Jesse Boothman

When I went to see ‘War Horse’ recently, I thought of Uncle Jesse, famously a stunt rider in early films and trainer of horses for the Yorkshire Hussars.  Last year, a fellow Boothman descendant had sent me some amazing photos of Great Uncle Jesse in WW1, training horses for the Front. The lovely Amanda Carter kindly wrote this guest piece for us and supplied these photos. If you haven’t been to see ‘War Horse’ yet – or read Michael Morpurgo’s brilliant novel – please do!

Amanda descends from Jesse Boothman, and my great grandad was his brother, Tom. Both boys were sons of William Boothman, originally a farmer from Barnoldswick, who ended up farming at Roundhay, Leeds.

Jesse took on quite a glamour, still being talked about decades later, on our side of the family.

Although we lost contact, us descendants ended up by some fluke, living a village or two apart and Amanda and I even went to the same school, at one point although again, a year or two apart, so we never knew eachother.

Incidentally, I don’t know if Amanda knows this, but one of my other great grandads, John Henry Thompson, raised hounds for the Bramham Hunt, in Ryther. This is a long way from Leeds where Jesse and Tom grew up. So a big coincidence. My Auntie Annie who died in her late 80s, had the stuffed head of a fox on her wall. She used to tell me the story of walking across our fields, one Sunday morning, wearing her best white dress ready for church, and seeing the hunt kill a fox right in front of her. They then ‘blooded’ her, and later presented her with its head. She was horrified – and still remembered it 80 odd years on, as the single most frightening moment of her life! She kept the head, though.  Must admit, my mum’s side of the family did not agree with hunting but they needed the money, so raised the hounds for the extra income.

Hope you enjoy Amanda’s piece as much as I did, and thanks again to Amanda!

You can visit her here.

www.carterscandles.co.uk

Guest Post by Amanda Carter

Jesse Boothman was born on a small farm in Roundhay, the youngest and smallest of 5 brothers. From the stories I have heard, none of the Boothman boys were short of charm, charisma and courage, Jess being no exception.

Jess worked on the family farm, he liked a drink, loved the military, hunting, point to pointing, showing horses and judging cattle at shows.  So it’s a bit of a mystery as to why, when his eldest brother John (Jack) died in 1913, Jess took over his pub,

The Nags Head, image courtesy Wikipedia Commons

The Nag’s Head in Chapel Allerton.  The pub had a more than interesting dark history involving highwaymen and body snatchers.  One evening, after the odd pint no doubt, Jess and his brothers decided to investigate the cellar below for evidence of a secret passage.  Carefully lifting the Yorkshire stone flags they discovered a small black door at one end with steps leading to yet another cellar below.  At the church end of the cellar was another door, behind which lay a vaulted passage with a stone slab part way along upon which lay human remains probably left by body snatchers!.  This tale was regaled over the bar of the Nag’s Head many a cold winter night!

Jess married Violet Atkinson in January 1914; unfortunately, the dark days of WW1 were already looming on the horizon.  Jess being very fond of the military (and the fact that you received free horse food) was already enlisted in the Yorkshire Hussar Territorials.  When war broke out that summer Jess was called up and sent to camp within a week.  His young wife Violet was left to manage the pub with their firstborn, Clifford, born in December 1914.

Jess had many talents but none greater than his riding ability. He was a tough, roughrider, a trick rider and there wasn’t a horse alive that he could not stay on!  He could split a lemon at full gallop with his sword, was champion tentpegger and was often used as stuntman for films.

Lord Harewood was the Commanding Officer of the Yorkshire Hussars, he and Jess had known each other through the Bramham Moor Hunt which hunted regularly across the Harewood Estate as well as through the territorials.  Lord Harewood was well aware of Jess’s amazing talent with horses and when Jess’s unit was sent to the Somme he wouldn’t allow Jess to go, instead sending him to Southampton to break in wild horses from the Argentinean prairies.  Some of the horses were so wild and unbreakable they had to be shot.  Jess and a small team of select men broke wild horses that had never been touched by human hand for the cavalry and to pull artillery.  It must have been a heartbreaking task, knowing what they were to face.  As men were killed on the front, Jess was again called to France twice more and twice more Lord Harewood pulled him back.   So Jess returned from the war to the Nag’s Head, however, always willing to take a chance Jess was caught by the local Police for after hours drinking. The Police station was next door to the pub though the Methodist Church always had the finger pointed at them for reporting him!

Still, life moved on well for Jess, he took a farm at Meanwood, where his second son Stanley was born and then moved to Spen Lane, eventually retiring to live his son Clifford at Holme Farm, Biggin where he rode to hounds at 80 yrs old on a thoroughbred stallion.  Even as an old man he was lithe and fit and could still jump on and off a galloping horse.

Links

Leodis, a photographic archive of Leeds

Secret Leeds

One Guy From Barlick, a comprehensive resource for anyone with Barnoldswick ancestors

Family Tree Magazine, February 2012

Just a quick heads-up for the knitters and the genealogists.

This month’s ‘Family Tree Magazine’ is running one I made earlier; ‘Skills for Life’, an article about our charity school ancestors.  This is a fraction of the stuff I stumbled on, but has plenty of interest in it for both knitters and family historians; I looked at the records of knitting and spinning schools, as well as the famous farm-based Knitting Schools of the Dales. Whilst researching for the book – and this article – I stumbled on a few of my ancestors, in York Grey Coats School, and also realised that the records described not only the poverty stricken kids admitted to these schools, but those substantial folk who stood as ‘sureties’ to them, often giving professions and addresses.

‘Family Tree’ magazine did their usual brilliant job with the layout and images. Always look forward to seeing what they do with my words.

I will say no more. You don’t want my spoilers!

Poacher's Graffiti, York Castle, 1830s

Apologies to descendents of George Debnam, who may stumble on this.   Not sure how I’d feel if this was my ancestor – yet it is one intriguing aspect to genealogy.You never really know what you’re going to find.

I wanted to find out more about the man my ancestor John Fisher was (allegedly) assaulted by, in January 1833. Was he really a poacher? And if he was… Was he just taking the odd one for the pot – or was he poaching large scale, to order?

It seems Debnam was a poacher and a bit more. He was even suspected of being in a notorious house-breaking gang, some of whom had been caught and transported for life. He and “Irish Bill” were only indicted on night poaching charges. Although found not guilty of assaulting my ancestor John Fisher (who seems to have sustained a broken arm in the assault), Debnam went on to assault another watcher with a hedge stake, and threatened more than one with a loaded gun. At these dates, if a poacher didn’t immediately put down his gun, that was a 14 year transportation sentence, right there. So Debnam’s short sentences and reduced sentences and not guilty verdict in our case,  are puzzling.

I went in search of Debnam, and found…this.

FURIOUS ASSAULT BY A POACHER
We have this week to record another of those lamentable occurrences arising out of the Game Laws…which happened on Tuesday last, near Shipton, about six miles from this city. On the afternoon of that day, George Lund, one of the watchers on Lord Downe’s estate, was out in a field…  He came up with two poachers, named Thomas Scruton and George Debnam; the latter presented a loaded gun, which was at full cock, over the gate at Lund, threatening to shoot him, but providentially, his resolution failed him in fulfilling this diabolical threat. Both the poachers, however, rushed upon him, and one of them knocked him down with a hedge stake, which cut him over the head in such a manner, as to render his removal to the County Hospital necessary. Mr Tindal, the head game-keeper, immediately came to this city and procured a warrant, which was placed in the hands of Mr Pardoe, superintendent of police for execution; but they have hitherto evaded detection … Our readers will remember that Lund had, last year, a narrow escape of his life, whilst following the same occupation. A gun was discharged from behind a bush, and shot off his thumb…William Hodgson was tried at the last assizes with intent to murder, but the evidence not being sufficient for conviction, he was acquitted of the charge.

The York Herald, Saturday, February 18, 1837

GEORGE DEBNAM (25) Indicted for misdemeanour, in having on the 14th of February at Skelton,  in the North Riding, feloniously assaulted and wounded George Lund… – Guilty.

The Hull Packet, Friday, March 17, 1837

The Leeds Mercury for the following day, has same report with “sentence deferred”.

GEORGE DEBNAM, convicted on an assault upon George Lund, gamekeeper to Lord Downe, was sentenced to three months’ imprisonment in the Castle.

The Sheffield Independent, Saturday, March 25, 1837

POACHING IN CASTLE HOWARD WOODS
In our last week’s Herald, we noticed the fact of two noted poachers being committed to York Castle, for poaching in Castle Howard woods, on 24th March . The following facts…have since come to our knowledge. It appears that late on the night in question, the watchers of the Earl of Carlisle had heard several reports of a gun and had laid in wait for the poachers, in the ‘Ox Pasture Wood’. They had not lain long before they came, three of them, close up, when the watchers sprung upon them, and captured two of them, the other person making his escape by taking to his heels. They took the two prisoners to the Castle, one of whom gave his name as John Sherwood, but his real name is George Debnam, and the other, William Trainer, alias “Irish Bill”, two well known characters of York. One of them had a gun in his possession, and from both were taken six pheasants, about 140 snares, and two game nets. The next day Mr Wilson, police officer, Malton, was sent for, and took them into custody…and…committed them to York Castle. They are believed to form part of a gang, four of whom were transported for life , at our last assizes, for the burglary at Old Byland, near Helmsley.

The York Herald, Saturday, April 6th, 1839

A LIST OF THE PRISONERS IN YORK CASTLE -
2 & 3 – JOHN SHERWOOD, whose real name is GEORGE DEBNAM, of York, and WM. TRAINER, alias “Irish Bill”, charged with night poaching on the 24th March last, in Ox Pasture Wood, the property of the Earl of Carlisle, in the township of Bulmer.

The Sheffield & Rotherham Independent, Saturday, July 06, 1839

NIGHT POACHING – John Sherwood (28) and Wm Tramer [sic] (27), pleaded guilty of night poaching near Castle Howard, on the 24th of March last; and were sentenced to be imprisoned one year each to hard labour.

The Bradford Observer, Thursday, July 18, 1839

John Sherwood who had been sentenced to twelve months’ imprisonment for poaching, was called up, and his Lordship, in consequence of the strong recommendations of his neighbours in his favour, reduced his sentence to imprisonment at hard labour for six months.

The Sheffield & Rotherham Independent, Saturday, July 27, 1839

Other Traces of George:

IGI: George Debnam married Elizabeth Bell, 18th September, 1832 at   Saint Margaret’s, York.

3 month conviction for assault recorded in the Criminal Registers. tried 4.3. 1837. Under “Degree of instruction” (ie: how well educated), he is only one on page that says “Well”.

1841 Census: Palmer Lane, St Saviour’s, York, occupation illegible – could be “porter2,, “painter” or “pauper”. Age 36. Wife, Eliza 34, and children Frederick 9, and Robert, 6.  Where born is “N” (ie: not in Yorkshire).

1851 Census: 15 Lowther St, St Crux, Elizabeth Debnam is a widow, 39 (only aged 5 years in a decade!) and gives her trade as ‘glover’. Sons Frederick and Robert are still with her, and two visitors, Dennis O’Mearra from Dublin, and George Epps from Maidstone, Kent.

There is a George Debnam of York in the death index for summer quarter, 1853. I am not sure if this is him. Possibly not, as Elizabeth claims to be a widow in 1851. However, he may have been transported, or disappeared, or been elsewhere under the name of Sherwood, or  another alias, so we can’t be entirely sure.

Oddly, there was a man called John Sherwood, born in 1806, in Bulmer, the very parish where Debnam poached on the Castle Howard estate. But this does appear to be an entirely separate person. Whether Debnam knew him and chose his name as a pseudonym, or it was just a huge coincidence, we can’t know.

I thought I had found everything there was to find, on John. After all, few 19thC farm labourers left much of a paper trail. I counted myself lucky to find his words at the December, 1833 inquest.

It turns out, searches of British Newspapers Online, are maybe less exact than I’d thought. Last night, I stumbled on another newspaper item from 1833, concerning John. I have done these same searches many times, but never found this til now.  I should say that in every census, and in parish records, John is simply down as ‘Labourer’ or ‘Agricultural Labourer’. Now I not only have more detail, I know at least one of his employers (and some of their records from this date exist), I found out his nickname, and best of all… Yet more of his own actual words.

“Committed to the Castle (ie: prisoners on remand in York Castle) – Richard Goodricke and Thomas Pearson, of Fulford, charged with unlawfully entering Moreby-wood, in the parish of Stillingfleet, armed with guns for the purpose of destroying game; and charged also with violently assaulting John Fisher and George Wrightson, gamekeepers to Henry Preston, Esq., of Moreby Hall.”

The York Herald, Saturday, January 12, 1833

There were two major landowners round here; Henry Preston, and Paul Beilby-Thompson. The victims of the Stillingfleet tragedy in 1833 had their funeral paid for by the latter. Preston was mired in a rather vituperative dispute about paying tithes at this time, and at loggerheads with David Markham, the Stillingfleet vicar. Knowing John Fisher was a church singer, great grandson of a former parish clerk with close ties to the church, I guessed John was more likely to be employed on the Thompson estate, than the Prestons’.

Preston was famous locally for having a stove installed in his pew in the church. If the vicar got boring or his sermon went on too long – he’d poke the fire vigorously. In the1830s, Preston had enough of being robbed of a tenth of his considerable income by the church (landowners still paid tithes then), and started bombarding relevant authorities with a petition to have his tithes reduced. David Markham became the enemy.

Moreby Wood was close to the river, and coincidentally, it was from Henry Preston that the Turners had stolen roofing lead, a couple of years earlier. John Turner was to die that Boxing Day night on the river in 1833. His brothers had been found Not Guilty of stealing the lead, despite it being found in their boat and there being witnesses. Preston was a JP and one of the most powerful men in Yorkshire. Yet it seemed hard for anyone to be convicted of anything on his land – maybe because the law had to be seen to be impartial, so Preston, who often headed the county’s Grand Jury, had to step away from involvement in cases where he was victim.

In other words: being a gamekeeper for Preston would be a dangerous job in the 1830s.  The Preston estate, like the Thompsons’, had a Head gamekeeper, under keeper, and several reliable local labourers would be employed as watchers. These would be men who were loyal, handy with a gun, could lay (and spot) traps, track, were observant, etc. They’d come and go from the gun rooms and servants’ halls, so they had to be trustworthy.  It says a lot for John and Richard that they were employed as Preston’s watchers.

Gamekeepers were occasionally murdered in the course of their work.  In 1835, Thomas Robinson, the keeper at nearby Kexby, on land also owned by Beilby-Thompson, was found lying face-up on a rabbit warren, with his throat cut from ear to ear. Robinson had his double barrelled shotgun with him when he set out at 4.a.m.  The magistrate who handled the case initially was none other than Henry Preston Esq., himself. Robinson’s gun was found half a mile away, as it was customary for gamekeepers to lay down their guns if pursuing poachers. Brits generally, not just farmers, poachers and keepers, in the 1830s, were armed.  We forget that, sometimes. It had been a time of unrest.

Thomas Summers, the head keeper at Moreby, lived in the same stand of cottages in Stillingfleet as John; they were called “Who’d Have Thought It”. This suggests to me that maybe Preston, not Beilby-Thompson as I had assumed, built that now lost stand of cottages.

How do I know the assault victim is ‘my’ John Fisher? In 1833, there were three John Fishers in Stillingfleet. My grt X 4 grandfather, John Fisher Sr, born 1764 so a bit elderly to be gamekeeper, at nearly 70 years of age (also, he lived in Kelfield); John Fisher born 1793, who was brother to my Great X 3 grandma, Mary Fisher; and John’s son, another John, who was only 15. This is how I am certain these are the words of my ‘favourite’ ancestor, the middle John Fisher. The case took 3 months to come to trial. Sessions were quarterly, so this is about the maximum wait on remand the poachers could have had. Fulford is now a suburb of York, on the outskirts.

Moreby Hall was one of the houses the Church Singers visited that night, 11 months after this incident, and the last place they sung before getting into that ill-fated little boat and rowing back upriver. On the same boat,  Turner, whose brothers and nephew had tried to steal Preston’s roofing lead; and Fisher and Toes, who watched Prestons’ woods occasionally. It must have made for an interesting atmosphere. Richard Toes was to be one of the three survivors of the disaster, along with John and George Eccles.  Toes was the man who survived because he was tangled up in the rope, with John. Seems the night on the Ouse wasn’t their first brush with death, out Moreby way.

“THURSDAY MARCH 14th

NIGHT-POACHING AT STILLINGFLEET

RICHARD GOODRICKE, (aged 30), of Fulford; Thomas Pearson (46) of the same place; and George Debnam of Walmgate, York,  were charged with entering an enclosed ground, (the property of Henry Preston., Esq., of Moreby), in the night-time, armed with guns, with intent to destroy game.

MR. DUNDAS and MR.BLANSHARD were counsel for the prosecution: MR COTTINGHAM appeared for Goodricke and Debnam, and MR.MILNER for Pearson.

[One counsel raises an objection about the wording of the indictment. Judge over-rules him, and the case begins].

John Fisher (examined by Mr. BLANSHARD).

I am an occasional watcher of game to Henry Preston., Esq., of Moreby Hall. I was out on the 3rd of January last, about half past one in the morning, along with  Richard Toes.  We went to the fields until we got into a field called the Willow Nooks. We then heard a strange dog making a weft, and the noise of two or three men walking on the road. A dog came into the field, went back again,  and returned into the field after a hare. He was a dark-coloured dog, with a white rim around his neck.  I heard a man say: “D__n you; I did not want you to bring that dog; I knew we would have some trouble with him.” The dog did not catch the hare.  When he returned to the road, they either struck or bunched* him, and he yelled.  I saw the men, who were three in number, pass along the road. Toes went to call Wrightson, the keeper, up, and I took myself to Mr. Gill’s stack-yard, about 200 yards from the Long Rush. I did not see the men go into the wood, but he and the dog gave two wefts. I then heard men walking in the wood, amongst the leaves.  It was very frosty. I then heard some wood pigeons or stockdoves rise.  I went to meet Toes and Wrightson, and heard 4 or 5 shots in the Long Rush. I ran to Wrightson and Toes, and Toes was sent back for more assistance. Long Rush has game in it. Wrightson and I went easily on the road, until we met three men. I asked ‘Where have you been, and what have you got?’ One of them said boldly, a hare.’ Debnam was the man who held the hare by her legs. This was 4 or 500 yards from the Long Rush. They had two dogs with them; one of whom was the dog I had seen in the field. I clicked Debnam by the collar, and one of them said, D__n thee, let that dog loose, both dogs seized me by the heels and I kicked them off.  I hit one of them over the ear with a short stick.  I kept hold of Debnam and threw him on his back on the hedge. He got hold of my comfortable [scarf?] and tried to twitch it. I heard Wrightson call out: ‘Fish, fish, Oh! fish!’ I knew by that that he was done. I looked; and saw him on the ground; the men had left him, and he was trying to get up like a drunken man, but could not. I immediately received a blow over my shoulder from Goodricke, with the barrel of a gun. I cried out:  ‘We’ll let you go!’ , and Wrightson said in a feeble way, ‘Aye, we’ll let them go!’  I did not see that they had guns when they came up; I did not know the third man, he had a light-coloured coat on;  it was a moonlight morning; Escrick clock struck two just before the men entered Long Rush.

Cross-examined by Mr. COTTINGHAM – The wood is about three hundred yards long, and 60 or 70 wide.

George Wrightson (by Mr. DUNDAS) I am under-keeper to Mr.Preston. Toes called me up on the third of January last, and I took a stick and a double-barrelled gun with me. We met Fisher, and I sent Toes back; Fisher and I went on the road, until we came to near Willow Nook Close, where we met three men: one of them had a hare, and there were two dogs with them; I said: ‘Halloo! what are you about?’  One of them said: ‘Nothing. We have no guns. ‘ I said: ‘You must have something.’  Fisher said: ‘You have got a hare.’ and made a grab at the man who had it; I did not know the man; I knew the other two by sight, Goodricke and Pearson; Goodricke had a broad-brimmed hat on, a drab top-coat, woollen corded breeches and leggings.  Pearson had a light-coloured coat, fustian trousers, and half-boots on. One of the men said: ‘D–n thee, let that dog loose!’  The dogs were at that time in bands, they were loosed, and one of them was set on Fisher. I laid down my gun, and seized a man, I was knocked down, but got up again. Goodricke struck me over the forehead with a stick. I then got the gun and told them to stand back, or take what followed; as I was laying the gun down again, Goodricke threw a hare into my face, which caused me to stagger. Pearson then had my gun up, ready to strike.  Goodricke struck me again with a stick and said ‘D__n thee for a fool, use that gun’. Pearson had hold of the muzzle; he struck me over the head, and broke the gun. I cried out ‘Spare my life’ and he kept repeating his blows, till I was covered with blood. Fisher led me home, where I arrived about a quarter  to three. It was a fine moonlight morning.

CROSS-EXAMINED by Mr. MILNER – The first time I saw Pearson, was when he was letting the dogs loose on Fisher….”

[The next witness is Naburn farmer, and watcher for gentleman, Mr. Palmes, Newark Hargrave, who says he was in his garden at 2 a.m.,  when he saw four men with 2 dogs and 2 guns.  He identifies Goodricke and Debnam and describes the black and white dog. He saw them heading for Stillingfleet and suspcious, he followed them. Losing sight of them, he went to Moreby, to wake up Summers, the head gamekeeper. ...]

“…He and I went to the gun-room, where we met with Fisher with his arm let down, and Wrightson, who was bleeding. Summers got two horses out of the stable, and he and I set off for Fulford…”

[In Fulford, they hide opposite Goodricke's house and watch til 6am, when Goodricke showed, with another man, from the direction of Moreby. Goodricke went into his house an a minute or two later, Debnam appeared, who they captured, after a fight. They took him to a public house, where he was held whilst Hargrave watched Goodricke's house, seeig only Goodricke leaving at 9am.

Goodricke and Debnam’s brief, Cottingham, then tried to suggest Hargrave did not know the names of the three men, and couldn’t swear to them. Hargrave says he could swear to the name of all three. But a Mr Baron Gurney interjects and tells the judge that Hargrave only actually ID’d Goodricke and “another man”.

Next witness is Thomas Summers, head gamekeeper to Mr. Preston. Summers describes the watch he and Hargrave kept on Goodricke’s house. They hid in a blacksmith’s shed, opposite. He positively identifies Goodricke but says he only thinks Pearson was the other.  Summers was about to go to the magistrates for a warrant when he saw the others arrest Debnam as he was armed. Summers examined the gun and said it had been fired that morning. He says although he didn’t name Pearson at the time and Pearson wasn’t arrested til the 7th January (4 days later) when he was taken into Wrightson’s chamber so Wrightson could ID him (this suggest how injured Wrightson was, that he was still in bed 4 days on).

The next witness is Joseph Smith, footman to Mr Palmes, who was driving Mr Palmes’ barouche back home, at by Naburn Lock on the night in question, saw 4 men with 2 dogs (again, the mysterious 4th man who was never brought to court). Smith said: ‘ I knew one of them; it was Richard Goodricke, whom I had known some considerable time.’

The three accused do not take the stand as “No-one was seen in the woods”, their counsels say. They also say there is no evidence against any of the men.

Next witness to take the stand is policeman, Richard Thompson, who says he saw Pearson (who was Goodricke’s neighbour and there was a communicating door inside their houses)  stagger home drunk on the evening of the 2nd January. Pearson claimed to the police his gun was owned by ‘Captain Wemyss’ and he was getting it repaired for him.

Next witness, is William Hallett. Here the story takes a turn for the crazy. He says at 6am on the morning of 3rd January, he and Goodricke’s brother Simeon, went to Goodricke’s house. Simeon had a dog and looked remarkably like Richard.  As Simeon and Hallett sat in the house, there was a ‘rush’ at the door, and Richard Goodricke shotued for someone to wake up Pearson next door, so they could leg it.  They took a shovel (weapon?) and were last seen running down the street being pursued along with Debnam. Simeon was, at the time of trial, himself in Beverley House of Correction…

Following witness is a farm servant, Richard Scaife, who swears Hargrave told him he couldn’t swear to any of the men who’d been at Preston’s. A mysterious ‘John Brown of Fulford’ says Hargrave told him he couldn’t be sure if Goodricke was there or not. Debnam’s witness is his sister in law, Susan Machen, who claims she was in his house on the night of 2nd January as his wife was about to give birth, and Debnam came in at 9 pm on the 2nd, and didn’t leave the house again to 5am on that morning.  ‘He went out at half past five with a gun’. Yet, oddly, the next witness, Susan’s husband Henry Machen, says Debnam went to bed ‘at ten’. And left the house the following morning at eleven…

Mr. DUNDAS sums up saying the evidence against Pearson is too weak. And Goodricke looked too much like his brother for anyone to be sure whether it was him or not (conveniently forgetting to mention that witnesses mentioned 4 men on the road from Fulford to Moreby, so there was scope for Simeon and Richard to be there).  He says Debnam’s alibi is backed up by Mrs Machen’s account (conveniently missing out that Mr Machen’s account contradicted both!)

The Jury retired and took all of 25 minutes to return with a verdict of NOT GUILTY.

I will let you come to your own conclusions, gentle reader, but would it be bad if I pointed out that in April 1834, Richard Goodricke, and his witness, William Hallett, were found Guilty of night-poaching on the lands of neighbouring toff, Bielby-Thompson… (also the local MP) and the apparently well known “gang of poachers”, including Hallett, were given six months hard labour at Beverley House of Correction.  Goodricke, as ringleader…. got a year. In 1841, both Simeon and Richard Goodricke were caught night poaching on the grounds of Lord Wenlock (Escrick) and this time pleaded Guilty.

*’bunched’ = bunch of fives?

For the knitters. I’m guessing John’s ‘comfortable’ was what later got called ‘comforter’, ie: scarf. The Shorter OED has “comforter” as “A long woollen scarf worn around the throat. 1833″ John uses the word ‘comfortable’ in 1833. OED does not have ‘comfortable’ as an alternative, but that has to be what it is!

Image: ‘The Dog-Breaker’, from George Walker’s ‘Costumes of Yorkshire’. Available on disk from: http://www.yorkshireancestors.com/

Adderbacks prototype

A few people have asked where they can find the pattern for the Adderback gloves, that featured in ‘Yarn Forward’, some time back.  They’re here. Apologies for the amateur photography – I don’t have the rights to reproduce the professional photo shoot, so rather than seeing lovely models wearing these you can see my favourite chair…

The Adderbacks came about after a visit to the Dales Countryside Museum, in Hawes.  I wanted to recreate Dales’ style gloves but… should I say the phrase ‘dumbed down’, here?  Dales gloves but dumbed down. I simplified them to make them a faster knit. Some of the originals have over 100 sts cast on. I like gloves, but I don’t want to spend my life knitting just gloves so…    4 ply yarn would be more in keeping with the tradition , or even 2 ply Jamieson and Smiths, or Jamiesons of Shetland’s ‘Spindrift’ would be nice, and also maybe more traditional. But I went for DK in the end again, for a faster knit. Also, the past two winters here have been incredibly cold and snowy, and thicker gloves seemed like a good idea at the time. And so they proved to be. When the snow came again, they did their job.

If you want to change down to finer wool, you will need to swatch, and maybe end up adding in a pattern repeat. Jane Austen, once asked why she didn’t dot the is and cross the ts for her readers, said : ” ‘I do not write for such dull Elves/ As have not a great deal of Ingenuity themselves.’” And that is how i feel about knitting. If you’re reading this and thinking of knitting these, and think the DK is too heavyweight for your needs – you’re already intelligent and can do the maths to make it work.

Another difference between my version and the originals is that they often had one pattern on the back of the hand, and a simpler, filler style pattern on the palm. I opted for all-round lightning.

Although this pattern is traditionally called ‘lightning’ (and similar to the ‘marriage lines’ you find commonly as a gansey motif); I decided to call the modern spin ‘adder-backs’ – as it reminds me of the zigzag patterns on adders.  Lightning was a favourite Victorian motif. Emily Bronte went to Leeds and horrified her family by returning with a mauve fabric with a lightning print on, she made up into a dress for herself.

Initials and year were often knitted into the gloves. You can find alphabet charts online, or in various books about traditional knitting.  I thought laterally, and used the embroiderers’ alphabet chart found in ‘A Scholehouse for the Needle’. Here, my initials were 7 rounds deep. This is an incredibly small canvas to get an initial knitted onto. Gansey intials often give you twice that number of rounds for initialling. Lettering on extant Dales’ gloves is surprisingly economic on space and yet, works well. The earliest dated gloves, now with the Wordsworth Trust at Grasmere,  bear the legend: “G.Walton, 1846″. The large case letters are also only 7 rounds high; the small case, 5.

I have put up my own intials chart as a guideline, for spacing. You are not “dull elves” so can figure out your own.

For the genealogists, I’ve recently been tracing some of my Dales ancestors – mainly farmers with the odd lead miner/farmer for variation. There are the Boothmans of Barnoldswick and the Coates in Wigglesworth, and Waterhouses who were masons in Arthington, nearer Leeds. A further delve into the Coates line gave me a couple of new names – both farming families in Wigglesworth, too, including the direct line ancestor (yet another farmer) with a rather good name;  Lawrence Lawson. Lawrence is one of my sons’ middle names and I always wondered why that randomly popped into my head! Other Dales ancestors include the Westmorland Stephensons and Bellas family. Coates and Stephenson families are both mentioned in ‘Old Hand-Knitters of the Dales’ as ‘known’ families with knitting connections. But I am told that some of my Dales’ surnames such as my greatX2 grandma’s name, Alderson,  are so common up there, people with them were given prefixes, so everyone could tell the different branches apart!

Anyway, in homage to anyone with Dales ancestry, here are the Adderbacks.

ADDERBACK GLOVES

MEASUREMENTS FOR ONE-SIZE
Hand is approximately 8″ across palm.
If you want to make larger, use the larger size needles – experiment with tension first.

YARN
Wensleydale Longwool Sheep Shop DK
2 balls
Shades used here: Moonlight, [purple]
Or any 2 strongly contrasting colours. Above, I used a blue and natural cream.

Test knit in progress

Main colour = MC (Moonlight)
2nc colour = CC (Purple)

TENSION
7 st = 1″  9 rows = 1″

NOTIONS
2.5 and 2.75mm DPNS, or circular needles if doing magic loop

Stitch markers
Etc

PATTERN

With needles of choice, CO 56 stitches using CC.

Purl 1 round using CC
Knit  1 round using MC

Then, alternate colours 1 X 1 rib for 2″

K 2 rows CC
K 5 rows MC
In MC,  K7, M1 [65 sts]

K Chart A (7 rounds)
K 3 rounds MC

Change to larger needles. K pattern Chart B (6 rows)
Knit 2 rounds MC

Establish Thumb Gusset.
Before starting thumb gusset, ensure the lettering is centred – date is underside of hand, initials the top.

For left glove, establish thumb  in the stitches directly above the end of your final letter , and before start of first digit of date(should be start of round).

For right glove, establish thumb above the stitches between first letter of initials and final digit of date).   Basically, you just need to place the thumbs in the spaces between lettering/digits!

To Make Thumb Gusset
M1 Purlwise, M1 Knitwise, M1 Purlwise

These 2 Purls will mark where your thumb begins and ends. Maintain them as P stitches in every round.  For thumb, make 2 increases every 3rd round, 1 after 1st Purl, 1 before last Purl.  Keep increasing inside the P stitches every 3rd round, til you hit 13 sts inside the 2 Ps.  Knit thumb in hit and miss st.  I find it looks best if the Ps are in the MC, but do what looks best to you!

When you have 13 sts between the 2 Ps [15 st], leave thumb gusset sts on waste yarn, til you are ready to come back and knit up thumb.  For second glove’s thumb, remember to mirror first glove, insert thumb so that your initials will face up, date face down.

Whilst starting thumb gusset, knit main body of glove, using Chart C , til glove reaches base of your fingers. Place on waste yarn.

To Complete Thumb
Knit existing 15 stiches (now K those 2 Ps) and pick up 11 [26st].  Knit in hit n miss til you reach full length of thumb.
Shape thumb top:
Round 1: K2 tog to end of round, continuing in patt.
Round 2: K1, K2 tog to end of round, continuing in patt.
Break yarns, thread through remaining sts and fasten off.

To divide for fingers: centre the first finger over the thumb.

Finger 1
Ensure the centre of your sts for Finger 1 are above the thumb.
16st and M7, [23 st]
Work in hit n miss until you hit top of your fingernail in length.
Shape Top
Round 1: K 2 tog to end of round, K1
Round 2: K2 tog to end of round
Break yarns, thread through remaining sts and fasten off.

Finger 2
Pick up 16 sts from waste yarn.  Between Fingers 1 and 2,  pick up 5 sts. Between fingers 2 and 3, Make 4 sts [25st].
Work in hit n miss until you hit top of your fingernail in length.
Shape Top as for Finger 1.

Finger 3
Pick up 18 stitches from waste yarn.  Between Fingers 2 and 3, pick up 3 sts.  Between Fingers 3 and 4, M 2 [23sts].
Work in hit n miss until you hit top of your fingernail in length.
Shape Top as for Finger 1.

Finger 4
Pick up remaining 15 sts.  Pick Up 6 sts between Fingers 3 and 4. [21 sts].
Work in hit n miss until you hit top of your fingernail in length.
Shape Top as for Finger 1.

Chart A

Charts B, C and Thumb

And finally… how many yarn shops do you go into where you can look out of the windows and see the donators of the clip that went to make your ball of wool?  You can do that up near Leyburn at the Wensleydale Longwool Sheepshop. Breed specific yarns are a wonderful thing, and making a bit of a resurgence of their own. Another supplier of great British breed specific yarns, are Blacker Yarns.

Had a great time yesterday at the Harrogate Knitting and Stitching Show, and now I’m all spent out.  I was sad to hear of the demise of the 5 ply gansey wool, sold by Wingham’s down in South Yorkshire, but did manage to find a supplier of something very interesting.  Over in Saddleworth, woolyknit.com are producing a range of yarns including some navy blue 4 ply which should knit up into something approximating to some of the finer, traditional ganseys that can be found in museums round the coastline.  Woolsack were completing their epic quest, to craft 40 cushions using British Wool, over the Harrogate weekend and best news of all – this year we didn’t get snowed in after the show, and have a 5 3/4 hour crawl back the 20 miles from Harrogate (or ‘Arreget’ as I prefer to call it) to York. The overall message I came away with was to celebrate and support British wool.
I will leave you with the Longwool Sheepshop’s Wensleydales, in the fond hope some of you may enjoy knitting Adderback gloves to match your mauve lightning print frocks.

“Mary Murray, an Irishwoman, aged 30, was indicted for stealing a woollen frock, and other articles, as books, shoes, a comb, and various small groceries, the property of Jeremiah Long, mariner.

Jeremiah Long deposes that he lodges at Mr. Metcher’s, in Westgate-street; on Saturday night the 26th of June he locked up his room and went away till Monday morning, when he returned  at about seven o’clock on that morning, he found, on entering the room, a window open; two Guernsey frocks, a lot of grocery things, three books, a pair of shoes, and other things had been stolen.

From the evidence of Jonathon Fisher, it appeared that at a quarter before six o’clock in the morning, the prisoner was sitting on the Itchen side of the ferry, when the prisoner offered him a woollen frock and a pair of shoes for sale. She wanted ninepence for the frock, and he gave her sixpence for it.  She offered him other things for sale. At twelve o’clock the prisoner was seen drunk in St Michael’s square with the books, offering them for sale. A policeman apprehended her for drunkenness, in the High-street, with the books on her, and in her bosom, some mustard, pepper, salt and other things.

The prisoner in defence told a long story of coming from Titchfield on the morning of the 28th of June, and at the ferry meeting with a young sailor,  who looked respectable, and addressing her said he was hard up and ashamed to sell his things himself, and employed her to do it, and she accounted to him for the proceeds. He gave her the books and the grocery for herself. She got her living by selling knitted caps, and knew nothing of the prosecutor; but she said that it was very unlikely that she should come into the town to sell articles stolen in it. She delivered herself with great volubility and propriety of language’ intermingling the whole with protestations of innocence.

Verdict, Guilty. Sentence six months’ imprisonment and hard labour, the last week, solitary.”

From ‘The Hampshire Advertiser & Salisbury Guardian’ (Southampton), Saturday, July 10th, 1847

Image Credit: “Portsmouth Point”, by Thomas Rowlandson, 1811

See a gansey in the 1811 Rowlandson print above? Me, neither!

Miss Ryder's 1860's child's sock

Have had a knitting filled week or two; from documenting the 1846 Dales glove up in Grasmere, to figuring out how to knit an 1860′s child’s stripey sock, to putting the finishing touches to our inland waterways ganseys and Yorkshire Dales knitting projects for the book. I’m even dreaming in knitting at the moment. That’s how bad (good?) it is.

The interest in Victorian stripes started when researching, last year, I started looking for references to non standard blue, cream or grey ganseys, in the 19thC newspapers. This shocking crime near Thirsk struck me as maybe responsible for the origins of the mythic Burglar Bill in his stripey jumper with swag bag and face mask:

“DARING BURGULARY

“…It appears that the house was forcibly entered by three men, armed with pistols and long pointed knives; one of the men was very broad set, dressed in a Guernsey frock, with stripes across the body… the other two ere similarly dressed….”

AND:

The York Herald, and General Advertiser (York, England), Saturday, July 18, 1840

[Robbery and assault of toll bar keeper nr Ripley. From victim's testimony - Wm Stubbs]

“….’The men had on tan or flesh coloured masks, striped jackets, and woollen caps that came on to the topf of their masks. ….’
Witness George Bradfield describes them:

‘..They were dressed in short, striped frocks,…’

“Thomas Ellington Collinson, police officer, Boroughbridge, produced the guernsey frocks which were taken from the prisoners  in London when they were apprehended…..”

And this from Liverpool:

“On Sunday morning, the body of a man unknown was found floating in the river. not far from the Seacombe Slip. He had on blutcher boots, blue worsted stockings, with a striped Guernsey-frock…”

Liverpool Mercury etc (Liverpool, England), Friday, May 29, 1846

Sadly, I’ve found suicides, dead sailors, and sailors committing crimes to be the most fertile ground for finding descriptions of 19thC ganseys. Some of the ganseys are less conservative than we’d imagine.
I dug a bit deeper in search of the 19thC stripe.

Stripey knitting is nothing new.  It’s always been a good way to stretch a favourite colour, and a thrifty way to use up odds and ends.

Under the heading “LABRADOR NEEDS”,  The anonymous writer of a booklet with patterns for the Royal National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, solicited various items of clothing, and yarn to be made into useful comforts for the fishermen:

“Woollens and wool – odds and ends will be manufactured into garments cheerfully; the fisherman does not mind his guernsey being one of many colours – short lengths might be joined together, lest they go astray…”

(Given the list of patrons, the book is Edwardian, and wrongly dated at 1800 in the Richard Rutt collection of digitised knitting manuals, here).

We now think of ganseys as having been blue, or cream or grey for Sunday best. But some of them most have put Joseph’s Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat to shame! The American Civil War Soldier’s hood knitted from odd lengths of various yarns on p 47 of Susan Strawn’s “Knitting America” demonstrates this tendency, in extremis, for knitters to work with oddments and knit stripes.  In his seminal ‘Glorious Colour’, back in the 1980s, Kaffe Fassett documented how his first efforts at colourwork were also stripes. And as sophisticated as his colourwork got, he still reserved a section of the book for stripes and how to knit them well.

In ‘ How To Knit Socks’, by Miss E. Ryder of Richmond, Yorkshire, ca. 1860′s Miss Ryder mentions stripes and advises:

“The chief things to be remembered in knitting stripes: – to commence your sock, after ribbing the top, with a fresh colour, to bring your stripe right so as to commence the heel with a fresh colour – to take up stitches at the side of the heel with the same colour as you commenced the heel, thus bringing your stripes right across the foot…”

She suggested mauve and white, or scarlet and grey as good colour combinations. I found many mentions of this latter pairing.  Often they seem to have striped a natural colour like cream or grey with a vividly dyed colour, usually scarlet or blue.

Grimsby Football team, 1878

Any excuse to link to the lovely Mr Laing must, of course, be exploited. His stripes, like many Victorian stripes, appear to have been quite narrow and very uniform. Sports clothing is one obvious place to find early stripes. The Grimsby team from 1878 may well have had a mix of hand and machine knit jerseys, given the non uniformity apparent in the whole-team shot. Grimsby, of course, would not be short of competent fine gauge hand knitters.

So stripes were good for tennis and football, in the mid 19thC. Something about stripes said “Sporty!” Cricket jumpers were not yet the V neck white cabled things we expect them to have been, and I have seen an early shot of a local cricketer, wearing what looks remarkably like a late 19thC cycling jersey. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if stripes didn’t crop up there, too.

When I asked on Ravelry about stripes in old knitting, some kind person linked to the Met Museum’s rather splendid stripey stocking. It may well be frame knit, but it’s still fascinating to look at.

When you knit stripes in the round (far more elegant and satisfying than trying to knit them flat), you discover that annoying little jog at the start and end of your round. The Victorians got round this neatly, by purling a seam st (or two sts next to eachother)  every round or every alternate round, like in my first pic here. This totally masks the jog. Contemporary knitters do some magic called a ‘jogless join’, for which you can find numerous good tutorials online. I found the jogless join not neccessary when I knitted Miss Ryder’s stripey sock, as she tells you to purl at the back seam each round and, as you can see, that sorts the dilemma.

The child’s socks in the 1860  William W. Nichol painting ‘Quiet’ was my starting point for the next ‘Knitting Genie’ article. We have permission from York Museums Trust to reproduce the painting and also a detail of the sock,  for knitters who’d appreciate, in trainspotterly fashion, a really good close up of some well painted 19thC knitting – you are urged to look out for the christmas edition of ‘Knit’. The painting is currently hanging in York Art Gallery, for anyone who’d like to see it in the flesh. Miss Elizabeth Ryder’s several 1860s’ books on How To Knit Socks (and Stockings), which I used to help recreate the child’s sock, can be found here.  It was quite appropriate, finding an 1860′s Yorkshirewoman’s child’s sock pattern, to go with this 1860 painting. I think the pattern will pop up on Knit’s blog, at some point in the not entirely distant future. The Knitting Genie about the sock should be in the xmas ‘Knit’.

"Flora Campbell's cardigan", back view

My first ever piece of traditional knitting wasn’t a gansey. It was ‘Miss Flora Campbell’s cardigan’,  a 1930 Fair Isle cardigan, the pattern worked out in the classic (soon to be re-published!) ‘Traditional Knitting’, by Michael Pearson.

Pearson’s book came out in 1984, and I must have clocked it within weeks of it landing in our library.  A month went past, then another, then a few more and I realised I had this book out on almost permanent loan. And despite it being the 80s, and us being unemployed and broke, and sometimes if we bought books, we didn’t buy food that week… when I saw it in paperback, in Smiths, I swooped. I probably lived on sardines and pitta bread that week. But who cared? I had the Book.

Now I think of it, this was the first knitting book I ever bought.  Which is why I was thrilled when I heard on the grapevine,  Mr. Pearson is working on a new edition.   This cardigan was to be the first thing I knitted from this book. It must have been knitted in 1985. As you can see it still lives. (And fits me – one of the joys of keeping your beginning knitting: eventually, you will get fat enough for it to fit you! I made Kate Moss look overweight at the time I knitted this – ah, happy days!)

This cardigan may be one reason I have had little time for people who whinge about the ‘terrors’ of steeking. Imagine knitting this beauty in the round, your first ever piece of ‘real’ traditional knitting… then taking the scissors to it, to cut a front opening. And yet I did. Years later, I read blogs etc by knitters bigging up The Steek as if it was some towering monster to be fought down, or a rite of passage, worthy of at least 6 stiff gins before you tackle it. Is it hellaslike. It’s just an easier way of making a cardigan.

But after the knitting, a couple of things happened that made me rarely wear it, despite loving it.

One of those things was – I realised the red in the original, was actually two shades, not just the vivid tomato red I’d used but in the background, in some of the peeries (smaller patterns), it was a pretty crimson. To be honest, it looks like the original knitter didn’t quite have enough scarlet so was eeking it out with some crimson. But that apparent ‘mistake’ just added to its beauty and subtlety.

Someone pointed to an old gansey at Ganseyfest, that had an allover pattern, that many people found unaccountably mesmerising. She’d realised it was so compelling because the knitter had made a few mistakes, so your eye travels over the piece, then back again, as you subconsciously try to find what’s going on with the pattern, that should be predictable – but isn’t. Same thing with this cardigan. Somehow that subtle shift between the two reds in the original make overall design, more compelling.

At the time I’d bought the wool, I didn’t have my “eye in”, yet. And wasn’t being analytical or critical enough, before I jumped in with both feet. It seemed to me, a straightforward matter of the primary colours, and white and moorit. Yet it was a more subtle, intelligent thing than I first realised.

Secondly, I’d got the wrong blue. Mine was darker than the sort of Wedgewood blue in the peeries of the original. The paler blue undeniably works better.

Instead of a sort of old gold yellow, I’d got a vivid, primary yellow. Again, all easy mistakes for a beginner to make – less analysis of what it was I’d need. The original was knitted in 1930, and so for ‘Wool’, Mr. Pearson listed:   “6 oz.Moorit (natural brown), secondary colours (Blue, Madder Red, Dark Yellow and Shetland White), 4 oz. each…”

The subtler colours of the original just worked better than my slight variations. This was in the days just  before the lovely Kaffe Fassett was about to pop up, and give us all some insight into colour theory.

Then I washed it, carefully, once, as Elizabeth Zimmerman says, ‘like you’re washing a baby’, and… despite all my lavished care, the blue ran into the white on the peeries.  Now it is not so noticeable in photos but for me, that somehow made it less wearable.

Yellow Buttons!

Last but not least…. the Button Trauma.  Now, if you see the buttons on the original, in the book, you’ll see I wasn’t far off. Shape-wise, they were close. But I was broke, it was the 80s, and I thought I could get away with yellow plastic.  Now, the vividness of the yellow in the knit fabric was dampened down by the fact it was usually on the same round as the moorit (brown). But those buttons SCREAMED.

Don’t get me wrong, on a cold day (or if I was wearing a coat over it), I’d wear it. It saw some use. But not enough.

I was also too lazy to change the buttons. I think we all know where this story is going.  Well, one place it’s going.  First of all, the devil is in the detail. Before you even buy the yarn, if you have the freedom to make colour choices, make considered ones. Secondly… It is all in the finishing. I was happy with this, despite the colours being just marginally off, and the blue from the peeries running into the white on the first wash, right up til I put on the cheap-looking buttons.

And believe me, ‘finishing’ and lecturing anyone about it, is the last thing I’m about given that I rarely swatch (heresy!), never block (What’s blocking?), and knit in the round because I can’t be bothered to sew things together. (If the gods meant me to sew and cook, they’d have given me a sewing machine instead of one hand, and a mixer instead of the other. Bit like a Dalek. Well, they don’t have the sewing bit, but you get my drift…)

Vintage buttons

Then in 2010, a trip to my favourite vintage shop, in York, yielded these little beauties. Yes, some sort of man-made material, not the natural bone or horn buttons I’d sort of had in my mind as preferable to the yellow horrors (since 1985), but the minute I saw them, I knew it had to be.

Took me another year, almost exactly to bear to detach them from their original packaging. But I did it!  These buttons are slightly faceted, and annoyingly, only after I’d stripped all the yellow horrors off, did I realise that I wouldn’t be able to get a wool darning needle (or even, a wool thread), through the holes in them. So I had to sew them on with cotton. I found some matching vintage red cotton, and it was a whole morning’s work to replace every single button on Miss Flora Campbell’s cardigan but…. worth the effort.

I can’t take the loose blue dye from the white in the peeries, or change the original wool colours, but I can change ill-advised buttons. And since I did, I’ve been wearing this a lot more!

The old ‘Made Do And Mend’ spirit is a bit slow to get going in me (26 years. Is that a record?) But I’m glad I eventually was moved to do something about Miss Flora Campbell.

Red vintage buttons

2012 promises to be a bumper year for the re-issuing of classic traditional knitting books, as I’ve been working on an Introduction to a new edition of Marie Hartley and Joan Ingilby’s ‘The Old Hand-Knitters of the Dales’. Later in the week, it’s up to Grasmere to document one of the oldest extant Dales-style gloves.

The book is going to be reissued with some ‘special features’, including designs by some of the foremost contemporary designers, inspired by 19thC Yorkshire knitting, – also, one or two actual stitch by stitch repros of old Dales knitting in Marie Hartley’s collection, and museums elsewhere. It has been fascinating, researching how the 1951 book first got researched and written, and I can’t wait to share it all, with you.

If my Ravelry projects page looks dead, that’s because I’ve been busy working on stuff for my own book, ‘River Ganseys’ (working title), and it’s all top secret right now. I’d feel more like 007, if I got special gadgets and stuff.

A couple of the book projects include attempts to recreate things Misses Hartley and Ingilby describe fleetingly, as well as several patterns for ganseys, based on our Yorkshire inland ones. But there is now an end in sight to ‘book knitting’, and so I have turned my mind – if not yet my needles -  to a bit of Fair Isle, which I’ll start next month, when the book is put to bed, just for a change.  Which is why, this week, I sent for a Lucky Dip of jumper weight Shetland yarn, from  Jamieson & Smith, the Shetland Wool Brokers.  Worth a punt.  I’m hoping to be at the Harrogate Knitting &  Stitching Show next month, so will pick up a unifying background colour, if J & S have a stall there, this year.

On a genealogical note, as we’re discussing Miss Flora Campbell’s cardigan – our trip to Inverness at the start of the month, made us wonder about our Scottish ancestry. The only possible I have is the surname Calam (sometimes spelled ‘Callam’, even ‘Calomb’) which appears around the 1720s, in my mother’s direct line. This name appears abruptly in the Yorkshire parish records with John Calam, who died in Scrayingham on 11.11.1745.  If any of the genealogists reading this have any clues how I can join the dots, I’d be most grateful. It is always hard pre-Dade, if a name just suddenly turns up and isn’t traceable prior to that via the IGI.  I have read online that ‘Calam’ is a Scottish name, but it could well be an English one too. I just don’t know..? Any hints or tips gratefully received.

Re. the knitting… These days I have my eye in, and I try hard to channel Kaffe Fassett whenever I go shopping for wool. My next Fair Isle, 26 years on from the first – will be just as much fun to knit as the first one was. Probably.

Jamieson & Smith's Lucky Dip

By kind permission of The Polperro Heritage Press

Here’s Lewis Harding’s 1870 (ish) image of two little Polperro girls, Mary Jane Langmaid and Elizabeth Joliff, knitting. This is the iconic photo for people interested in the history of traditional knitting.  A couple of people used it in their presentations at Ganseyfest, and folk wondered if the photo was staged. One or two even remarked it looked like they weren’t really knitting or knitters. In response…
I can answer that one. Genealogy comes to our aid!

Some time back, (August 2010), I wrote the piece that follows for ‘Yarn Forward’ magazine. I know they won’t mind me reproducing it here, for those who missed it first time round.

But before I do, would just like to say others have written about, and got great photos of, Ganseyfest. So I refer you, dear Reader, to the blogs of the inestimable Liz Lovick, Northernlace, or  Gordon Reid’s intriguing Ganseys.com.

Ganseyfest? For me, it is impossible to pick out any one speaker, or gansey, or thing. It was all good. Highlights included attending a workshop given by Beth Brown-Reinsel, and the talks given by Anne Coombs on the Herring girls, and Liz Lovick on the forgotten Orkney ganseys. Maybe the greatest honour was meeting Margaret Bennett, folklorist and singer, brought up on the Isle of Skye, who outlined the way knitting and folk traditions interweave.  Margaret mentioned the fisher families’ shibboleths, including the belief that a caul was lucky, and that sometimes they were preserved and sold, as it was thought they gave protection against drowning.

Grandad (red jumper)shark fishing in Ireland

Now my eyes lit up as my grandad – born in landlocked Leeds – was born with a caul, and his whole life had a fascination with boats and the sea. He bought a boat in the 1960s, and kept it on the Ouse but he’d disappear off to the West coast of Ireland for months at a time, fishing. He’d really wanted a seagoing boat, but settled for one on the river. He almost bought the now famous Bridlington coble, Three Brothers, but backed out at the last minute (I seem to recall my dad said he wasn’t confident he could restore it?) Notice he’s wearing what looks like a handknit jumper there – my grandmother had been dead ten years or so by the time he was in Ireland, so I have no clue who could have knitted that. I have quite a few photos taken onboard Irish fishing vessels and not an Aran or gansey is ever in sight! He’s 70 in that photo. NB: see how he has turned up the welt, in that photo, like a ‘proper’ fisherman? Gansey wearers often mention wanting to turn up the welt when they went to sea, to be like their fathers. Billie (grandad’s) father owned a printing business in central Leeds. He was a foundling, and wheeler-dealer who was such an accomplished conman, he was once approached and asked to run as a Conservative candidate… He lived in a large, imposing house which he rented from my other great grandad, Tom Boothman.  Apparently, he took rent paying as ‘optional’.Billie, by way of contrast, was a very hardworking, honourable man who paid off his father’s debts when he died, and worked then ran the Boothmans’ dairy business. Not a fishing gene in sight.  My oldest son, William (named after Billie) was also born with a caul, coincidentally. I didn’t keep it. Too grossed out.

Margaret’s talk was of particular interest to me, as I have a whole chapter in my forthcoming book, on superstitions or should I say, belief systems and culture and their influence on motifs and patterns. Here on the river, they were a superstitious and sometimes religious lot and that bleeds through into the patterns, sometimes. Just as folklore has leitmotifs, ganseys have motifs that shift and change, refracted through the lenses of different communities.

Every talk was great at Ganseyfest, but one that especially caught my interest was the talk given by Dr Malcolm Smith of Durham University, “Gansey Patterns and Cultural Evolution”. Dr Smith is applying academic rigour to the study of motifs, and their migration along the coastline with the herring.

During my own research, I had found an account of a Hull lass who became a herring girl, based in Scarborough but often staying up in Scotland in what she called ‘a hut’. Now, for 50 years or more, knitting historians have vaguely mentioned the possible migration of patterns and motifs, but using genealogy we can pin that right down with hard, concrete examples.  It turned out, one of the little girls in the famous Harding photo gave me some hard evidence of this process Dr. Smith is studying.

Here is the story of the two Polperro fisher girls…

This is a shot taken in Harding’s studio. The two girls wear bead necklaces – probably studio props, as many of the children in Harding’s studio portraits wear identical ones.  Mary Jane has ear-rings and her pinafore is torn. Another of Harding’s subjects said in old age that he’d ruffle sitters’ hair to make them look more ‘natural’.

Knitting sheaths were routinely used by 19thC contract knitters, to get up to speeds like 200 stitches per minute.  When I magnified the image, I could just make out Ann’s knitting sheath under her right arm – but she is not actively using it – probably because Harding posed the girls with knitting artfully angled towards the camera so we are not looking at an ‘authentic’ image of what 19thC knitting looked like, just two girls holding their knitting. This picture is unique as it is the earliest ‘close up’ probably of a real contract knitter, with a sheath even if it’s barely visible! Posing children would have been difficult, as subjects had to sit absolutely still for 20-30 seconds.

The girls use blunt-tipped steel needles that look very crooked and well used. Mary Jane is working the body of a gansey so is working on five needles.  Ann is working on a sleeve so down to three needles. Mary Jane’s gansey seems to have a very deep 2X2 rib welt with an allover pattern above. With Ann’s, you can just see the ridge and furrow shoulder, (rows of purl stitches) at the top of the arm which appears to have a narrow pattern near the top (before decreases), between lines of purl.  The camera flash shows the glossiness of the 5 ply worsted wound into balls on Ann’s lap.  Ganseys were made from lustrous longwool, millspun in Yorkshire, although some people fondly imagine it was handspun* the reality was, ganseys only came about after the Industrial Revolution when millspun was widely available.  Wool would be delivered to knitters in 2lb hanks, and they’d wind it into balls before knitting.

In fishing communities, girls and women could make a living knitting, even earning a higher wage than a domestic servant – if they could knit fast enough.  The chances are, the girls are knitting ‘fancy’ ganseys for sale.  Several of Ann’s Jolliff fishermen relatives are on the famous Harding panel and in other photos Harding took around the village. To give it some perspective:

“…At the beginning of the century, women were paid 3s.6d (17 1/2 pence) for a ‘fancy’ knit-frock; 2s 6d (12 1/2 pence)..for a plain one…only 2s. was paid if a mistake was found in the knitting…An experienced contract worker could complete a guernsey in about a week….”
['Cornish Guernseys & Knit-frocks', Mary Wright, Polperro Press, 1988].

At this date a servant earned 9d a week (4p), so if you could knit at speed you could earn more and stay at home.

I was able to find both girls on the 1871 Census. Mary Jane was on Lansallos St, aged 8 and living with her parents Joseph (fisherman) and Ellen. Ellen was born in Grimsby,Yorkshire fishing port – which would have influenced Mary Jane’s knitting and given her different patterns to the Cornish ones, no doubt. Mary Jane  had three younger siblings.  Meanwhile, Ann was also on Lansallos St, with her fisherman father Charles Jolliff, mother, Mary and nine siblings.  Both girls are described as ‘Scholar’ (standard term for children in Censuses), yet were competent knitters already by age 10 or so.

Looking at the photo, that means we can date the image to the early 1870s: Ann was born around 1863 and Mary Jane, around 1861.

By 1881,  Mary Jane, age now given 17, has her profession is ‘Frock Knitting’  (‘Frock’ is the old word for jumper).

In 1891, Mary Jane’s mother Ellen is described as ‘Knitter’.

I used Free BMD, http://www.freebmd.org.uk/  to find Ann’s marriage – in 1875, to fisherman Charles Puckey. In 1891, they live on Lansallos St and Ann’s profession is ‘Knitting Fancy’.

Harding didn’t pose the girls with knitting as a prop – both were already contract knitters.

FIND OUT MORE:

Lewis Harding Cornwall’s Pioneer Photographer, Philip M. Correll, Polperro Heritage Press,  ISBN 0 953001245
Cornish Guernseys & Knit Frocks, Mary Wright, Polperro Heritage Press, ISBN 978-0955364884

About Lewis Harding

Harding was born in Somers Town, London, in 1807 to a wealthy but down-at-heel family.  Before he retired to Polperro, he had a colourful life, minsitering to convicts on Norfolk Island for some time, before returning to England and settling in the fishing village of Polperro, Cornwall, living the life of a ‘gentleman’.  He took up photography in the 1850s, now middle-aged, using a cutting edge technique. Harding took some of the earliest and finest surviving photos – his subjects being Polperro scenes and people. He is best known for a panel of 80 portraits of Polperro fishermen, from the 1860s.  But several of his photos show knitters at work. This is the finest.

“Mary Jane Langmaid and Ann Eizabeth Joliff, Knitting”.  (Undated) Polperro, Cornwall, by Lewis Harding. Image courtesy of Polperro Press, http://www.polperropress.co.uk/

* I’m talking English ganseys here. Some Scottish ones were handspun.

Alfi

I’ll be presenting a talk at Ganseyfest, the International Gansey Seminar, in Inverness, on Saturday. Details here.

Better still, am hoping to learn from other people’s talks and workshops, and see some interesting Scottish ganseys “in the flesh” (wool?)

Will be talking about the Yorkshire inland ganseys but also how to use basic genealogical techniques, to find out more about our textile heritage. And how you can use genealogy both to mythbust and to give concrete proof in support of various theories.

Also, I may be letting slip some exciting and hitherto Top Secret  news. Well, exciting for those of us who read about knitting history. (And I don’t mean the book I’ve been working on, but something else…)

Until I return from Scotland – Adieu, fair Reader.