main text consists of 319 pages and there is a detailed contents section together with a useful list of abbreviations, an extensive bibliography, and a comprehensive index. There are two helpful maps of Bath at the front of the book, and a limited number of supporting images and illustrations help bring the text to life. The referencing style adopted is endnotes rather than footnotes, which may have been a formatting requirement rather than a choice. Personally, I find footnotes far more user-friendly than endnotes as it is quite disruptive to keep having to refer backwards and forwards rather than just glancing down at the page when you want more details of the relevant source. However, I still found the presentation in this format to be precise, accurate and scholarly, so this is just a matter of personal preference.

The work is likely of most interest and value to historians and inhabitants of the city of Bath and it implicitly assumes a degree of knowledge of the area of study. As someone without that knowledge, who has only visited the city a few times, I would really have benefitted from a more detailed description of ‘the place’ at the start of the book to fully appreciate the context e.g., the geography, landscape, demographics, transport connections, industries, employments, educational and religious provisions. For the less familiar, the knowledge and understanding of Bath certainly emerges and deepens as the book progresses but it would have been helpful to have provided a higher base level of understanding at the beginning. The maps were useful but, apart from these, there was no initial framing of the study in terms of the city.

The study is based on extensive and impressive research and shines a light on how important national and international issues were experienced at the local level. The work is insightful and provides a deep local perspective with vignettes around local characters, places and businesses adding real depth and flavour. In style it is more a descriptive account, although highly informative and engaging, rather than a detailed analysis centred around a particular historical argument. I found the section in Chapter 11 on air raid precautions and the preparations and planning for protection from attack particularly compelling, conveying very powerfully the scale of the logistical and psychological challenge of mobilising the civilian population and preparing them for war. The whole experience at the local level was, for me, brought vividly to life.

To fully appreciate the scholarly importance of the research it might have been helpful to have engaged more with the broader related historiography in addition to the scholarship around Bath. For example, how does this case study compared with those of other towns or cities? The contrast between the genteel, sophisticated town and the slums was interesting, but was this different in other cities or unique to Bath? Similarly, how does this research contribute to our understanding of some of the themes for this period which the book covered, such as religious decline and secularisation; how typical or different was the Bath experience in an urban context? However, other scholars will certainly be able to build on this research and make those connections, adding focus and depth where appropriate.

Bath between the Wars is an impressive, engaging and diligently compiled study underpinned by a substantial amount of original archival research. Against a backdrop of creeping ‘modernity’, the work shines a light on many aspects of social, cultural, political, religious and economic history between the wars as viewed through the lens of the residents of this distinctive spa city. The study also deepens our understanding of many national and international issues and subtly reveals the contrasting sides of Bath: cultural and industrial; conservative and radical; prosperous and needy. As such the book makes an important contribution to scholarship and will be welcomed by all local historians, not just those with a connection to Bath.

ALISTAIR BEECHER is a Departmental Lecturer with Oxford Lifelong Learning at the University of Oxford. His research and teaching interests are in religious and social history of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.

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