By Kate Hodgson

The Victorian Age beckoned to the MLHS Society for its December Meeting last year. Plans were made – our normal venue was excellent for the project with its panelled walls, and the Sisters of Hyning prepared a magnificent fire in the grand fire place which danced and crackled its merry way throughout the evening.

As well as the usual decoration of holly and ivy, we had an impressive display of Miss Field’s grandmother’s betrothal dress in black (in a grosgrain type material) and beautifully made for a very slim woman. Evidentially betrothals were great events with a certificate rather like that for a wedding – at least that was the custom in Scotland. There was a lovely paisley shawl of the same period.

On the table was displayed a nightdress made by Miss Field’s mother when she was 12 or 13 years old – how they managed such delicate work at such a young age and when lighting in the home was so inadequate I don’t know. A Culpeppers Complete Herbal of 1818 detailed cures for everything and “Legends for Lionel” would have provided good reading for young children. We also saw grandfather’s shirt studs, an old type pen with an assortment of nibs for a time when writing was writing indeed, a button hole flower holder, a pretty candlestick and envelopes from a time when you had the shape but made them up yourself. Not only do we thank Miss Field for the excellent display (we were all grateful she was a hoarder) but she also set us a riddle over one particular item – we wrote down many suggestions but only one of us guessed right. It was for making the nibs of quill pens – of course – how obvious – why didn’t we all think of it!

Members either dressed smartly for the occasion or had dug deep in their wardrobes for a suitable garb for Victorians: a navvy returning from a hard day; and stiff collars, waistcoats etc, shook off the dust and came for a night out. Not so easy for the men to find the right things, but the ladies had gone to town – literally, in many cases, to the hairdressers by the lovely hair creations. Long skirts, pretty bonnets, shawls, some dresses made especially for the occasion – you had to look twice to recognise people in their Victorian disguise!

The small organ and regal looking gold harp appeared very purposeful and soon Mr and Mrs Bacon and Mr Anderton, immaculately attired for the period, called us to order and Mr Anderton started with a song which was followed by Mrs Bacon reading a poem on childhood. Then our three entertainers gave an excellent reading from Oliver Twist. After Mr Anderton’s rendering of Arthur Sullivan’s ‘The Lost Chord’, Mrs Bacon read from Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, the rather sad and dramatic passages about the comfort of her doll as she felt so alone in the big house.

The harp was feeling the effects of the warm atmosphere and, while Mr Bacon was making the necessary adjustment, he explained that in a middle class family of the time the harp was used by the ladies of the house to accompany singers and was not used as a solo instrument as he was going to play it now – ‘Reflections’, ’Thoughts’, and a special Christmas lullaby for the Sisters of Hyning which was most delightful.

We were not allowed to relax for ‘Loves Old Sweet Song’ but were expected to sing the chorus if we wanted our supper, so we all co-operated well as we had seen the lovely Jacob’s Join that had accumulated in the outer room. We had all done too well in that aspect – a most colourful arrangement of most tasty food – and however much we ate we did not do justice to it all.

After the supper we listened to the dramatic ’Excelsior” and then Mrs Bacon read from Dorothy Wordsworth’s Journal covering one Christmas period, talking of deep snow, then a thaw and a delightful walk by Rydal on the 26th.

Just in case we didn’t feel Christmas was approaching, Mr Bacon read from Charles Dickens’ Pickwick, when the winter season meant skating and Mr Winkle made the mistake of saying he could skate and later earned the remark that he was an ‘awkward gentleman’ on skates.

We had to earn our release to go home by singing from the appropriate carol sheet, and that enjoyed and accomplished, Mr Anderton sang Christina Rossetti’s ‘Love Came Down at Christmas’, followed by her “In the Bleak Midwinter’, in which his audience joined.

Having got us in the season’s mood the wonderful poem, ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’, was recited and by the time we had heard the description of St Nicholas and his sleigh and his journey down the chimney, I for one was looking aghast at the still hot fire in case Father Christmas got called several days early by our festivities! He didn’t attempt the hot chimney – that is to come.

By now it was time for home but a request was made for Mr Bacon to play again the charming lullaby on the harp composed for the Sisters of Hyning and we enjoyed hearing it again.

A good evening, good entertainment, good food, a warm and cordial atmosphere.

Published in Mourholme Magazines Issue 12 Autumn 1986

By Jean Chatterley

Introduction

A small but very old booklet was donated to the Mourholme archive collection some time ago by Mr R. Clements. Called ‘A Warder’s Experiences in Lancaster Castle’, it gives an interesting insight into prison life there some 100 years ago. The book is based on a lecture read in The Lecture Room, High Street, Lancaster, by ‘the late Mr Isaac Smith’, and it is illustrated by some grim pictures representing scenes of life inside. Written for visitors to Lancaster, the book begins by outlining the Castle’s long history, but the rest is based, as the title suggests, on Isaac Smith’s own experiences.

Part 1 Hansbrow’s Stone Jug and the Cock-catcher

It was my lot to spend no inconsiderable portion of my life inside this venerable pile, having been appointed an officer by the County Magistrates in 1861. At that time the south side of the Castle was used as a Penitentiary for female delinquents, and the north side and Lungess Tower were appropriated to “visitors” who had come to undergo what was familiarly termed the “process of whitewashing”. The friends and relatives of these latter people…were wont to address their letters to “Hansbrow’s Hotel”, “Hansbrow’s Castle Hotel”, Hansbrow’s Stone Jug”, etc, Captain Hansbrow being at that time Governor of the Castle.

Isaac Smith then goes on to explain who these ‘visitors’ were, an account which dealt with a system probably familiar to his audience, but very odd to us:

These gentlemen were really insolvent debtors – ‘about ninety out of every hundred sent in by friendly creditors for the purpose of petitioning the Court to pay off their debts with a piece of waste paper. From 70 to 80 debtors went through this process every month. The whole affair was a huge swindle; only a very small percentage of the cases were genuine. As a rule, a man went into trade and ran up debts to a few hundred pounds, paid as little as possible and put away as much loose cash as he could before his creditors became unduly pressing. When he found he could go no further he would persuade a friend to swear that he owed him over £20, and get him to take out a warrant and consign him to the Castle. I have frequently seen men waiting at the Gateway of the Castle enquiring if the Sheriff’s officer had not yet arrived with their warrant!!

It becomes clear that the City’s lawyers were only too aware of the ‘benefits’ of this system.

There were several lawyers in the town who had offices in the Castle and employed assistants to bring them clients. The most important of these assistants was called the “Cock-catcher’’. It was his duty to meet the trains and bargain with the sheriff’s officer to recommend his prisoner to his (the Cock-catcher’s) firm. This successfully accomplished the debtor was hurried into the Castle and into the presence of the ‘’Cock-catcher’s” master, who after hearing the debtor’s story would tell him he could pull him through the Court for about £10, if he would sign a paper retaining him as his solicitor. Then the lawyer would draw up a schedule of all his client’s creditors with the amount of their claims, and a petition to the Court praying to be relieved from payment on the score of inability to pay. This done, notice was sent to all creditors that if they intended to oppose the debtor’s discharge they must give so many days’ notice before the next Court day. If no notice was given the debtor was discharged as unopposed; but if the case was a bad one and a hostile creditor gave notice of opposing the petition, the debtor would get his friendly creditor to oppose likewise. The hostile creditor would ask the judge to dismiss the debtor’s petition for various reasons, while the friendly creditor would urge him to remand the debtor in prison for a few months, when they would perhaps be able to make better terms with him. The judge would most likely listen to the latter, and remand the debtor for perhaps six months at the suit of this creditor, who, like a good friend, would forgive the debtor after the Court rose, and would lodge his discharge (which he probably had all the time in his pocket) with the Governor, with the result that the debtor would be discharged with the rest, the only drawback being that he could not obtain his certificate of discharge until the six months had expired.

Things did not always go the way of the debtor, of course.

Creditors were often obstinate. Suspecting that the debtor had the wherewithal to pay his debts, they would turn up on Court-days in a body, and persistently oppose his discharge; and thus the game of “tire you out” would proceed on both sides until one or the other gave way.

Isaac Smith then describes what life for the debtor was like once inside the prison – and here we are reminded of Little Dorrit’s father in Charles Dickens’ novel.

Though arrested under the same kind of writ, when inside the Castle the debtors were divided into two classes: the first class maintained themselves, but the second class lived at the expense of the county. There were 22 rooms set apart for the use of the debtors – 20 for males and two for females. ‘Every debtor on entering the prison was charged a certain sum, termed ‘’room-money”, which covered the cost of fuel, lighting, the use of culinary utensils, etc, during the whole period of his incarceration, no matter how long. The money was collected by the “rooms-men”, who had charge of the rooms, did the cooking, cleaning, etc, and waited upon the debtors in their respective apartments. The fee varied with the accommodation – from 25/-, the highest sum, to 5/-, the lowest. Subject to certain regulations, any tradesman in the town had full liberty, at stated times of the day, to convey eatables and drinkables into the Castle for the use of the debtors; and every morning a miniature market, where butcher’s meat, bread, butter, groceries, vegetables, fish, and other commodities might be purchased was held in the Castle-yard. Those among the richer debtors who did not care to purchase for themselves paid 7/- or 8/- weekly to the ’roomsmen” for their board, and this included a bottle of ale every day.

It is not surprising to learn that being a ‘roomsman’ could be profitable; it is more amazing to learn how the debtor inmates themselves made money:

…even as much as £800, or bordering on that sum, is said to have been accumulated by one individual entirely from debtors, by advancing money to them at a most exorbitant rate of interest, as the security of watches, jewellery, and other articles which the borrowers were seldom able to redeem.

Some of the inmate debtors became very well known:

The best room was called the “Quaker’s”. It was a very large room in the Lungess Tower, being its full length and half the width. In my day this room was kept by old Joe Marsden, a man who went in as a debtor and had 32 Christmas dinners in the Castle, He had the place furnished with easy ‘chairs, sofas, a piano, and everything to make the room look comfortable. There was a second-best room, where the board was not quite so high. This was kept by a man who had been six years in the Castle at the time of my appointment. The first day after each Court-day the members of these rooms proceeded to elect a committee and officers to conduct the affairs of the room for another month. The officers were Chairman, Vice-chairman, Constable, Postman, and Cock-catcher. They had a code of rules printed and hung in the rooms, with a scale of fines for various offences.

These officers held mock ‘courts’, where Isaac Smith frequently witnessed great ability and good humoured banter.

When a debtor was sent in by a hostile creditor, this court would try his case if he chose, and advise him whether it would be wiser to face the judge or compound with his creditor…A tradesman – a great swell- had been arrested in Liverpool under an absconding warrant…On arriving at the Castle he wanted to telegraph to his relatives and ask them to pay his debt; but his new friends in the Quaker’s Rooms advised him to keep cool, and to have his case tried by them. He ultimately assented, and they advise him to adopt the following plan, which he carried out with complete success: – He wrote to his detaining creditor a very respectful letter, expressing regret at his inability to pay him in full, and as it would take all he possessed to see him through the Insolvent Debtors’ Court, he thought it only fair (as he was his only creditor) to offer him the money instead of paying it away in law costs. He made an offer of 1/6d in the £, which he said was the best he could do. Then he wrote a pathetic letter to his wife, telling her how he had got into trouble, that he had written to his detaining creditor offering all he had, which would only realise 1/6d in the £ ‘that he thought his creditor was a humane, good sort of man and would accept it; and telling her that in the event of his doing so she must sell the watch which her father gave her, also her jewellery and surplus clothing, and when he got out of prison he would try to make up for all, even “if he worked his fingers to the bone.” He then purposely make the mistake of putting his wife’s letter into the envelope addressed to his creditor, and the creditor’s letter into the envelope addressed to his wife, and posted them. When the creditor opened the letter which began “My darling wife”, he was somewhat puzzled, but soon saw that a mistake had been made. In due time his wife sent the letter she had received on to the creditor, who would naturally say, “Now I have by accident seen the real state of things; I may as well get what bit I can;” so he wrote accepting the offer of 1/6d in the £ and sent the debtor his discharge. On leaving the Castle the discharged debtor gave £5 to his friends, with which to make merry over his success.

Some of the debtors had serious drink problems, and would suffer what we now call withdrawal symptoms when deprived of all but their daily ration of ale. Isaac Smith describes a couple of extreme cases, one ending with the prisoner’s removal to the lunatic asylum, and another which involved the man with ‘d.t.s’ attacking others in his room, and which needed a ‘desperate struggle’ on Isaac’s part to ‘overpower’ him.

Though bottled ale might be purchased by the debtors to a limited extent, spirits were strictly forbidden; and tobacco, which at one time was allowed, became during the whole of my time, and for some time previous, contraband also. But many cute attempts were made to smuggle it is, some of which would occasionally succeed, but they were more frequently detected.

Cases were cited of ingenious smuggling efforts on the part of prisoners’ families; for example,

On one occasion a very handsome overcoat was piped all around with twist.

Other efforts involved ’doctored’ pies, boxes with false bottoms, and a deceptive 1 lb tin of mustard powder!

Isaac Smith tells us that changes followed the new Bankruptcy Act at the end of 1861 when the old Insolvent Debtors Act was replaced. But it was not until the new Act was amended in 1853, to make insolvency no longer an offence carrying a prison sentence that major changes occurred:

At six o’clock on the morning of New Year’s Day, 1869, the doors were thrown open, and all prisoners shown the way out.

Did this mean that the Castle contained no debtors from that date? Not at all, for many were ‘inside’ for related offences, particularly contempt of court.

County Court debtors were sent for a stated period, varying from seven to forty days, and in some instances were committed again and again for the same debt. A man from Bolton (if I remember correctly) was sent several times for forty days each time for one debt, which was originally only 1/5d. We had two debtors in for contempt of the Court of Chancery eight or nine years; we had one in (a solicitor) about six years, who spent more money I should think every three months than would have paid the whole of his debts. The new Bankruptcy Act, however, turned him out, and, I fear, broke his heart.

The departure of most of the debtors made room for the more usual type of criminals.

Published in Mourholme Magazines Issue 12 Autumn 1986

By Peter Norris

It all started towards the end of 1985. Carnforth High School Association (Parent-Teacher organization} approached ne with a view to my writing the 25 years’ history of the school. I suppose I had dual qualifications to help me with the task. I am the Head of the History Department and I have now been in this post for 23 years. I asked the committee not to set a deadline, as I would have to fit the time allowed for the project into all my other activities. In the event, I was able to complete the manuscript, photocopy all the illustrations and present it at a committee meeting in May 1986, before my commitments to the CSE and GCE Examination Boards became too pressing.

The first obvious source of information was the school log book which proved invaluable in many respects. For example, with its help I was able to compile a list, in chronological order and showing lengths of service, of all the 134 permanent and 47 temporary members of staff, beginning with A.J. Parkinson, the first headmaster, and ending with P.A. Legon, the present holder of this post.

One of the 5th year girls who left in 1985 produced a sheet of caricatures of the whole staff. This was quite unconnected with the school’s history, until I persuaded her to enlarge a few selected faces for inclusion in the proposed book.

I managed to trace one of the original School Governors of 1959, John Easter Roberts, himself a local historian. He kindly provided me with much interesting information about how the school came into being, and about educational provision in Carnforth before 1959, going back in fact, to 1872, when the Church of England erected their school at the junction of Haws Hill and Lancaster Road. John Roberts was also able to tell me about the conception and birth of Carnforth Swimming Pool, built adjacent to the school and opened for use in 1978.

School magazines provided much evidence, but unfortunately school magazines at Carnforth have tended to come in waves, with several years of production, then a gap, then a resurrection after a few years, with a change of name. Several items were in fact extracted, but the gaps did cause a problem.

Illustrations, over 100, mostly photographs or newspaper cuttings, came largely from three sources – the collection of a colleague which dated back to before the beginning of the school, secondly, from a comprehensive collection of photographs taken in and around the school during the past ten years by a colleague with a particular interest and expertise in photography and finally from my own pictorial evidence.

Many of my own colleagues have been interviewed – in particular, the one original member of staff still remaining and also the teachers most involved with foreign exchange visits, the Duke of Edinburgh’s Awards and the two Scooter Marathons, the second of which gained the school a world record and a place in the Guinness Book.

Several ex-pupils were also interviewed or asked to write their reminiscences, including Clifford Small (one of the original intake), Mike Walker, a star of American football (fortunately in Carnforth at the time), Alan Tayler, Cup Final hero of 1975, George Brocklebank, 16 year old shot putt sensation, and Caron Skelhorne, recipient of the Duke’s Gold Award.

As the school has in fact been two schools, Carnforth Secondary from 1959 to 1973 and Carnforth High from 1973 to date, it has possessed two school badges. Two current school artists were commissioned to paint monochrome copies of the badges and to this I added information I had obtained which related the first badge to the coat of arms of the Washington family of Warton.

I wrote an article based on several historical excursions with children to London, jogged my memory and produced a section on nicknames and utilised several efforts at original poetry and prose composition which had previously appeared in school magazines.

Not all was plain sailing, though. At least two ex-colleagues declined to contribute, while a few promised from ex-pupils failed to materialise.

However I received enough positive assistance to make this, almost my first literary effort (I once wrote a script for a school play), feel quite pleasurable and worthwhile.

The book will shortly be published and it is to be hoped that enough copies will be purchased by existing pupils and particularly by their older relations (who incidentally may find some written or pictorial reference to themselves – there are over 600 recognisable faces) to make a significant increase in the funds that the school may begin to use during the next 25 years.

Published in Mourholme Magazines Issue 12 Autumn 1986

By D. Peter

The Ulverston-Lancaster Railway (later merged with the Furness Railway) was opened in 1857. On August 29th of that year a celebratory dinner was served up ‘in a splendid marquee in the grounds of Furness Abbey…The spread…was one of the most recherche description…there were two striking features placed upon the centre table…viz. the boar’s head and the Bastion of Pigeons on Sockles.’

Bill of Fare

• Boar’s Head & Bastion of Pigeons on Sockles
• Raised Pies of Grouse & Venison
• Galantines of Geese & Veal
• Dishes of Bechamel Poulardes
• Hams Carved
• Dishes of Roast Fowls
• Dishes of Roast Grouse
• Roast Quarters of Lamb
• Large Pieces of Daubed Beef Tongues
• Round of Beef – ornamented with various devices
• Lobster salads
• Mayonnaise of Chickens
• Chicken Salads
• Trout a la Slaney
• Slices of Salmon a la Belle Vue
• Eels with Monpelier Butter
• Macedoine Jellies
• Liqueur Jellies
• Portugese Creams
• Raspberry Creams
• Fruit Tarts
• Pastries
• Models in Confectionery:
  • Ruins of Furness Abbey
  • Train in motion
• Wines of every description
• Claret Cup
• Cider Cup
• Grapes Pines, Peaches
• Apricots, Apples, Cakes, Ices

From ‘The Dietary’, Report of the Board of Guardians of the Lancaster Union, 1843.

By contrast, at the Lancaster Union Workhouse in 1843, male inmates were receiving two pints of oatmeal porridge and one pint of milk for breakfast and two pints of milk porridge for supper with eight ounces of bread. On Monday, their dinner consisted of two pints of hough soup with eight ounces of bread. On Tuesday, one herring and one and a half pounds of potatoes. On Wednesday, two pints rice milk and four ounces bread. On Thursday, a repeat of Monday’s menu. On Friday, two pints beef scouse and four ounces bread. On Saturday, two pints pea soup and eight ounces bread. On Sunday they had three ounces of bacon, one and a half pounds of potatoes and four ounces of bread. Sunday supper consisted of three ounces of cheese and one pint of milk with bread. Females received the same food but a little less of it.

Published in Mourholme Magazines Issue 12 Autumn 1986

By K. Greaves

What is your name?
Answer; n or m (n = name; m = nn = names)
Who gave you this name?
Answer; My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism.

Thus begins the Catechism in the Book of Common Prayer, and the baptismal names referred to are those usually known as Christian names. But to distinguish us from other people who have the same Christian name we have an additional name – a surname, the prefix ‘sur-’ meaning ‘extra’, as in surcharge and surtax, coming fairly obviously from the French. But we have, rather less obviously, an interesting English equivalent.

Anyone who has read any Chaucer will be familiar with the Middle English word ’eke’ or ‘eek’ meaning ‘also’. It was in common use five hundred years ago, and we still use a form of it in the phrase ’to eke out’, meaning to try to make something in short supply, such as money, go further – to get extra, additional use from it. Attached to the word ‘name’ it gave ‘eke-name’, exactly equivalent to ‘surname’; and, in the course of those three or four centuries after the Norman conquest when the developing English language was widely spoken but rarely written down, ’an eke- name’ became ‘a neke-name’ or ‘nickname’.

It is one of the strengths of the English language that it is rich in pairs of words like these which, while having essentially the same meaning, have different forms reflecting different origins and have come, through usage, to acquire slightly different functions. Many surnames must originally have been nicknames in the modern sense of the word – names like Redhead, Crookshank, etc – but today we differentiate between a surname and a nickname, and the language is the richer for it.

The shift of the letter ’n’ from the article to the noun – ‘an eke-name’ to ‘a neke-name’ – is by no means exceptional. There is a small creature which, in some rural areas, is still known as an eft or, more anciently, an evvet. By some confusion of ’w’ and ‘w’ the ewet (or eft) came to be called an ewt, and hence what used to be called an eft is now called a newt.

The ‘n’ can also move in the opposite direction, when the article ‘a’ takes unto itself the initial ‘n’ from the noun that follows. The modern word ‘apron’ was originally ‘napron’ , a word related to nap and napkin and napery. And ‘an adder’ was originally ‘a nadr’, thus giving the lie to the story of the little snakes in the Garden of Eden who complained that they had been sent into the world to multiply and they couldn’t because they were adders.

Published in Mourholme Magazines Issue 12 Autumn 1986