May 2024 Reviews

By Paul Anderton

(Clayhanger Press 2023 82pp ISBN 978-1-7391770-7-2) £14.99 (from the publisher at www.clayhangerpress.co.uk or the Brampton Museum, Newcastle-under-Lyme at bramptonmuseum@newcastle-staffs.gov.uk)

Published as one of the events marking the 850th anniversary of the Henry II’s creation of a borough at Newcastle-under-Lyme, Paul Anderton’s latest book concentrates on a key feature—the weekly market held on Mondays from 1590 (but with other days later added). Although much could be said about its pre-modern history, given the survival of corporation minute books, for various practical reasons the story starts with municipal reform in 1835 and the call for an indoor covered market. This was opposed by the burgesses who were able to trade toll-free in the open air in the High Street, familiarly known as ‘on the stones’. Such opposition to capital expenditure requiring a loan was characteristic of ratepayers in many long-established corporations, and was a brake on municipal improvement: when the lack of public baths in the town was noted in 1844, canals were claimed to be a convenient alternative. It was not until 1854 that baths were at last built, along with an indoor market, running off the main street, and animal sales were moved to a nearby smithfield in 1871.

Retailers were at first presumably confined to residents and those who could walk in from the surrounding countryside, but in the 1920s especially there was influx of traders from as far as Manchester, resulting in complaints from shopkeepers that customers now had difficulty in driving their cars up to shop fronts on market days. After a decade or so of both the indoor and outdoor markets, and the smithfield being run by an auctioneer, the two markets at least were brought back into council control in 1926. National changes in patterns of commerce and consumer shopping resulted in the demolition of the covered market in 1961 and the closure of the smithfield in 1992, but the present-day borough council has taken active steps to ensure that the open-air market continues, including a scheme to encourage those aged between 16 and 30 to take on stalls. As in many other towns there is now a monthly artisan market. As the author says in the Conclusion, the evidence for market activity is partial and, in particular, little is known about buyers’ habits, such as what proportion of household goods were bought from stalls on market days. Nor were there regular listings of the kinds of goods on sale, and here a record of what was typically on offer in 2023 would have been welcome, as an historical record. But as the history of a particular market, this nicely-illustrated study is a useful model for what can be said about what is still a defining feature of town life.

A member of the North Staffordshire Guild of Historians, which for many years happily met under Paul Anderton’s benign aegis, Nigel Tringham is now researching the origin of the ‘new castle’ after which the town is named, and which evidently stood near a market place which pre-dated the one ‘on the stones’.

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By Anne Murch

(the author 2023 120pp ISBN 979-8-862-386-011) £9.99 pbk & e-book via Amazon

Ever since the law of 1601 every parish (or in some circumstances its neighbours) became responsible for those of its inhabitants who were unable to support themselves, through the efforts of better-off fellow parishioners and the imposition of an annual rate. Every parish, or in some cases smaller units with their own separate administration, had its own share of poor and a varying ability or willingness to support them, although few parishes would care for the reputation of treating them particularly badly. However, this is a study not of why such support was needed (including the particular local needs), nor of how it was achieved (the particular social or economic circumstances), but how local needs could be met at least approximately in the provision of food, clothing and accommodation.

Four parishes (Chapel Allerton, Butleigh, West Bradley and High Littleton) and two self-governing chapelries (Chilton Polden and Edington) are at the heart of this study. It would have been helpful if some attempt had been made to indicate how typical, or otherwise, they were. The first three, for instance, were predominantly pastoral; at High Littleton there was significant coal mining; and at Chilton and Edington important turf-cutting. Whether such circumstances produced greater or lesser difficulties in the face of well-known national food crises of the time is surely significant, but perhaps not much to the purpose if it is the minutiae of daily life that are really the focus of interest. And the details are many. Housing, household goods, food, fuel, clothes, medical care, funerals, bastardy and pauper apprentices are all given the minute consideration one might expect from someone who has been professionally involved in the more modern plight of the under-privileged. The case study of a single family’s experience is particularly illuminating.

It is a pity that the index is limited to family names, for many other places, not only in Somerset, are mentioned in the text and ought to be easily retrievable. Quotations from contemporary knowledgeable writers are a welcome addition; the line drawings create suitable atmosphere.

Robert Dunning wrote the histories of Chilton Polden and Edington for volume VIII of the Victoria History of Somerset (2004) and edited those of West Bradley and Butleigh for volume IX (2006).

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By Malcolm Hislop

(Pen & Sword 2024 xii+282pp ISBN 978-1-399-011-10-6) £28

In his introduction, Malcolm Hislop sets out the rationale for this guide: ‘A selection has to be made, but the sites listed here include the most informative examples, and represent the broad sweep of development that took place over 450 years. The castles have been chosen for architectural and archaeological significance, or their accessibility, or indeed both’. His book features nearly 400 sites but does not include the artillery forts of the sixteenth century. In fact, is this intended as a browser for the armchair enthusiast or a practical gazetteer? If the latter, it would have been helpful to know exactly how much the visitor could see or visit at the castles marked ‘Private’ in the book. Sensibly, the author lists castles by county at the end; it could be argued that it might have been more useful to the traveller to have laid out the whole text in that format. As long ago as 1973, Frederick Wilkinson produced his Castles of England, which also had a helpful glossary of terms and (admittedly) an alphabetical listing; but it also provided a series of county maps with the castle sites marked thereon. James Forde-Johnston’s A Guide to the Castles of England and Wales (1981) not only dealt with them by county but also had a series of regional maps. Maps would have been a very useful addition to Hislop’s volume.

Nearly all this reviewer’s favourites are here: Ashby de la Zouch, Corfe, Middleham, Nunney, Old Wardour and Stokesay. I looked in vain for Richmont, tucked away in woodland near East Harptree in Somerset, which played a part in the Anarchy and is now a scheduled monument. But the author has painstakingly unearthed several castles I had never heard of, some of them as ruined and hard-to-find as Richmont and others mere pele towers. The detail for each castle is, inevitably, varied. For instance, Alnwick, Corfe, Dover, Ludlow, Middleham and Warkworth get solid and extended coverage, whilst it is good to read more than a few lines on such less well-known sites such as Somerton, Stogursey, Tickhill and Whittington.

The fourteen colour plates are striking enough but one wonders what was the criterion for choosing them? The black and white photographs scattered through the text are a weakness of the book; far too many appear to have been taken on a cloudy day and are rather dull. The bibliography rather unnecessarily lists the English Heritage castle guidebooks, but the citing of sources in the main text, linking them to the bibliography, is helpful. Typically for Pen & Sword, the book is well put together, solidly bound and uses good quality paper.

Kenneth Hillier is a local historian in Leicestershire, who has also been fascinated by castles since boyhood. He has scores of the Ministry of Works, Department of the Environment and English Heritage booklets and over 50 books devoted to castles.

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By John Chandler

(Hobnob Press 2023 206pp ISBN 978-1-914407-60-4) £16.95

At first sight, referring to Swindon as a ‘Remarkable Town’ might seem to be stretching a point. As Chandler points out in his introduction, ‘Swindon is a place to be made fun of – clone town, crap town, handy town … somewhere to be rude about’. ‘Handy town’ indeed—the M4 and Great Western Railway line make it very ‘handy’ to get out of the place—but as a Swindonian I feel I can perhaps mock Swindon.

A quick flick through the book and a look at the contents, and my first thought was “here is yet another book about the railway”. How wrong I was: it has taken an outsider to show me that Swindon is actually quite remarkable. Trains, or at least the arrival of the railway, feature quite a lot, but this was the main reason for the town’s growth. The railway formed a large part of people’s identity, and that of the town, for most of the not-quite-150 years that the rail works were there. Most people living in Swindon knew someone—neighbour, friend, family member—who was ‘inside’. But it often felt as though Swindon had no history beyond that of the railway. Of course, the Romans came and went, their presence only noticed by many when Time Team appeared to do a ‘Big Dig’, but there always seemed to be a bit of a void between the Romans and the railways.

The first two chapters of the book correct this impression. Swindon is placed clearly in its landscape. While Chandler rightly suggests that the best view of the town is from the south, coming from Devizes—the town does stretch out before you—I always found the approach coming from London along the M4 gave one of the best views. Liddington Hill, an iron age hillfort, with its small clump of trees at one end, was a sign that you were almost home. It also told of a mythical past: lying next to Badbury, could this have been Mons Badonicus from the story of Arthur? If Swindon had nothing else, from the east side of the town you could look up and see the ‘castle’ and imagine. The hillfort does not get a mention, although its partner further along the ridge at Barbury does. If you care to look, these are evidence of the longer history of Swindon: Chandler does look and reminds us to do the same. There has been continuous occupation here, in small communities remembered in place-names, and these two chapters are an eyeopener. I wanted to know more: two chapters simply are not enough to cover those hundreds of years before the railway arrived. The Civil War and plague came and went: they had an impact on neighbouring towns to Swindon’s benefit, but is there more that could be told about this? Swindonians know of the old quarries in the town’s parks, but that they were being dug out so far back was unknown.

Five chapters take us from 1804 virtually up to date. Yes, we know the railways came and New Town grew up at the foot of Old Town, but these chapters put life into that story, introducing people and events I had not come across before: George Mantell and a dissenting academy in Newport Street; William Dunsford, the canal superintendent, who manipulated traffic on the canal to his advantage; the debate about the location of the railway and the works, which could have gone another way so Swindon would still be the town on the hill.

This is an updated and revised edition of Chandler’s book Swindon: history and guide, first published in 1992 by Alan Sutton. Quite a bit has changed since 1992, and this book records the changes since then, not least being a new library built in 2008 to replace the wooden hut that had been there for over forty years. The loss of the railway works brought a change not just to the industries of the town but also to Swindon’s architectural heritage. The Mechanics’ Institute and other important buildings have been allowed to deteriorate, and pictures show the sorry state they are now in. Gone are the days when a man of vision, David Murray John, a rare example of a councillor with foresight and appreciation of Swindon’s past, saved Lydiard House for the people of Swindon: Chandler rightly names him as one of Swindon’s folk-heroes. He is remembered in the name of a tower block which dominates the town centre, though I suspect many do not know why it was so named. More ironically another of the town’s heroes, Brunel, has a statue which, as Swindonians noticed early on, turns its back on the railway.

There are a few omissions which older Swindonians might notice. The original brick market was replaced by a ‘tent’, but it is a pity that a picture of the original building has not been included. The Baptist Tabernacle was torn down in 1978, the stone from its impressive façade being purchased by a local man, who hoped to use it as the front for a house he was planning. His plan was turned down and the council then purchased the stones with the intention of using them in a new development, which never happened. In 2009 the stones were placed in storage, and this presumably is where they remain. There is one iconic photo of the people at the works which sums up memories: the sound of the hooter and the stream of workers coming out of the entrances on their bikes to head home.

The last four chapters of Swindon Decoded take you on a tour of the town, to discover the places described in the first seven chapters, although current redevelopment in the town centre means that Fleming Way has been dug up, bus stops have moved and bus routes are diverted. You can turn it into a mystery tour: pick up a bus wherever you can and see which of the four routes you end up on. I hope John Chandler decides to publish another revised edition because he has have left me wanting more on the earlier centuries … and by then the council might have decided what to do with the Mechanics’ Institute, as once again plans are in discussion.

Lynda Pidgeon is a Swindonian, whose interest in Swindon’s history focuses on Lydiard House and Park. She is involved in the Friends of Lydiard Park’s ‘100 Wills Project’ and the Lydiard Archives, recording the history of people who lived in Lydiard Tregoze and Lydiard Millicent as well as members of the St John family who were lords of the manor. See www.friendsoflydiardpark.org.uk and www.thelydiardarchives.org.uk

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By Adrian Webb

(Harry Galloway Publishing 2023 lxxxii+145pp ISBN 978-1-862-410473) £34.95 from www.somersethistory.com

This is a rather curiously structured book from a prolific writer on various aspects of Somerset’s history. While its lengthy but descriptive title might give the impression that it was purely biographical, its contents are in fact primarily transcriptions of nineteen documents relating to several seventeenth-century Court of Chancery suits. These concern a dispute between George Browne esquire, of Wilton near Taunton in Somerset, and his brother-in-law Thomas Spigurnell over land, the office of clerk of Taunton Castle, and a marriage settlement. The transcripts take up about 120 pages of the book, which is also furnished with an introduction of about 40 pages establishing the background to the suits. Pedigrees, a chronology, a glossary, a dramatis personae, references, and indices make up the remainder of the book, and are helpful aids to a full understanding of the documents and of the tale told in the introduction.

The introduction provides a detailed study of Spigurnell’s life, where possible corroborating, from independent sources, biographical details given in the transcribed documents. Spigurnell was brought up by an ‘uncle’, Sir Henry Sambourne, who put him to study ‘physick’ under Dr John Palmer of Taunton. In 1648, Palmer became warden of All Souls’ College, Oxford, on the ejection of his royalist predecessor, and he arranged for Spigurnell, who had not taken to medicine, to be surveyor of the college lands. Spigurnell subsequently went to Clement’s Inn in London, where he trained as an attorney. In 1656 he married the daughter of a wealthy esquire of Wells, Somerset, making his home at Long Sutton in that county. His first wife died after a year of marriage, and it was then that he married Elizabeth Browne, George Browne’s sister. Not receiving the dowry he expected, Spigurnell took from Browne’s ailing mother a collection of documents relating to family holdings, including the patent for the office of clerk of the manor of Taunton Castle. This large manor belonged to the bishop of Winchester, and the clerk, in the role as steward, earned an income of over £100 a year. Spigurnell began to act as clerk in 1658.

Disputes over the inheritance of land were the mainstay of the early modern Court of Chancery, and of its lesser-known sibling, the Court of Requests, as those courts could address the equity of a situation, whereas the common law courts were limited by the strict rule of law, having, for example, little jurisdiction over those holding assets in trust, such as the executors of wills. What makes these suits of more than normal interest is that they concern not just the usual intra-familial rivalries but also the changes in fortune consequent on the 1660 restoration of the monarchy. Spigurnell was a supporter of parliament, acting as a surveyor of confiscated royalist estates, some of which in the Taunton area found their way into his own hands. The Brownes, despite being closet royalists, had held on to the clerkship of Taunton castle in 1648 when the manor taken from the bishop and sold to new owners, although some of their rights were disputed in Chancery. After 1660, Spigurnell found that many of the royalists whom he had alienated during the interregnum were anxious to sue for the return of their lands. He also lost the clerkship when the manor reverted to the bishop of Winchester, leaving him and Elizabeth and their three young children in a difficult financial position, especially as the marriage settlement was still outstanding.

Of particular interest among the transcriptions are two interrogatories on the part of Browne, and a series of answering depositions by local people, supporting Browne and disparaging Spigurnell, turning his overt support for the parliamentary faction into questions of his loyalty to the restored monarchy. Unfortunately, the witness statements on Spigurnell’s part have not survived, so those for Browne need, as the author admits, treating cautiously due to their inherent bias. The suits dragged on past Spigurnell’s death in 1663, eventually concluding in 1668, when the court ordered Browne to pay £370 to his sister, in return for which she would hand over all the documents taken by Spigurnell.

The book, which has been privately produced, contains a few typographical errors, although they do not detract from the content. Also, not being familiar with Somerset, I would have appreciated the inclusion of a map showing the main places mentioned in the text. For while those interested in Somerset’s history may be its primary readership, I would also recommend it to those unfamiliar with the county geography, including legal historians, and local historians generally, as it provides an excellent case study of the information which the records of the early modern equity courts can provide.

Mike Kipling is researching a DPhil in English Local History focussing on the trade and business practices of early modern Sussex, using the records of the Westminster equity courts as a major source.

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