View allAll Photos Tagged paramour
De Sant Llorenç D'Hortons. Gose. Aigua, maltes (d'ordi, blat i civada), llúpol (Tettnang), llevat, fruita de la passió, llavors de coriandre i sal de mar. 5 IBUs. 4,5%. Impressionant de bona. Àcida, seca, molt carbonatada, gust a maracujà molt marcat, també cítric. #fruity #sour #sourbeer #blackberries #cranberries #NEIPA #IPA #IndianPaleAle #indiaPaleAle #localbeer #craftbeer #cervesaartesana #cervesaartesanal #beer #pivo #birra #cervesa #cerveza #olut #øl #пиво #bière #beerporn #beergeek #beernerd #craftbeerlive #hophead #craftbeernotcrapbeer #craftbeerporn #craftbeerlover #beerstagram #beerpic #olut #starkol #piwo #chelas #bierre #chela #instabeer
The Watcher in the woods
Pursuing the Posh
A Cat Burglar Saga
From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.
C.B. Case Study 13 , File B
Subset Source: Journal
Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?
ORIGINATION STORY:
flic.kr/p/BcnW2J
Synopsis:
The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.
I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.
The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.
Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.
So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?
Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.
So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.
There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.
The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.
She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!
But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.
But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.
She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.
I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!
***** Two productive evenings later ****************
It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.
I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).
But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.
The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.
This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.
With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.
Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.
And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…
The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!
I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.
Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.
Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.
It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.
I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.
I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!
A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.
Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.
I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.
Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.
The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.
Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!
Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.
I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.
It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.
Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.
They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!
They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.
Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.
Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).
But beady eyes says nothing..
He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.
It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.
I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.
I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.
I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.
I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.
In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.
I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.
I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.
I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.
I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.
But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.
I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.
As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.
This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.
A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….
I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.
So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……
But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.
I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.
One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.
Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!
And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.
************************************
Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans
Roughly translated:
If you want to make God laugh, Make plans
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
Swedish postcard by Äkta handkolorerade fotokort, no. 20014.
Husky, darkly handsome Steve Cochran (1917- 1965) was an American film, television, and stage actor, who often played boxers and gangsters during the 1940s and 1950s. One of his best-known roles is the troubled drifter in Michelangelo Antonioni's Il Grido (1957), produced in Italy.
Steve Cochran was born Robert Alexander Cochran in Eureka, California, in 1917. He grew up in Laramie, Wyoming, the son of a logger. While he appeared in high school plays, he spent more time delving into athletics, particularly shooting hoops. After stints as a cowpuncher and railroad station hand, he studied at the University of Wyoming, where he also played basketball. Impulsively, he quit college in 1937 and decided to go straight to Hollywood to become a star. Working as a carpenter and department store detective during his early days, he gained experience appearing in summer stock. In the early 1940s, he was given the chance to work with the Shakespeare Festival in Carmel. There he played Orsino in Twelfth Night, Malcolm in Macbeth, Horatio in Hamlet" and the title role of Richard III. He made his Broadway debut in Broken Hearts on Broadway (1944) and then went on to appear almost immediately in Hickory Stick. In 1945, he landed a contract with Samuel Goldwyn. His debut was Wonder Man (H. Bruce Humberstone, 1945) with Virginia Mayo and Danny Kaye. In the following years, he appeared in several films, including the Film Noir The Chase (Arthur Ripley, 1946), the war classic The Best Years of Our Lives (William Wyler, 1946) as Virginia Mayo's extra-marital fling, and A Song Is Born (Howard Hawks, 1948). Following a notable stint as Mae West's leading stud in her 1949 revival of Diamond Lil on Broadway, Cochran was picked up by Warner Bros. From 1949 till 1952 Cochran often played boxers and gangsters for Warner. One of his most memorable roles was as psychotic mobster James Cagney’s power-hungry henchman, Big Ed Somers, in the gangster classic White Heat (Raoul Walsh, 1949). He also appeared in Highway 301 (Andrew L. Stone, 1950), as Joan Crawford's gangster paramour in The Damned Don't Cry! (Vincent Sherman, 1950), and Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison (Crane Wilbur, 1951), which inspired Johnny Cash to write his song Folsom Prison Blues. Gary Brumburgh at IMDb: “Cochran was all man -- and a slick ladies' guy to boot. They didn't come much rougher and tougher than he both off- and on-camera. Throughout post-WWII Hollywood and the 1950s, he played the swarthiest and sexiest of coldhearted villains, with a mustache or without, in a few films now considered classics. What Cochran perhaps lacked in the Gable charisma department, he certainly made up for with his own raw magnetism and sexy virility.“
In 1953 Steve Cochran formed his own production company, Robert Alexander Productions. He won critical acclaim for two of his performances in his company's films. Cochran played a disgraced, alcoholic itinerant farmer struggling to regain the love of his family in Come Next Spring (R.G. Springsteen, 1956), and a troubled drifter in Michelangelo Antonioni's Il Grido/The Outcry (1957), produced in Italy and co-starring Alida Valli. Cochran starred in a string of B movies throughout the 1950s, including Carnival Story (Kurt Neumann, 1954), Private Hell 36 (Don Siegel, 1954), and the British thriller The Weapon (Val Guest, 1956). He also appeared in episodes of popular television series of the era, such as The Twilight Zone (1959) and The Untouchables (1960-1961). In the early 1960s, Cochran appeared in the Western The Deadly Companions (Sam Peckinpah, 1961) with Maureen O’Hara, and the drama Of Love and Desire (Richard Rush, 1963) starring Merle Oberon, but his career had begun a final downslide. His production company attempted to make some television series and other films, but they were never produced with the exception of a television pilot where he played John C. Fremont in Fremont the Trailblazer. A prime candidate for numerous arrests for his impulsive carousing and brawling, his living hard in the fast lane began to take its toll. His last years were marred by an obligatory Errol Flynn-type ending of drinking and debauchery. He began looking bloated and weighty. Cochran's final films were the British crime drama Mozambique (Robert Lynn, 1964) with Hildegard Knef, and the romantic drama Tell Me in the Sunlight (1965), which he had directed himself and was not released in the U.S. until 1967. Steve Cochran was a notorious womanizer and attracted tabloid attention for his tumultuous private life, which included well-documented affairs with numerous starlets and actresses. Mamie Van Doren later wrote about their sex life in graphic detail in her autobiography Playing the Field: My Story (1987). He was married and divorced three times, and to artist Florence Lockwood, actress Fay McKenzie, and 19-year-old Danish émigré Hedda Jenna Jensen. He had one daughter, Xandra, by Lockwood. Cochran was the grandfather of film and television producer Alex Johns. In 1965, Cochran died on his yacht off the coast of Guatemala, reportedly due to an acute lung infection. His body, along with three female assistants, remained aboard for ten days since the three women did not know how to operate the boat. It drifted to shore in Port Champerico, Guatemala, and was found by authorities. According to Wikipedia, there were various rumours of foul play and poisoning, but reportedly no new evidence was found. Steve Cochran was 48.
Sources: Gary Brumburgh (IMDb), Wikipedia, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
Venus was nothing compared to the girl. Her clothes trailed alluringly across the floor; her satin evening gown with the magnificent broach, her long shiny gloves, gorgeous Sable Fur all were laid out in seductive, overlying curls as she had slinked through the room, leaving behind her the telling path of unmistakably rich prey. The beginning of which held a feast for the tracking predator who knew how to read the signs.
*************************************************
The study below was derived from facts uncovered while doing research for the following Doctoral dissertation:
Light to the shadows of their mind:
Criminal tactics and strategies
Criminology Department .
Chatwick University
**************************
If there was ever one thing I savored the most about my chosen profession I would have to say it was the lavish receptions, balls and other posh settings where the frills of the filthy rich could be both admired and enjoyed. There was just something about the voluptuous ladies who haunted these venues, dressed up to the silky nines and sporting flashy ornaments, which I found so very mesmerizing.
Take the young lady in whose spell I was currently basking. She was wearing a slinky long satin number that appeared to have been poured along her enticing figure. A diamond brooch sparkled from just below her perky breasts. Her opulent gemstone jewels, surrounded by sparkling diamonds, shone like cat eyes when caught by the lights. I studied her the way one would appraise a painting by an old master, closely examining everything I could that pertained to her. If this work of art went by a name, I would title it: Eileen, a study in opulence.
I could also see that I wasn’t the only one who was paying Eileen attention. The man she was seeing appeared, as usual to be caught up in the ladies enchantment this evening. I had seen the couple together several times, but tonight he seemed to be especially attentive to her. There was definitely electricity in the air between them. Which was good, for tonight would be the night to pounce, paying the witchy young lady and her jewels a long anticipated nocturnal visit in the wee hours of the morning.
I had heard about Eileen through a paid source close by in Sutton. She had been an orphan at a young age and brought up properly by a war-widowed grandmother. The Grandmother had been wealthy, and when she passed on she had left 22 year old Eileen with a small fortune. Along with the Grandmothers wealth, Eileen inherited from the old lady three major facets, a spoiled naivety, a gullible ego, and a massive jewelry collection. Which all together presented a very enticing combination for someone like me.
Eileen wore her grandmother’s jewels with reckless abandonment, so I was told, and that is what made her stand out to those who sell information to people like me. Like a hungry predator, I shadowed Eileen for an entire month as she bounced from night club to private club, from extravagant balls, to ultra-fancy ritzy dances. I got to see her and her collection of jewels in close proximity, and it was love at every sighting. I even stole a dance away from her escort, when he was away making one of his frequent business calls. She was wearing a puffy gown of rich taffeta, with silvery diamonds that flashed as they cascaded down from her ears throat. It was a slow dance and I was able to tune out her constant babbling and concentrate on appraising her jewels. After the dance I kissed her gloved hand with its heavily ringed fingers, and bid au revoir, before quickly getting lost in the crowd before her lover returned.
The whole time I closely watched over Eileen and her latest Beau, a charming man named Claude who spoke with a heavy French accent. I quickly learned everything I could about the pair’s background, their relationship, their friends, their habits. Several times I had left them alone while when they were safely partying out on the town, and did a trail run by the ladies residence. This was a secluded small stone mini-mansion, located deep in the woods on the far outskirts of town that had been her Grandmothers weekend retreat. I had plenty of time to study, so that by the time the evening arrived when I would make my move, I had it all plotted out, taking into consideration every angle. I was ready, and actually had been so for over a week prior to this evening.
I followed the happy couple home that evening, and waited while they got down to business. I was calm, my nerves knew no anxiety. I spirited away back to my car and changed into my proper “ business” attire ( black clothes, gloves and mask). I had witnessed Eileen and Claude putting on the same show for several late evenings, and I knew just when to strike. And, then, strike I did.
Like a shadow I moved, becoming part of the background. Reaching the house I stole in through a basement window which I had loosened the week before. I cautiously moved inside, using my torch only sparingly. I made my way up through the basement to the first level, pausing only for a few precious seconds to observe the pricy landscapes that hung from the walls, but I did not touch, for that was not my game.
I crept up the stairs to the sitting room of the master bedroom, Eileen’s grandmother’s old room. It stood as a shrine to the old lady, right down to her old white cat lying on the primly made bed. The cat watched me untrustingly before hissing and running off into some dark corner. I went over and pulled back a self-portrait of the old lady, behind which was a small wall safe. It’s amazing how easy these things are to spot. The tumblers satisfactorily whirled and clicked home, allowing me to open silently and peek into its small chamber. A number of jewel cases of various shapes and makes were exposed to my torch. Quickly I emptied them, watching as jewel after jewel slithered brightly into my satchel. I replaced each case, and after the last was disposed of its contents, I closed it back up and made my way to the fair Eileen’s boudoir.
Venus was nothing compared to the viixen Eileen. Her clothes laid an alluring path across the sitting room floor; her satin evening gown with the magnificent broach, her long shiny gloves, gorgeous Sable Fur, all were laying in seductive, overlapping curves like a carefully marked out trail leading one to a treasure of promised ecstasy. For Eileen and her paramour, that ecstasy was to be found where the trail ended, in her boudoir. For me, the ecstasy lay where the trail had begun, the spot where she had removed her jewels before giving into the passion of the moment. The expensive pile gleamed invitingly, flickering like so many colorful cat eyes by my torches light. They were perched on her dresser, carelessly discarded for things so valuable, they snaked around the marble bird of prey that, alas, would soon prove a futile guardian.
I looked at the door to her bedroom, it was open a sliver and I could hear the raw animal sounds of their lovemaking. Obviously they were occupied for a while. Unhurriedly I carefully lifted each piece up, savoring their shimmering fire before stowing them safely away to join their mates. I then went to the gown on the floor and lifting it ran it through my fingers, it whispered and felt silky, even through my thin gloves. Reaching the brooch I carefully undid the clasp, pulling the jewel away. Dropping the gown, I then turned and silently retraced my steps. Gaining the cellar I watched out the window for any signs of activity. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t half expecting company.
As I waited I wondered who would be more upset over the loss of the grandmother’s jewelry, Eileen, or her “lover” Claude. For you see, “Claude” was a kindred spirit to my profession. He was known to me as Carl , a slick operator born in Brooklyn. He had also had correctly read the signs that Eileen possessed that made her a temptingly easy mark. For you see, Carl was the inside man for a gang of jet setting thieves. Cultured and handsome, it was his part to lure the chosen rich lady into his web and wine and dine her into complete compliancy in preparation of his actions. Once he had obtained her trust, he would select the perfect evening and “Claude” and his heavily jeweled paramour would be set upon by the thieves shortly after returning home on the designated evening. The Lady would be bound and gagged then be forced to watch as her home was stripped of its valuable treasures. The gang would leave with their haul, melting into obscurity with their treasure. Carl would disappear to his home overseas in New York until the next operation was formed. How Carl had found out about Eileen, I had no doubts. The type of blokes who peddled information on vulnerably wealthy prey have no problems with selling the same tidbits to multiple clients. It does have a tendency to make life a bit more interesting on occasion.
I had kept tabs on Eileen’s crooked paramour and soon learned that Carl’s actual girlfriend, who had been posing as his sister Maxine, had booked passage for two to the United States on a steamer leaving the very next weekend. I realized that my window of opportunity had been forced open. If he was preparing to flee the country on Saturday, as was his way immediately after a job, than I surmised that Eileen would be met with misadventure on Friday night before. This also happened to be the evening of a major charity Ball she had bought tickets for her and “Claude” to attend. So tonight, Saturday one week before the steamer was to leave, I made my own move hoping to beat Carl and his gang of scoundrels to the punch, at least where the grandmothers jewelry collection was concerned. I didn’t know if they would still attempt their plan once they realized the jewels had been lifted from under their noses, although, for Eileen’s sake, I hoped they would abandon them. Both ways, my tracks were covered, and before the sunrise I would be miles away.
I gave myself 15 precious minutes, before leaving via the window and making my escape. Nothing had stirred, in or around the house. So I had interpreted the signs correctly, the raid was not on for tonight. I quickly moved out and made for the tree line, melting into the night, soon losing myself (and Eileen’s Jewels) to the darkness.
**************************************
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
Go-Go for a wild ride with the action girls! Russ Meyer, the king of exploitation, directs this lurid thrill-ride starring Tura Satana, Haji, and Lori Williams as a trio of dancers who turn to murder and mayhem on a road trip from hell. Varla is well-endowed, beautiful, physically powerful, savvy and conniving. She lives for kicks, but she's also got a serious mad on for the world, and anyone who crosses her finds out the hard way. Her job as a go-go dancer, supplemented by a part time career in petty crime has afforded her a sleek and fast sports car, which she enjoys riding in the desert with her fellow dancers. One of them, Rosie, has a crush on Varla, which she happily encourages, even if Varla is really more interested in the control it gives her over Rosie than in Rosie herself. The other dancer, Billie, is a little harder for Varla to manage, but Billie isn't bright enough to outmaneuver Varla.
When the little gang run into a square drag racer, he winds up getting into a fight with Varla, losing of course. Varla makes sure he never talks back again, then kidnaps his girlfriend and makes a run for it. BIllie and Rosie tag along, and they soon become involved in intrigue with an old letch in the desert rumored to have a stash of cash hidden away somewhere. When Varla starts to lose control of the situation, things (again) become violent, leading to a revved-up climax! Three strippers seeking thrills encounter a young couple in the desert. After dispatching the boyfriend, they take the girl hostage and begin scheming on a crippled old man living with his two sons in the desert, reputedly hiding a tidy sum of cash. They become houseguests of the old man and try and seduce the sons in an attempt to locate the money, not realizing that the old man has a few sinister intentions of his own.
synopsis
Exploitation maven Russ Meyer created a cult classic with this turbo-charged action film. Three curvaceous go-go dancers in a cool sports car go on a desert crime spree, led by Varla (the amazing Tura Satana), a busty, nasty woman dressed entirely in black. Varla's lesbian moll, Rosie (Haji) -- who has an extremely overwrought accent -- and reluctant bimbo Billie (Lori Williams) are along for the ride. When they meet a naïve young couple, Tommy and Linda (Ray Barlow and Sue Bernard), Varla challenges the man to a race then kills him by breaking his back. They take Linda hostage and drive to a house owned by a crippled old lecher (Stuart Lancaster) and his muscular but retarded son, Vegetable (Dennis Busch). Varla discovers that the old man has money hidden on the property, so the girls try to find it. Meanwhile, Vegetable's perverted father tries to trick him into assaulting one of the girls as he watches, but his other son (Paul Trinka) finally shows up to save the day. A great deal of bloodshed, campy catfighting, and funny dialogue fills the bulk of this fast-paced comic book of a movie.
Born 1946 Quebec,Canada
Passed on 2013
Birth Name - Barbarella Catton Nickname - Haji
Haji was a Cando-American actress renowned for starring in Russ Meyer's sexploitation classic Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965), in which she made her theatrical film debut. Barbarella Catton was born in Quebec City, Quebec on January 24, 1946, and at the age of 14, began dancing topless. The renamed Haji caught the eye of cinema's "King Leer" while performing as an exotic dancer.
He also cast her as one of three go-go dancers who turn into avenging furies in "Pussycat", which was her theatrical film debut as it was released before Motor Psycho (1965). She also appeared in Meyer's potboiler Good Morning... and Goodbye! (1967), his big budget Hollywood sextravaganza Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), and his cartoonish amalgamation of sex and violence, Supervixens (1975).
Haji died on August 10, 2013 at the age of 67.
Was a fervent supporter of animal rights and environmentalism. Interviewed in the book "Invasion of the B-Girls" by Jewel Shepard. Began as an exotic dancer. Moved to California at the age of fourteen and was discovered by filmmaker Russ Meyer performing in a topless bar. Her only child, a daughter she had at age 15, is named Cerlette. Haji was of British and Filipino descent, and her nickname was bestowed on her by an uncle. Was a friend and co-star of former stripper and long-time Russ Meyer paramour Kitten Natividad.
Haji, an Actress Featured in Cult Films by Russ Meyer, Dies at 67
By DANIEL E. SLOTNIK
Published: August 17, 2013
Haji, a voluptuous actress who played one of three homicidal go-go dancers in Russ Meyer’s 1965 cult film “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!,” died on Aug. 9 in Southern California. She was 67.
Her death was confirmed by the dancer and actress Kitten Natividad, a friend, who said she did not know the cause. She said Haji had high blood pressure and heart problems in recent years and was taken to a hospital after falling ill at a restaurant in Newport Beach.Haji, a brunette of Filipino and British descent, met Meyer, the celebrated B-movie director, in the mid-1960s while she worked in a strip club in California. He cast her as the lead in his biker movie “Motorpsycho” (1965) even though she had no acting experience.Later that year Haji appeared in “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!,” the tale of three dancers who beat a young man to death, kidnap his girlfriend and flee into the desert. She played the lesbian paramour of the lead character, Varla, played by Tura Satana. The film has acquired a devoted following and has been embraced by the filmmakers John Waters and Quentin Tarantino and even some feminists, including the film critic B. Ruby Rich, who praised it in The Village Voice as a “female fantasy.”“You just didn’t see women taking over and beating up men in those days,” Haji said in an interview posted on Russ Meyer’s Ultravixens, a Web site devoted to Meyer, who died in 2004, and his films. “Russ did something no one else had the imagination to do. And he was smart to use three bodied-up women, so whether the picture’s good or not, you still sort of stare at it.”Haji played a scantily clad bartender in Meyer’s “Supervixens” in 1975 and appeared in “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls,” the story of an all-woman rock band’s descent into debauchery. It was the first of Meyer’s films produced by a mainstream studio. She also acted in John Cassavetes’s gritty drama “The Killing of a Chinese Bookie” in 1976.
Haji was born in Quebec on Jan. 24, 1946. Ms. Natividad said that Haji’s last name at birth was Catton, and that she thought her given name was Cerlette. (The name Haji, she said, was a nickname given to her by an uncle.) Haji left school before finishing the sixth grade and began stripping at 14. She had a daughter, also named Cerlette, at 15. She lived in Oxnard, Calif. Her survivors include her daughter and a granddaughter. Haji’s last screen role was in the 2003 comedy “Killer Drag Queens on Dope.”
www.nytimes.com/2013/08/18/arts/haji-an-actress-featured-...;
In this photo below, you can see Tane, my once-bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed previous assistant. After a rather strenuous and stressful China leg to the tour and in the throes of young love, he has decided to head over to the USA to pursue his college sweetheart, Ash. His heart beats away like a jungle drum inside of his smooth dolphin chest, and soon that chest will flutter across the mixed metaphor of the Atlantic Sea to rejoin his paramour. Thusly, I have lost an assistant and New Zealand has lost a national hero.
So now, I needs me a new one. What's involved? Well, first let's talk about what you get, then talk about what you gotta do.
First, you'll travel around the world with us and everything is included from air travel to board. For example, across our tours in USA, Europe, and Asia, we stayed in over 40 different Ritz-Carltons and other partner hotels, so we're not exactly slummin' it. You get to take photos alongside the team, learn a lot about the visual arts, and see some of the most amazing things in the world. You'll have adventures that are indescribable. You'll also have the freedom to create a great many things within the organization from photos to books to film and more. You'll be on the cutting edge of tech, media, and social media. You'll also end up going down many philosophical rabbit holes if you so choose.
Now, what is required from you? Well, mostly a willingness to do everything from the most awesome to the most mundane. Remember, anything I ask you to do is something that I have been willing to do myself for the past ten years. So, if it's not below me, it's not below you. We're a small company (about eight people), so everyone does a little bit of everything.
Remember, it's my goal to be the dumbest person at the company. So I hope you're clever and enthusiastic. I find that gets you through most anything.
To name a few of these tasks, in no particular order: Organizing photos and videos, backing up data, editing video, charging camera batteries, sending videos to our editors in Brisbane and Scotland, carrying a lot of stuff, shooting video while carrying a super-heavy gimbal, meeting with our art collectors, getting me smoothies or wine depending on the time of day, writing newsletters, copy/pasting blog posts, creating eBooks from existing assets, getting supplies for the studio, driving my kids around when we need another set of wheels, keeping meticulous track of social stats in spreadsheets, getting us sandwiches on those 14-hour days, cleaning our Burning Man RV, procurement, drone piloting and prep, graphic design for social media reports for partners and other marketing needs, Lightroom basics, Photoshop basics, laughing at my jokes, writing skills that are way above average, making cocktails at our studio bar for soirees, driving us around on photo shoots throughout New Zealand and the world, hiking long distances while carrying a lot of shit, managing our online store at Store.StuckInCustoms.com , keeping up with the latest trends in social media, and generally anticipating what needs to be done before we ask for it.
You'll also need to live here in Queenstown or Arrowtown, New Zealand. While I am in studio here, you'll come in every day during normal working hours and you have your own little office with a window view of beautiful New Zealand (that is blocked by a huge bush).
It's certainly a rather stringent set of requirements, I realize... sort of like Another Trey. A clone. A clone of my own... willing to work ridiculous hours while chipping away at short-term and long-term goals.
Interested? Then send us some goodies at business@stuckincustoms.com ! We expect a large volume of applicants, so don't feel bad if you don't get a personal response from me or the team. We'll definitely look at every application, though! Thank you for your time... and if it doesn't work out with us, I hope it works out for you in one way or another! -Trey
And so to the weekend again. And what might be the last orchid-free weekend until well into June or even August.
So, enjoy the churches while you can.
Saturday, and not much really planned. We get up at half six with it fully light outside. The cloud and drizzle had not arrived, instead it was pretty clear and sunny.
No time for thinking about going out to take shots, as we had hunter-gathering to do.
In fact, we didn't need much, just the usual stuff to keep us going. That and the car was running on fumes. So we will that up first, and then into Tesco and round and round we go, fully the trolley up. It being Mother's Day on Saturday, we were having Jen round on Sunday, we were to have steak, so I get mushrooms.
And once back, we have breakfast then go to Preston for the actual steak, three ribeyes, all cut from the same stip. Jools had gone to look at the garden centre for ideas as we're going to dig up the raspberries, so just wondering what to put in their place.
By then the rain had come, and so we dashed back to the car, and on the way home called in at two churches.
First off was Goodnestone, just the other side of Wingham.
Its a fine estate church, covered in wonderfully knapped bricks, giving it an East Anglian feel. Before we went in, we sheltered under a tree to much on a sausage roll I had bought at the butcher, that done, we go to the church, which is open.
I have been here quite recently, five years back, and in truth no much glass to record, but I do my best, leave a fiver of the weekly collection and we drove over the fields to Eastry.
St Mary is an impressive church, with carved and decorated west face of the Norman tower, at its base an odd lean-to porch has been created, leading into the church, which does have interest other than the 35 painted medallions high in the Chancel Arch, once the backdrop to the Rood.
I snap them with the big lens, and the windows too. A warden points out what looks like a very much older painted window high among the roof timbers in the east wall of the Chancel.
I get a shot, which is good enough, but even with a 400mm lens, is some crop.
I finish up and we go home, taking it carefully along nearly flooded roads.
Being a Saturday, there is football, though nothing much of interest until three when Norwich kick off against Stoke: could they kick it on a wet Saturday afternoon in the Potteries?
No. No, they couldn't.
Ended 0-0, City second best, barely laid a glove on the Stoke goal.
And then spots galore: Ireland v England in the egg-chasing, Citeh v Burnley in the Cup and Chelsea v Everton in the league, all live on various TV channels.
I watch the first half of the rugby, then switch over when England were reduced to 14, so did enjoy the lad Haarland score another hat-trick in a 6-0 demolition.
And that was that, another day over with.....
---------------------------------------------
Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
------------------------------------------
Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
----------------------------------------------------
EASTRY,
THE next parish north-eastward from Knolton is Eastry. At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, it was of such considerable account, that it not only gave name, as it does at present, to the hundred, but to the greatest part of the lath in which it stands, now called the lath of St. Augustine. There are two boroughs in this parish, viz. the borough of Hardenden, which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford, and comprehends the districts of Hardenden, Selson and Skrinkling, and the borough of Eastry, the borsholder of which is chosen at Eastry-court, and comprehends all the rest of the parish, excepting so much of it as lies within that part of the borough of Felderland, which is within this parish.
THE PARISH OF EASTRY, a healthy and not unpleasant situation, is about two miles and an half from north to south, but it is much narrower the other way, at the broadest extent of which it is not more than a mile and an half. The village of Eastry is situated on a pleasing eminence, almost in the centre of the parish, exhiblting a picturesque appearance from many points of view. The principal street in it is called Eastrystreet; from it branch off Mill street, Church-street and Brook-street. In Mill street is a spacious handsome edisice lately erected there, as a house of industry, for the poor of the several united parishes of Eastry, Norborne, Betshanger, Tilmanstone, Waldershare, Coldred, Lydden, Shebbertswell, Swynfield, Wootton, Denton, Chillenden and Knolton. In Churchstreet, on the east side, stands the church, with the court-lodge and parsonage adjoining the church-yard; in this street is likewise the vicarage. In Brook-street, is a neat modern house, the residence of Wm. Boteler, esq. and another belonging to Mr. Thomas Rammell, who resides in it. Mention will be found hereafter, under the description of the borough of Hernden, in this parish, of the descent and arms of the Botelers resident there for many generations. Thomas Boteler, who died possessed of that estate in 1651, left three sons, the youngest of whom, Richard, was of Brook-street, and died in 1682; whose great-grandson, W. Boteler, esq. is now of Brook-street; a gentleman to whom the editor is much indebted for his communications and assistance, towards the description of this hundred, and its adjoining neighbourhood. He has been twice married; first to Sarah, daughter and coheir of Thomas Fuller, esq. of Statenborough, by whom he has one son, William Fuller, now a fellow of St. Peter's college, Cambridge: secondly, to Mary, eldest daughter of John Harvey, esq. of Sandwich and Hernden, late captain of the royal navy, by whom he has five sons and three daughters. He bears for his arms, Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or; which coat was granted to his ancestor, Richard Boteler, esq. of Hernden, by Cooke, clar. in 1589. Mr. Boteler, of Eastry, is the last surviving male of the family, both of Hernden and Brook-street. Eastry-street, comprizing the neighbourhood of the above mentioned branches, may be said to contain about sixty-four houses.
At the south-east boundary of this parish lies the hamlet of Updown, adjoining to Ham and Betshanger, in the former of which parishes some account of it has been already given. At the southern bounds, adjoining to Tilmanstone, lies the hamlet of Westone, formerly called Wendestone. On the western side lies the borough of Hernden, which although in this parish, is yet within the hundred of Downhamford and manor of Adisham; in the southern part of it is Shrinkling, or Shingleton, as it is now called, and the hamlet of Hernden. At the northern part of this borough lie the hamlets and estates of Selson, Wells, and Gore. Towards the northern boundary of the parish, in the road to Sandwich, is the hamlet of Statenborough, and at a small distance from it is that part of the borough of Felderland, or Fenderland, as it is usually called, within this parish, in which, adjoining the road which branches off to Word, is a small seat, now the property and residence of Mrs. Dare, widow of Wm. Dare, esq. who resides in it. (fn. 1)
Round the village the lands are for a little distance, and on towards Statenborough, inclosed with hedges and trees, but the rest of the parish is in general an open uninclosed country of arable land, like the neighbouring ones before described; the soil of it towards the north is most fertile, in the other parts it is rather thin, being much inclined to chalk, except in the bottoms, where it is much of a stiff clay, for this parish is a continued inequality of hill and dale; notwithstanding the above, there is a great deal of good fertile land in the parish, which meets on an average rent at fifteen shillings an acre. There is no wood in it. The parish contains about two thousand six hundred and fifty acres; the yearly rents of it are assessed to the poor at 2679l.
At the south end of the village is a large pond, called Butsole; and adjoining to it on the east side, a field, belonging to Brook-street estate, called the Butts; from whence it is conjectured that Butts were formerly erected in it, for the practice of archery among the inhabitants.
A fair is held here for cattle, pedlary, and toys, on October the 2d, (formerly on St. Matthew's day, September the 21st) yearly.
IN 1792, MR. BOTELER, of Brook-street, discovered, on digging a cellar in the garden of a cottage, situated eastward of the highway leading from Eastrycross to Butsole, an antient burying ground, used as such in the latter time of the Roman empire in Britain, most probably by the inhabitants of this parish, and the places contiguous to it. He caused several graves to be opened, and found with the skeletons, fibulæ, beads, knives,umbones of shields, &c. and in one a glass vessel. From other skeletons, which have been dug up in the gardens nearer the cross, it is imagined, that they extended on the same side the road up to the cross, the ground of which is now pretty much covered with houses; the heaps of earth, or barrows, which formerly remained over them, have long since been levelled, by the great length of time and the labour of the husbandman; the graves were very thick, in rows parallel to each other, in a direction from east to west.
St. Ivo's well, mentioned by Nierembergius, in Historia de Miraculis Natureæ, lib. ii. cap. 33; which I noticed in my folio edition as not being able to find any tradition of in this parish, I have since found was at a place that formerly went by the name of Estre, and afterwards by that of Plassiz, near St. Ives, in Huntingdonshire. See Gales Scriptores, xv. vol. i. p.p. 271, 512.
This place gave birth to Henry de Eastry, who was first a monk, and then prior of Christ-church, in Canterbury; who, for his learning as well as his worthy acts, became an ornament, not only to the society he presided over, but to his country in general. He continued prior thirty-seven years, and died, far advanced in life, in 1222.
THIS PLACE, in the time of the Saxons, appears to have been part of the royal domains, accordingly Simon of Durham, monk and precentor of that church, in his history, stiles it villa regalis, quæ vulgari dicitur Easterige pronuncione, (the royal ville, or manor, which in the vulgar pronunciation was called Easterige), which shews the antient pre-eminence and rank of this place, for these villæ regales, or regiæ, as Bede calls them, of the Saxons, were usually placed upon or near the spot, where in former ages the Roman stations had been before; and its giving name both to the lath and hundred in which it is situated corroborates the superior consequence it was then held in. Egbert, king of Kent, was in possession of it about the year 670, at which time his two cousins, Ethelred and Ethelbright, sons of his father's elder brother Ermenfrid, who had been entrusted to his care by their uncle, the father of Egbert, were, as writers say, murdered in his palace here by his order, at the persuasion of one Thunnor, a slattering courtier, lest they should disturb him in the possession of the crown. After which Thunnor buried them in the king's hall here, under the cloth of estate, from whence, as antient tradition reports, their bodies were afterwards removed to a small chapel belonging to the palace, and buried there under the altar at the east end of it, and afterwards again with much pomp to the church of Ramsey abbey. To expiate the king's guilt, according to the custom of those times, he gave to Domneva, called also Ermenburga, their sister, a sufficient quantity of land in the isle of Thanet, on which she might found a monastery.
How long it continued among the royal domains, I have not found; but before the termination of the Saxon heptarchy, THE MANOR OF EASTRY was become part of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, and it remained so till the year 811, when archbishop Wilfred exchanged it with his convent of Christchurch for their manor of Bourne, since from the archbishop's possession of it called Bishopsbourne. After which, in the year 979 king Ægelred, usually called Ethelred, increased the church's estates here, by giving to it the lands of his inheritance in Estrea, (fn. 2) free from all secular service and siscal tribute, except the repelling of invasions and the repairing of bridges and castles, usually stiled the trinoda necessitas; (fn. 3) and in the possession of the prior and convent bove-mentioned, this manor continued at the taking of the survey of Domesday, being entered in it under the general title of Terra Monachorum Archiepi; that is, the land of the monks of the archbishop, as follows:
In the lath of Estrei in Estrei hundred, the archbishop himself holds Estrei. It was taxed at Seven sulings. The arable land is . . . . In demesne there are three carucates and seventy two villeins, with twenty-two borderers, having twenty-four carucates. There is one mill and a half of thirty shillings, and three salt pits of four shillings, and eighteen acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of ten hogs.
After which, this manor continued in the possession of the priory, and in the 10th year of king Edward II. the prior obtained a grant of free-warren in all his demesne lands in it, among others; about which time it was valued at 65l. 3s. after which king Henry VI. in his 28th year, confirmed the above liberty, and granted to it a market, to be held at Eastry weekly on a Tuesday, and a fair yearly, on the day of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist; in which state it continued till the dissolution of the priory in the 31st year of king Henry VIII. when it came in to the king's hands, where it did not remain long, for he settled it, among other premises, in the 33d year of his reign, on his new created dean and chapter of Canterbury, part of whose possessions it continues at this time. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
The manerial rights, profits of courts, royalties, &c. the dean and chapter retain in their own hands; but the demesne lands of the manor, with the courtlodge, which is a large antient mansion, situated adjoining to the church-yard, have been from time to time demised on a benesicial lease. The house is large, partly antient and partly modern, having at different times undergone great alterations. In the south wall are the letters T. A. N. in flint, in large capitals, being the initials of Thomas and Anne Nevinson. Mr. Isaac Bargrave, father of the present lessee, new fronted the house, and the latter in 1786 put the whole in complete repair, in doing which, he pulled down a considerable part of the antient building, consisting of stone walls of great strength and thickness, bringing to view some gothic arched door ways of stone, which proved the house to have been of such construction formerly, and to have been a very antient building. The chapel, mentioned before, is at the east end of the house. The east window, consisting of three compartments, is still visible, though the spaces are filled up, it having for many years been converted into a kitchen, and before the last alteration by Mr. Bargrave the whole of it was entire.
At this mansion, then in the hands of the prior and convent of Christ-church, archbishop Thomas Becket, after his stight from Northampton in the year 1164, concealed himself for eight days, and then, on Nov. 10, embarked at Sandwich for France. (fn. 4)
The present lessee is Isaac Bargrave, esq. who resides at the court-lodge, whose ancestors have been lessees of this estate for many years past.
THE NEVINSONS, as lessees, resided at the courtlodge of Eastry for many years. They were originally of Brigend, in Wetherell, in Cumberland. They bore for their arms, Argent, a chevron, between three eagles displayed, azure. Many of them lie buried in Eastry church. (fn. 5)
THE FAMILY of Bargrave, alias Bargar, was originally of Bridge, and afterwards of the adjoining parish of Patrixbourne; where John Bargrave, eldest son of Robert, built the seat of Bifrons, and resided at it, of whom notice has already been taken in vol. ix. of this history, p. 280. Isaac Bargrave, the sixth son of Robert above-mentioned, and younger brother of John, who built Bifrons, was ancestor of the Bargraves, of Eastry; he was S. T. P. and dean of Canterbury, a man of strict honour and high principles of loyalty, for which he suffered the most cruel treatment. He died in 1642, having married in 1618 Elizabeth, daughter of John Dering, esq. of Egerton, by Elizabeth, sister of Edward lord Wotton, the son of John Dering, esq. of Surrenden, by Margaret Brent. Their descendant, Isaac Bargrave, esq. now living, was an eminent solicitor in London, from which he has retired for some years, and now resides at Eastry-court, of which he is the present lessee. He married Sarah, eldest daughter of George Lynch, M. D. of Canterbury, who died at Herne in 1787, S.P. They bear for their arms, Or, on a pale gules, a sword, the blade argent, pomelled, or, on a chief vert three bezants.
SHRINKLING, alias SHINGLETON, the former of which is its original name, though now quite lost, is a small manor at the south-west boundary of this pa Kent, anno 1619. rish, adjoining to Nonington. It is within the borough of Heronden, or Hardonden, as it is now called, and as such, is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. This manor had antiently owners of the same name; one of whom, Sir William de Scrinkling, held it in king Edward I.'s reign, and was succeeded by Sir Walter de Scrinkling his son, who held it by knight's service of Hamo de Crevequer, (fn. 6) and in this name it continued in the 20th year of king Edward III.
Soon after which it appears to have been alienated to William Langley, of Knolton, from which name it passed in like manner as Knolton to the Peytons and the Narboroughs, and thence by marriage to Sir Thomas D'Aeth, whose grandson Sir Narborough D'Aeth, bart. now of Knolton, is at present entitled to it.
There was a chapel belonging to this manor, the ruins of which are still visible in the wood near it, which was esteemed as a chapel of ease to the mother church of Eastry, and was appropriated with it by archbishop Richard, Becket's immediate successor, to the almory of the priory of Christ-church; but the chapel itself seems to have become desolate many years before the dissolution of the priory, most probably soon after the family of Shrinkling became extinct; the Langleys, who resided at the adjoining manor of Knolton, having no occasion for the use of it. The chapel stood in Shingleton wood, near the south east corner; the foundations of it have been traced, though level with the surface, and not easily discovered. There is now on this estate only one house, built within memory, before which there was only a solitary barn, and no remains of the antient mansion of it.
HERONDEN, alias HARDENDEN, now usually called HERONDEN, is a district in this parish, situated about a mile northward from Shingleton, within the borough of its own name, the whole of which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. It was once esteemed as a manor, though it has not had even the name of one for many years past, the manor of Adisham claiming over it. The mansion of it was antiently the residence of a family of the same name, who bore for their arms, Argent, a heron with one talon erect, gaping for breath, sable. These arms are on a shield, which is far from modern, in Maidstone church, being quarterly, Heronden as above, with sable, three escallop shells, two and one, argent; and in a window of Lincoln's Inn chapel is a coat of arms of a modern date, being that of Anthony Heronden, esq. Argent, a heron, azure, between three escallops, sable. One of this family of Heronden lies buried in this church, and in the time of Robert Glover, Somerset herald, his portrait and coat of arms, in brass, were remaining on his tombstone. The coat of arms is still extant in very old rolls and registers in the Heralds office, where the family is stiled Heronden, of Heronden, in Eastry; nor is the name less antient, as appears by deeds which commence from the reign of Henry III. which relate to this estate and name; but after this family had remained possessed of this estate for so many years it at last descended down in king Richard II.'s reign, to Sir William Heronden, from whom it passed most probably either by gift or sale, to one of the family of Boteler, or Butler, then resident in this neighbourhood, descended from those of this name, formerly seated at Butler's sleet, in Ash, whose ancestor Thomas Pincerna, or le Boteler, held that manor in king John's reign, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, alias Boteler, or as they were frequently written Botiller, and bore for their arms, One or more covered cups, differently placed and blazoned. In this family the estate descended to John Boteler, who lived in the time of king Henry VI. and resided at Sandwich, of which town he was several times mayor, and one of the burgesses in two parliaments of that reign; he lies buried in St. Peter's church there. His son Richard, who was also of Sandwich, had a grant of arms in 1470, anno 11th Edward IV. by Thomas Holme, norroy, viz. Gyronny of six, argent and sable, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counterchanged of the field, collared, gules, garnished of the third. His great-grandson Henry Boteler rebuilt the mansion of Heronden, to which he removed in 1572, being the last of his family who resided at Sandwich. He had the above grant of arms confirmed to him, and died in 1580, being buried in Eastry church. Richard Boteler, of Heronden, his eldest son by his first wife, resided at this seat, and in 1589 obtained a grant from Robert Cook, clarencieux, of a new coat of arms, viz. Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three convered cups, or. Ten years after which, intending as it should seem, to shew himself a descendant of the family of this name, seated at Graveney, but then extinct, he obtained in 1599 a grant of their arms from William Dethic, garter, and William Camden, clarencieux, to him and his brother William, viz. Quarterly, first and fourth, sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; second and third, Argent, a fess, chequy, argent and gules, in chief three cross-croslets of the last, as appears (continues the grant) on a gravestone in Graveney church. He died in 1600, and was buried in Eastry church, leaving issue among other children Jonathan and Thomas. (fn. 7) Jonathan Boteler, the eldest son, of Hernden, died unmarried possessed of it in 1626, upon which it came to his next surviving brother Thomas Boteler, of Rowling, who upon that removed to Hernden, and soon afterwards alienated that part of it, since called THE MIDDLE FARM, to Mr. Henry Pannell, from whom soon afterwards, but how I know not, it came into the family of Reynolds; from which name it was about fifty years since alienated to John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, who dying in 1762, devised it to his nephew John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, the present possessor of it.
THIS PARISH is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sandwich.
The church, which is exempted from the archdeacon, is dedicated to St. Mary; it is a large handsome building, consisting of a nave and two side isles, a chancel at the east end, remarkably long, and a square tower, which is very large, at the west end, in which are five very unmusical bells. The church is well kept and neatly paved, and exhibits a noble appearance, to which the many handsome monuments in it contribute much. The arch over the west door is circular, but no other parts of the church has any shew of great antiquity. In the chancel are monuments for the Paramors and the Fullers, of Statenborough, arms of the latter, Argent, three bars, and a canton, gules. A monument for several of the Bargrave family. An elegant pyramidial one, on which is a bust and emblematical sculpture for John Broadley, gent. many years surgeon at Dover, obt. 1784. Several gravestones, with brasses, for the Nevinsons. A gravestone for Joshua Paramour, gent. buried 1650. Underneath this chancel are two vaults, for the families of Paramour and Bargrave. In the nave, a monument for Anne, daughter of Solomon Harvey, gent. of this parish, ob. 1751; arms, Argent, on a chevron, between three lions gambs, sable, armed gules, three crescents, or; another for William Dare, esq. late of Fenderland, in this parish, obt. 1770; arms, Gules, a chevron vaire, between three crescents, argent, impaling argent, on a cross, sable, four lions passant, quardant of the field, for Read.—Against the wall an inscription in Latin, for the Drue Astley Cressemer, A. M. forty-eight years vicar of this parish, obt. 1746; he presented the communion plate to this church and Worth, and left a sum of money to be laid out in ornamenting this church, at which time the antient stalls, which were in the chancel, were taken away, and the chancel was ceiled, and the church otherwise beautified; arms, Argent, on a bend engrailed, sable, three cross-croslets, fitchee, or. A monument for several of the Botelers, of this parish; arms, Boteler, argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or, impaling Morrice. Against a pillar, a tablet and inscription, shewing that in a vault lieth Catherine, wife of John Springett, citizen and apothecary of London. He died in 1770; arms, Springett, per fess, argent and gules, a fess wavy, between three crescents, counterchanged, impaling Harvey. On the opposite pillar another, for the Rev. Richard Harvey, fourteen years vicar of this parish, obt. 1772. A monument for Richard Kelly, of Eastry, obt. 1768; arms, Two lions rampant, supporting a castle. Against the wall, an elegant sculptured monument, in alto relievo, for Sarah, wise of William Boteler, a daughter of Thomas Fuller, esq. late of Statenborough, obt. 1777, æt. 29; she died in childbed, leaving one son, William Fuller Boteler; arms at bottom, Boteler, as above, an escutcheon of pretence, Fuller, quartering Paramor. An elegant pyramidal marble and tablet for Robert Bargrave, of this parish, obt. 1779, for Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Sir Francis Leigh, of Hawley; and for Robert Bargrave, their only son, proctor in Doctors Commons, obt. 1774, whose sole surviving daughter Rebecca married James Wyborne, of Sholdon; arms, Bargrave, with a mullet, impaling Leigh. In the cross isle, near the chancel called the Boteler's isle, are several memorials for the Botelers. Adjoining to these, are three other gravestones, all of which have been inlaid, but the brasses are gone; they were for the same family, and on one of them was lately remaining the antient arms of Boteler, Girony of six pieces, &c. impaling ermine of three spots. Under the church are vaults, for the families of Springett, Harvey, Dare, and Bargrave. In the church-yard, on the north side of the church, are several altar tombs for the Paramors; and on the south side are several others for the Harveys, of this parish, and for Fawlkner, Rammell, and Fuller. There are also vaults for the families of Fuller, Rammell, and Petman.
There were formerly painted in the windows of this church, these arms, Girony of six, sable and argent, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counter changed of the field, collared, gules; for Boteler, of Heronden, impaling Boteler, of Graveny, Sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; Boteler, of Heronden, as above, quartering three spots, ermine; the coat of Theobald, with quarterings. Several of the Frynnes, or as they were afterwards called, Friends, who lived at Waltham in this parish in king Henry VII.'s reign, lie buried in this church.
In the will of William Andrewe, of this parish, anno 1507, mention is made of our Ladie chapel, in the church-yard of the church of Estrie.
The eighteen stalls which were till lately in the chancel of the church, were for the use of the monks of the priory of Christ church, owners both of the manor and appropriation, when they came to pass any time at this place, as they frequently did, as well for a country retirement as to manage their concerns here; and for any other ecclesiastics, who might be present at divine service here, all such, in those times, sitting in the chancels of churches distinct from the laity.
The church of Eastry, with the chapels of Skrinkling and Worth annexed, was antiently appendant to the manor of Eastry, and was appropriated by archbishop Richard (successor to archbishop Becket) in the reign of king Henry II. to the almonry of the priory of Christ-church, but it did not continue long so, for archbishop Baldwin, (archbishop Richard's immediate successor), having quarrelled with the monks, on account of his intended college at Hackington, took this appropriation from them, and thus it remained as a rectory, at the archbishop's disposal, till the 39th year of king Edward III.'s reign, (fn. 10) when archbishop Simon Islip, with the king's licence, restored, united and annexed it again to the priory; but it appears, that in return for this grant, the archbishop had made over to him, by way of exchange, the advowsons of the churches of St. Dunstan, St. Pancrase, and All Saints in Bread-street, in London, all three belonging to the priory. After which, that is anno 8 Richard II. 1384, this church was valued among the revenues of the almonry of Christ-church, at the yearly value of 53l. 6s. 8d. and it continued afterwards in the same state in the possession of the monks, who managed it for the use of the almonry, during which time prior William Sellyng, who came to that office in Edward IV.'s reign, among other improvements on several estates belonging to his church, built a new dormitory at this parsonage for the monks resorting hither.
On the dissolution of the priory of Christ-church, in the 31st year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, this appropriation, with the advowson of the vicarage of the church of Eastry, was surrendered into the king's hands, where it staid but a small time, for he granted it in his 33d year, by his dotation charter, to his new founded dean and chapter of Canterbury, who are the present owners of this appropriation; but the advowson of the vicarage, notwithstanding it was granted with the appropriation, to the dean and chapter as above-mentioned, appears not long afterwards to have become parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, where it continues at this time, his grace the archbishop being the present patron of it.
This parsonage is entitled to the great tithes of this parish and of Worth; there belong to it of glebe land in Eastry, Tilmanstone, and Worth, in all sixtynine acres.
THERE IS A SMALL MANOR belonging to it, called THE MANOR OF THE AMBRY, OR ALMONRY OF CHRIST-CHURCH, the quit-rents of which are very inconsiderable.
The parsonage-house is large and antient; in the old parlour window is a shield of arms, being those of Partheriche, impaling quarterly Line and Hamerton. The parsonage is of the annual rent of about 700l. The countess dowager of Guildford became entitled to the lease of this parsonage, by the will of her husband the earl of Guildford, and since her death the interest of it is become vested in her younger children.
As to the origin of a vicarage in this church, though there was one endowed in it by archbishop Peckham, in the 20th year of king Edward I. anno 1291, whilst this church continued in the archbishop's hands, yet I do not find that there was a vicar instituted in it, but that it remained as a rectory, till near three years after it had been restored to the priory of Christchurch, when, in the 42d year of king Edward III. a vicar was instituted in it, between whom and the prior and chapter of Canterbury, there was a composition concerning his portion, which he should have as an endowment of this vicarage; which composition was confirmed by archbishop Simon Langham that year; and next year there was an agreement entered into between the eleemosinary of Christ-church and the vicar, concerning the manse of this vicarage.
The vicarage of Eastry, with the chapel of Worth annexed, is valued in the king's books at 19l. 12s. 1d. and the yearly tenths at 1l. 19s. 2½d. In 1588 it was valued at sixty pounds. Communicants three hundred and thirty-five. In 1640 here were the like number of communicants, and it was valued at one hundred pounds.
The antient pension of 5l. 6s. 8d. formerly paid by the priory, is still paid to the vicar by the dean and chapter, and also an augmentation of 14l. 13s. 4d. yearly, by the lessee of the parsonage, by a convenant in his lease.
The vicarage-house is built close to the farm-yard of the parsonage; the land allotted to it is very trifling, not even sufficient for a tolerable garden; the foundations of the house are antient, and probably part of the original building when the vicarage was endowed in 1367.
¶There were two awards made in 1549 and 1550, on a controversy between the vicar of Eastry and the mayor, &c. of Sandwich, whether the scite of St. Bartholomew's hospital, near Sandwich, within that port and liberty, was subject to the payment of tithes to the vicar, as being within his parish. Both awards adjudged the legality of a payment, as due to the vicar; but the former award adjudged that the scite of the hospital was not, and the latter, that it was within the bounds of this parish. (fn. 12)
The days drag and the weeks fly by.
It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.
The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.
But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.
Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.
We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.
Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.
There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.
We won't starve.
We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.
Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.
Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.
What to do with the day?
Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.
First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.
No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.
Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.
Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.
The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.
indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.
Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.
And it was.
The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.
got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.
We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.
Three peppers cost £50!
Then back home, along the A2.
And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.
Yummy.
There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.
At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.
And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.
Oh dear.
Oh dear indeed.
We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.
------------------------------------------------
A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2
------------------------------------------
ASH
LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.
The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.
There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.
William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.
In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.
¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.
f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.
This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.
Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.
The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.
In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.
Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.
It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.
The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.
The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.
During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."
The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.
The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.
The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.
It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.
Charities.
A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.
Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.
John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.
Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.
Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.
The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.
There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.
There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.
In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.
John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)
The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.
¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.
The days drag and the weeks fly by.
It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.
The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.
But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.
Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.
We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.
Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.
There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.
We won't starve.
We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.
Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.
Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.
What to do with the day?
Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.
First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.
No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.
Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.
Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.
The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.
indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.
Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.
And it was.
The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.
got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.
We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.
Three peppers cost £50!
Then back home, along the A2.
And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.
Yummy.
There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.
At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.
And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.
Oh dear.
Oh dear indeed.
We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.
------------------------------------------------
A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2
------------------------------------------
ASH
LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.
The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.
There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.
William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.
In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.
¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.
f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.
This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.
Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.
The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.
In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.
Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.
It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.
The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.
The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.
During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."
The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.
The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.
The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.
It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.
Charities.
A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.
Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.
John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.
Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.
Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.
The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.
There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.
There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.
In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.
John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)
The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.
¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.
The days drag and the weeks fly by.
It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.
The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.
But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.
Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.
We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.
Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.
There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.
We won't starve.
We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.
Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.
Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.
What to do with the day?
Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.
First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.
No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.
Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.
Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.
The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.
indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.
Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.
And it was.
The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.
got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.
We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.
Three peppers cost £50!
Then back home, along the A2.
And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.
Yummy.
There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.
At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.
And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.
Oh dear.
Oh dear indeed.
We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.
------------------------------------------------
A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2
------------------------------------------
ASH
LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.
The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.
There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.
William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.
In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.
¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.
f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.
This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.
Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.
The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.
In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.
Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.
It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.
The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.
The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.
During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."
The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.
The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.
The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.
It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.
Charities.
A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.
Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.
John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.
Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.
Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.
The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.
There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.
There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.
In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.
John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)
The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.
¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.
The days drag and the weeks fly by.
It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.
The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.
But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.
Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.
We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.
Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.
There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.
We won't starve.
We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.
Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.
Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.
What to do with the day?
Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.
First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.
No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.
Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.
Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.
The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.
indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.
Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.
And it was.
The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.
got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.
We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.
Three peppers cost £50!
Then back home, along the A2.
And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.
Yummy.
There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.
At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.
And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.
Oh dear.
Oh dear indeed.
We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.
------------------------------------------------
A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2
------------------------------------------
ASH
LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.
The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.
There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.
William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.
In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.
¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.
f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.
This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.
Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.
The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.
In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.
Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.
It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.
The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.
The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.
During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."
The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.
The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.
The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.
It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.
Charities.
A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.
Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.
John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.
Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.
Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.
The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.
There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.
There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.
The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.
This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.
The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.
In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.
John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)
The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.
¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.
And so to the weekend again. And what might be the last orchid-free weekend until well into June or even August.
So, enjoy the churches while you can.
Saturday, and not much really planned. We get up at half six with it fully light outside. The cloud and drizzle had not arrived, instead it was pretty clear and sunny.
No time for thinking about going out to take shots, as we had hunter-gathering to do.
In fact, we didn't need much, just the usual stuff to keep us going. That and the car was running on fumes. So we will that up first, and then into Tesco and round and round we go, fully the trolley up. It being Mother's Day on Saturday, we were having Jen round on Sunday, we were to have steak, so I get mushrooms.
And once back, we have breakfast then go to Preston for the actual steak, three ribeyes, all cut from the same stip. Jools had gone to look at the garden centre for ideas as we're going to dig up the raspberries, so just wondering what to put in their place.
By then the rain had come, and so we dashed back to the car, and on the way home called in at two churches.
First off was Goodnestone, just the other side of Wingham.
Its a fine estate church, covered in wonderfully knapped bricks, giving it an East Anglian feel. Before we went in, we sheltered under a tree to much on a sausage roll I had bought at the butcher, that done, we go to the church, which is open.
I have been here quite recently, five years back, and in truth no much glass to record, but I do my best, leave a fiver of the weekly collection and we drove over the fields to Eastry.
St Mary is an impressive church, with carved and decorated west face of the Norman tower, at its base an odd lean-to porch has been created, leading into the church, which does have interest other than the 35 painted medallions high in the Chancel Arch, once the backdrop to the Rood.
I snap them with the big lens, and the windows too. A warden points out what looks like a very much older painted window high among the roof timbers in the east wall of the Chancel.
I get a shot, which is good enough, but even with a 400mm lens, is some crop.
I finish up and we go home, taking it carefully along nearly flooded roads.
Being a Saturday, there is football, though nothing much of interest until three when Norwich kick off against Stoke: could they kick it on a wet Saturday afternoon in the Potteries?
No. No, they couldn't.
Ended 0-0, City second best, barely laid a glove on the Stoke goal.
And then spots galore: Ireland v England in the egg-chasing, Citeh v Burnley in the Cup and Chelsea v Everton in the league, all live on various TV channels.
I watch the first half of the rugby, then switch over when England were reduced to 14, so did enjoy the lad Haarland score another hat-trick in a 6-0 demolition.
And that was that, another day over with.....
---------------------------------------------
Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
------------------------------------------
Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
----------------------------------------------------
EASTRY,
THE next parish north-eastward from Knolton is Eastry. At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, it was of such considerable account, that it not only gave name, as it does at present, to the hundred, but to the greatest part of the lath in which it stands, now called the lath of St. Augustine. There are two boroughs in this parish, viz. the borough of Hardenden, which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford, and comprehends the districts of Hardenden, Selson and Skrinkling, and the borough of Eastry, the borsholder of which is chosen at Eastry-court, and comprehends all the rest of the parish, excepting so much of it as lies within that part of the borough of Felderland, which is within this parish.
THE PARISH OF EASTRY, a healthy and not unpleasant situation, is about two miles and an half from north to south, but it is much narrower the other way, at the broadest extent of which it is not more than a mile and an half. The village of Eastry is situated on a pleasing eminence, almost in the centre of the parish, exhiblting a picturesque appearance from many points of view. The principal street in it is called Eastrystreet; from it branch off Mill street, Church-street and Brook-street. In Mill street is a spacious handsome edisice lately erected there, as a house of industry, for the poor of the several united parishes of Eastry, Norborne, Betshanger, Tilmanstone, Waldershare, Coldred, Lydden, Shebbertswell, Swynfield, Wootton, Denton, Chillenden and Knolton. In Churchstreet, on the east side, stands the church, with the court-lodge and parsonage adjoining the church-yard; in this street is likewise the vicarage. In Brook-street, is a neat modern house, the residence of Wm. Boteler, esq. and another belonging to Mr. Thomas Rammell, who resides in it. Mention will be found hereafter, under the description of the borough of Hernden, in this parish, of the descent and arms of the Botelers resident there for many generations. Thomas Boteler, who died possessed of that estate in 1651, left three sons, the youngest of whom, Richard, was of Brook-street, and died in 1682; whose great-grandson, W. Boteler, esq. is now of Brook-street; a gentleman to whom the editor is much indebted for his communications and assistance, towards the description of this hundred, and its adjoining neighbourhood. He has been twice married; first to Sarah, daughter and coheir of Thomas Fuller, esq. of Statenborough, by whom he has one son, William Fuller, now a fellow of St. Peter's college, Cambridge: secondly, to Mary, eldest daughter of John Harvey, esq. of Sandwich and Hernden, late captain of the royal navy, by whom he has five sons and three daughters. He bears for his arms, Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or; which coat was granted to his ancestor, Richard Boteler, esq. of Hernden, by Cooke, clar. in 1589. Mr. Boteler, of Eastry, is the last surviving male of the family, both of Hernden and Brook-street. Eastry-street, comprizing the neighbourhood of the above mentioned branches, may be said to contain about sixty-four houses.
At the south-east boundary of this parish lies the hamlet of Updown, adjoining to Ham and Betshanger, in the former of which parishes some account of it has been already given. At the southern bounds, adjoining to Tilmanstone, lies the hamlet of Westone, formerly called Wendestone. On the western side lies the borough of Hernden, which although in this parish, is yet within the hundred of Downhamford and manor of Adisham; in the southern part of it is Shrinkling, or Shingleton, as it is now called, and the hamlet of Hernden. At the northern part of this borough lie the hamlets and estates of Selson, Wells, and Gore. Towards the northern boundary of the parish, in the road to Sandwich, is the hamlet of Statenborough, and at a small distance from it is that part of the borough of Felderland, or Fenderland, as it is usually called, within this parish, in which, adjoining the road which branches off to Word, is a small seat, now the property and residence of Mrs. Dare, widow of Wm. Dare, esq. who resides in it. (fn. 1)
Round the village the lands are for a little distance, and on towards Statenborough, inclosed with hedges and trees, but the rest of the parish is in general an open uninclosed country of arable land, like the neighbouring ones before described; the soil of it towards the north is most fertile, in the other parts it is rather thin, being much inclined to chalk, except in the bottoms, where it is much of a stiff clay, for this parish is a continued inequality of hill and dale; notwithstanding the above, there is a great deal of good fertile land in the parish, which meets on an average rent at fifteen shillings an acre. There is no wood in it. The parish contains about two thousand six hundred and fifty acres; the yearly rents of it are assessed to the poor at 2679l.
At the south end of the village is a large pond, called Butsole; and adjoining to it on the east side, a field, belonging to Brook-street estate, called the Butts; from whence it is conjectured that Butts were formerly erected in it, for the practice of archery among the inhabitants.
A fair is held here for cattle, pedlary, and toys, on October the 2d, (formerly on St. Matthew's day, September the 21st) yearly.
IN 1792, MR. BOTELER, of Brook-street, discovered, on digging a cellar in the garden of a cottage, situated eastward of the highway leading from Eastrycross to Butsole, an antient burying ground, used as such in the latter time of the Roman empire in Britain, most probably by the inhabitants of this parish, and the places contiguous to it. He caused several graves to be opened, and found with the skeletons, fibulæ, beads, knives,umbones of shields, &c. and in one a glass vessel. From other skeletons, which have been dug up in the gardens nearer the cross, it is imagined, that they extended on the same side the road up to the cross, the ground of which is now pretty much covered with houses; the heaps of earth, or barrows, which formerly remained over them, have long since been levelled, by the great length of time and the labour of the husbandman; the graves were very thick, in rows parallel to each other, in a direction from east to west.
St. Ivo's well, mentioned by Nierembergius, in Historia de Miraculis Natureæ, lib. ii. cap. 33; which I noticed in my folio edition as not being able to find any tradition of in this parish, I have since found was at a place that formerly went by the name of Estre, and afterwards by that of Plassiz, near St. Ives, in Huntingdonshire. See Gales Scriptores, xv. vol. i. p.p. 271, 512.
This place gave birth to Henry de Eastry, who was first a monk, and then prior of Christ-church, in Canterbury; who, for his learning as well as his worthy acts, became an ornament, not only to the society he presided over, but to his country in general. He continued prior thirty-seven years, and died, far advanced in life, in 1222.
THIS PLACE, in the time of the Saxons, appears to have been part of the royal domains, accordingly Simon of Durham, monk and precentor of that church, in his history, stiles it villa regalis, quæ vulgari dicitur Easterige pronuncione, (the royal ville, or manor, which in the vulgar pronunciation was called Easterige), which shews the antient pre-eminence and rank of this place, for these villæ regales, or regiæ, as Bede calls them, of the Saxons, were usually placed upon or near the spot, where in former ages the Roman stations had been before; and its giving name both to the lath and hundred in which it is situated corroborates the superior consequence it was then held in. Egbert, king of Kent, was in possession of it about the year 670, at which time his two cousins, Ethelred and Ethelbright, sons of his father's elder brother Ermenfrid, who had been entrusted to his care by their uncle, the father of Egbert, were, as writers say, murdered in his palace here by his order, at the persuasion of one Thunnor, a slattering courtier, lest they should disturb him in the possession of the crown. After which Thunnor buried them in the king's hall here, under the cloth of estate, from whence, as antient tradition reports, their bodies were afterwards removed to a small chapel belonging to the palace, and buried there under the altar at the east end of it, and afterwards again with much pomp to the church of Ramsey abbey. To expiate the king's guilt, according to the custom of those times, he gave to Domneva, called also Ermenburga, their sister, a sufficient quantity of land in the isle of Thanet, on which she might found a monastery.
How long it continued among the royal domains, I have not found; but before the termination of the Saxon heptarchy, THE MANOR OF EASTRY was become part of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, and it remained so till the year 811, when archbishop Wilfred exchanged it with his convent of Christchurch for their manor of Bourne, since from the archbishop's possession of it called Bishopsbourne. After which, in the year 979 king Ægelred, usually called Ethelred, increased the church's estates here, by giving to it the lands of his inheritance in Estrea, (fn. 2) free from all secular service and siscal tribute, except the repelling of invasions and the repairing of bridges and castles, usually stiled the trinoda necessitas; (fn. 3) and in the possession of the prior and convent bove-mentioned, this manor continued at the taking of the survey of Domesday, being entered in it under the general title of Terra Monachorum Archiepi; that is, the land of the monks of the archbishop, as follows:
In the lath of Estrei in Estrei hundred, the archbishop himself holds Estrei. It was taxed at Seven sulings. The arable land is . . . . In demesne there are three carucates and seventy two villeins, with twenty-two borderers, having twenty-four carucates. There is one mill and a half of thirty shillings, and three salt pits of four shillings, and eighteen acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of ten hogs.
After which, this manor continued in the possession of the priory, and in the 10th year of king Edward II. the prior obtained a grant of free-warren in all his demesne lands in it, among others; about which time it was valued at 65l. 3s. after which king Henry VI. in his 28th year, confirmed the above liberty, and granted to it a market, to be held at Eastry weekly on a Tuesday, and a fair yearly, on the day of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist; in which state it continued till the dissolution of the priory in the 31st year of king Henry VIII. when it came in to the king's hands, where it did not remain long, for he settled it, among other premises, in the 33d year of his reign, on his new created dean and chapter of Canterbury, part of whose possessions it continues at this time. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
The manerial rights, profits of courts, royalties, &c. the dean and chapter retain in their own hands; but the demesne lands of the manor, with the courtlodge, which is a large antient mansion, situated adjoining to the church-yard, have been from time to time demised on a benesicial lease. The house is large, partly antient and partly modern, having at different times undergone great alterations. In the south wall are the letters T. A. N. in flint, in large capitals, being the initials of Thomas and Anne Nevinson. Mr. Isaac Bargrave, father of the present lessee, new fronted the house, and the latter in 1786 put the whole in complete repair, in doing which, he pulled down a considerable part of the antient building, consisting of stone walls of great strength and thickness, bringing to view some gothic arched door ways of stone, which proved the house to have been of such construction formerly, and to have been a very antient building. The chapel, mentioned before, is at the east end of the house. The east window, consisting of three compartments, is still visible, though the spaces are filled up, it having for many years been converted into a kitchen, and before the last alteration by Mr. Bargrave the whole of it was entire.
At this mansion, then in the hands of the prior and convent of Christ-church, archbishop Thomas Becket, after his stight from Northampton in the year 1164, concealed himself for eight days, and then, on Nov. 10, embarked at Sandwich for France. (fn. 4)
The present lessee is Isaac Bargrave, esq. who resides at the court-lodge, whose ancestors have been lessees of this estate for many years past.
THE NEVINSONS, as lessees, resided at the courtlodge of Eastry for many years. They were originally of Brigend, in Wetherell, in Cumberland. They bore for their arms, Argent, a chevron, between three eagles displayed, azure. Many of them lie buried in Eastry church. (fn. 5)
THE FAMILY of Bargrave, alias Bargar, was originally of Bridge, and afterwards of the adjoining parish of Patrixbourne; where John Bargrave, eldest son of Robert, built the seat of Bifrons, and resided at it, of whom notice has already been taken in vol. ix. of this history, p. 280. Isaac Bargrave, the sixth son of Robert above-mentioned, and younger brother of John, who built Bifrons, was ancestor of the Bargraves, of Eastry; he was S. T. P. and dean of Canterbury, a man of strict honour and high principles of loyalty, for which he suffered the most cruel treatment. He died in 1642, having married in 1618 Elizabeth, daughter of John Dering, esq. of Egerton, by Elizabeth, sister of Edward lord Wotton, the son of John Dering, esq. of Surrenden, by Margaret Brent. Their descendant, Isaac Bargrave, esq. now living, was an eminent solicitor in London, from which he has retired for some years, and now resides at Eastry-court, of which he is the present lessee. He married Sarah, eldest daughter of George Lynch, M. D. of Canterbury, who died at Herne in 1787, S.P. They bear for their arms, Or, on a pale gules, a sword, the blade argent, pomelled, or, on a chief vert three bezants.
SHRINKLING, alias SHINGLETON, the former of which is its original name, though now quite lost, is a small manor at the south-west boundary of this pa Kent, anno 1619. rish, adjoining to Nonington. It is within the borough of Heronden, or Hardonden, as it is now called, and as such, is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. This manor had antiently owners of the same name; one of whom, Sir William de Scrinkling, held it in king Edward I.'s reign, and was succeeded by Sir Walter de Scrinkling his son, who held it by knight's service of Hamo de Crevequer, (fn. 6) and in this name it continued in the 20th year of king Edward III.
Soon after which it appears to have been alienated to William Langley, of Knolton, from which name it passed in like manner as Knolton to the Peytons and the Narboroughs, and thence by marriage to Sir Thomas D'Aeth, whose grandson Sir Narborough D'Aeth, bart. now of Knolton, is at present entitled to it.
There was a chapel belonging to this manor, the ruins of which are still visible in the wood near it, which was esteemed as a chapel of ease to the mother church of Eastry, and was appropriated with it by archbishop Richard, Becket's immediate successor, to the almory of the priory of Christ-church; but the chapel itself seems to have become desolate many years before the dissolution of the priory, most probably soon after the family of Shrinkling became extinct; the Langleys, who resided at the adjoining manor of Knolton, having no occasion for the use of it. The chapel stood in Shingleton wood, near the south east corner; the foundations of it have been traced, though level with the surface, and not easily discovered. There is now on this estate only one house, built within memory, before which there was only a solitary barn, and no remains of the antient mansion of it.
HERONDEN, alias HARDENDEN, now usually called HERONDEN, is a district in this parish, situated about a mile northward from Shingleton, within the borough of its own name, the whole of which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. It was once esteemed as a manor, though it has not had even the name of one for many years past, the manor of Adisham claiming over it. The mansion of it was antiently the residence of a family of the same name, who bore for their arms, Argent, a heron with one talon erect, gaping for breath, sable. These arms are on a shield, which is far from modern, in Maidstone church, being quarterly, Heronden as above, with sable, three escallop shells, two and one, argent; and in a window of Lincoln's Inn chapel is a coat of arms of a modern date, being that of Anthony Heronden, esq. Argent, a heron, azure, between three escallops, sable. One of this family of Heronden lies buried in this church, and in the time of Robert Glover, Somerset herald, his portrait and coat of arms, in brass, were remaining on his tombstone. The coat of arms is still extant in very old rolls and registers in the Heralds office, where the family is stiled Heronden, of Heronden, in Eastry; nor is the name less antient, as appears by deeds which commence from the reign of Henry III. which relate to this estate and name; but after this family had remained possessed of this estate for so many years it at last descended down in king Richard II.'s reign, to Sir William Heronden, from whom it passed most probably either by gift or sale, to one of the family of Boteler, or Butler, then resident in this neighbourhood, descended from those of this name, formerly seated at Butler's sleet, in Ash, whose ancestor Thomas Pincerna, or le Boteler, held that manor in king John's reign, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, alias Boteler, or as they were frequently written Botiller, and bore for their arms, One or more covered cups, differently placed and blazoned. In this family the estate descended to John Boteler, who lived in the time of king Henry VI. and resided at Sandwich, of which town he was several times mayor, and one of the burgesses in two parliaments of that reign; he lies buried in St. Peter's church there. His son Richard, who was also of Sandwich, had a grant of arms in 1470, anno 11th Edward IV. by Thomas Holme, norroy, viz. Gyronny of six, argent and sable, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counterchanged of the field, collared, gules, garnished of the third. His great-grandson Henry Boteler rebuilt the mansion of Heronden, to which he removed in 1572, being the last of his family who resided at Sandwich. He had the above grant of arms confirmed to him, and died in 1580, being buried in Eastry church. Richard Boteler, of Heronden, his eldest son by his first wife, resided at this seat, and in 1589 obtained a grant from Robert Cook, clarencieux, of a new coat of arms, viz. Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three convered cups, or. Ten years after which, intending as it should seem, to shew himself a descendant of the family of this name, seated at Graveney, but then extinct, he obtained in 1599 a grant of their arms from William Dethic, garter, and William Camden, clarencieux, to him and his brother William, viz. Quarterly, first and fourth, sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; second and third, Argent, a fess, chequy, argent and gules, in chief three cross-croslets of the last, as appears (continues the grant) on a gravestone in Graveney church. He died in 1600, and was buried in Eastry church, leaving issue among other children Jonathan and Thomas. (fn. 7) Jonathan Boteler, the eldest son, of Hernden, died unmarried possessed of it in 1626, upon which it came to his next surviving brother Thomas Boteler, of Rowling, who upon that removed to Hernden, and soon afterwards alienated that part of it, since called THE MIDDLE FARM, to Mr. Henry Pannell, from whom soon afterwards, but how I know not, it came into the family of Reynolds; from which name it was about fifty years since alienated to John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, who dying in 1762, devised it to his nephew John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, the present possessor of it.
THIS PARISH is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sandwich.
The church, which is exempted from the archdeacon, is dedicated to St. Mary; it is a large handsome building, consisting of a nave and two side isles, a chancel at the east end, remarkably long, and a square tower, which is very large, at the west end, in which are five very unmusical bells. The church is well kept and neatly paved, and exhibits a noble appearance, to which the many handsome monuments in it contribute much. The arch over the west door is circular, but no other parts of the church has any shew of great antiquity. In the chancel are monuments for the Paramors and the Fullers, of Statenborough, arms of the latter, Argent, three bars, and a canton, gules. A monument for several of the Bargrave family. An elegant pyramidial one, on which is a bust and emblematical sculpture for John Broadley, gent. many years surgeon at Dover, obt. 1784. Several gravestones, with brasses, for the Nevinsons. A gravestone for Joshua Paramour, gent. buried 1650. Underneath this chancel are two vaults, for the families of Paramour and Bargrave. In the nave, a monument for Anne, daughter of Solomon Harvey, gent. of this parish, ob. 1751; arms, Argent, on a chevron, between three lions gambs, sable, armed gules, three crescents, or; another for William Dare, esq. late of Fenderland, in this parish, obt. 1770; arms, Gules, a chevron vaire, between three crescents, argent, impaling argent, on a cross, sable, four lions passant, quardant of the field, for Read.—Against the wall an inscription in Latin, for the Drue Astley Cressemer, A. M. forty-eight years vicar of this parish, obt. 1746; he presented the communion plate to this church and Worth, and left a sum of money to be laid out in ornamenting this church, at which time the antient stalls, which were in the chancel, were taken away, and the chancel was ceiled, and the church otherwise beautified; arms, Argent, on a bend engrailed, sable, three cross-croslets, fitchee, or. A monument for several of the Botelers, of this parish; arms, Boteler, argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or, impaling Morrice. Against a pillar, a tablet and inscription, shewing that in a vault lieth Catherine, wife of John Springett, citizen and apothecary of London. He died in 1770; arms, Springett, per fess, argent and gules, a fess wavy, between three crescents, counterchanged, impaling Harvey. On the opposite pillar another, for the Rev. Richard Harvey, fourteen years vicar of this parish, obt. 1772. A monument for Richard Kelly, of Eastry, obt. 1768; arms, Two lions rampant, supporting a castle. Against the wall, an elegant sculptured monument, in alto relievo, for Sarah, wise of William Boteler, a daughter of Thomas Fuller, esq. late of Statenborough, obt. 1777, æt. 29; she died in childbed, leaving one son, William Fuller Boteler; arms at bottom, Boteler, as above, an escutcheon of pretence, Fuller, quartering Paramor. An elegant pyramidal marble and tablet for Robert Bargrave, of this parish, obt. 1779, for Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Sir Francis Leigh, of Hawley; and for Robert Bargrave, their only son, proctor in Doctors Commons, obt. 1774, whose sole surviving daughter Rebecca married James Wyborne, of Sholdon; arms, Bargrave, with a mullet, impaling Leigh. In the cross isle, near the chancel called the Boteler's isle, are several memorials for the Botelers. Adjoining to these, are three other gravestones, all of which have been inlaid, but the brasses are gone; they were for the same family, and on one of them was lately remaining the antient arms of Boteler, Girony of six pieces, &c. impaling ermine of three spots. Under the church are vaults, for the families of Springett, Harvey, Dare, and Bargrave. In the church-yard, on the north side of the church, are several altar tombs for the Paramors; and on the south side are several others for the Harveys, of this parish, and for Fawlkner, Rammell, and Fuller. There are also vaults for the families of Fuller, Rammell, and Petman.
There were formerly painted in the windows of this church, these arms, Girony of six, sable and argent, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counter changed of the field, collared, gules; for Boteler, of Heronden, impaling Boteler, of Graveny, Sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; Boteler, of Heronden, as above, quartering three spots, ermine; the coat of Theobald, with quarterings. Several of the Frynnes, or as they were afterwards called, Friends, who lived at Waltham in this parish in king Henry VII.'s reign, lie buried in this church.
In the will of William Andrewe, of this parish, anno 1507, mention is made of our Ladie chapel, in the church-yard of the church of Estrie.
The eighteen stalls which were till lately in the chancel of the church, were for the use of the monks of the priory of Christ church, owners both of the manor and appropriation, when they came to pass any time at this place, as they frequently did, as well for a country retirement as to manage their concerns here; and for any other ecclesiastics, who might be present at divine service here, all such, in those times, sitting in the chancels of churches distinct from the laity.
The church of Eastry, with the chapels of Skrinkling and Worth annexed, was antiently appendant to the manor of Eastry, and was appropriated by archbishop Richard (successor to archbishop Becket) in the reign of king Henry II. to the almonry of the priory of Christ-church, but it did not continue long so, for archbishop Baldwin, (archbishop Richard's immediate successor), having quarrelled with the monks, on account of his intended college at Hackington, took this appropriation from them, and thus it remained as a rectory, at the archbishop's disposal, till the 39th year of king Edward III.'s reign, (fn. 10) when archbishop Simon Islip, with the king's licence, restored, united and annexed it again to the priory; but it appears, that in return for this grant, the archbishop had made over to him, by way of exchange, the advowsons of the churches of St. Dunstan, St. Pancrase, and All Saints in Bread-street, in London, all three belonging to the priory. After which, that is anno 8 Richard II. 1384, this church was valued among the revenues of the almonry of Christ-church, at the yearly value of 53l. 6s. 8d. and it continued afterwards in the same state in the possession of the monks, who managed it for the use of the almonry, during which time prior William Sellyng, who came to that office in Edward IV.'s reign, among other improvements on several estates belonging to his church, built a new dormitory at this parsonage for the monks resorting hither.
On the dissolution of the priory of Christ-church, in the 31st year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, this appropriation, with the advowson of the vicarage of the church of Eastry, was surrendered into the king's hands, where it staid but a small time, for he granted it in his 33d year, by his dotation charter, to his new founded dean and chapter of Canterbury, who are the present owners of this appropriation; but the advowson of the vicarage, notwithstanding it was granted with the appropriation, to the dean and chapter as above-mentioned, appears not long afterwards to have become parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, where it continues at this time, his grace the archbishop being the present patron of it.
This parsonage is entitled to the great tithes of this parish and of Worth; there belong to it of glebe land in Eastry, Tilmanstone, and Worth, in all sixtynine acres.
THERE IS A SMALL MANOR belonging to it, called THE MANOR OF THE AMBRY, OR ALMONRY OF CHRIST-CHURCH, the quit-rents of which are very inconsiderable.
The parsonage-house is large and antient; in the old parlour window is a shield of arms, being those of Partheriche, impaling quarterly Line and Hamerton. The parsonage is of the annual rent of about 700l. The countess dowager of Guildford became entitled to the lease of this parsonage, by the will of her husband the earl of Guildford, and since her death the interest of it is become vested in her younger children.
As to the origin of a vicarage in this church, though there was one endowed in it by archbishop Peckham, in the 20th year of king Edward I. anno 1291, whilst this church continued in the archbishop's hands, yet I do not find that there was a vicar instituted in it, but that it remained as a rectory, till near three years after it had been restored to the priory of Christchurch, when, in the 42d year of king Edward III. a vicar was instituted in it, between whom and the prior and chapter of Canterbury, there was a composition concerning his portion, which he should have as an endowment of this vicarage; which composition was confirmed by archbishop Simon Langham that year; and next year there was an agreement entered into between the eleemosinary of Christ-church and the vicar, concerning the manse of this vicarage.
The vicarage of Eastry, with the chapel of Worth annexed, is valued in the king's books at 19l. 12s. 1d. and the yearly tenths at 1l. 19s. 2½d. In 1588 it was valued at sixty pounds. Communicants three hundred and thirty-five. In 1640 here were the like number of communicants, and it was valued at one hundred pounds.
The antient pension of 5l. 6s. 8d. formerly paid by the priory, is still paid to the vicar by the dean and chapter, and also an augmentation of 14l. 13s. 4d. yearly, by the lessee of the parsonage, by a convenant in his lease.
The vicarage-house is built close to the farm-yard of the parsonage; the land allotted to it is very trifling, not even sufficient for a tolerable garden; the foundations of the house are antient, and probably part of the original building when the vicarage was endowed in 1367.
¶There were two awards made in 1549 and 1550, on a controversy between the vicar of Eastry and the mayor, &c. of Sandwich, whether the scite of St. Bartholomew's hospital, near Sandwich, within that port and liberty, was subject to the payment of tithes to the vicar, as being within his parish. Both awards adjudged the legality of a payment, as due to the vicar; but the former award adjudged that the scite of the hospital was not, and the latter, that it was within the bounds of this parish. (fn. 12)
The Watcher in the woods
Pursuing the Posh
A Cat Burglar Saga
From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.
C.B. Case Study 13 , File B
Subset Source: Journal
Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?
ORIGINATION STORY:
flic.kr/p/BcnW2J
Synopsis:
The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.
I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.
The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.
Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.
So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?
Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.
So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.
There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.
The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.
She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!
But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.
But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.
She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.
I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!
***** Two productive evenings later ****************
It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.
I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).
But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.
The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.
This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.
With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.
Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.
And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…
The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!
I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.
Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.
Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.
It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.
I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.
I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!
A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.
Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.
I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.
Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.
The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.
Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!
Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.
I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.
It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.
Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.
They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!
They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.
Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.
Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).
But beady eyes says nothing..
He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.
It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.
I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.
I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.
I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.
I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.
In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.
I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.
I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.
I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.
I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.
But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.
I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.
As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.
This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.
A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….
I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.
So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……
But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.
I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.
One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.
Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!
And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.
************************************
Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans
Roughly translated:
If you want to make God laugh, Make plans
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
The Watcher in the woods
Pursuing the Posh
A Cat Burglar Saga
From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.
C.B. Case Study 13 , File B
Subset Source: Journal
Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?
ORIGINATION STORY:
flic.kr/p/BcnW2J
Synopsis:
The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.
I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.
The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.
Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.
So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?
Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.
So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.
There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.
The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.
She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!
But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.
But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.
She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.
I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!
***** Two productive evenings later ****************
It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.
I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).
But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.
The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.
This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.
With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.
Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.
And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…
The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!
I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.
Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.
Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.
It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.
I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.
I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!
A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.
Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.
I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.
Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.
The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.
Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!
Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.
I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.
It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.
Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.
They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!
They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.
Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.
Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).
But beady eyes says nothing..
He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.
It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.
I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.
I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.
I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.
I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.
In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.
I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.
I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.
I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.
I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.
But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.
I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.
As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.
This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.
A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….
I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.
So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……
But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.
I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.
One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.
Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!
And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.
************************************
Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans
Roughly translated:
If you want to make God laugh, Make plans
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
And so to the weekend again. And what might be the last orchid-free weekend until well into June or even August.
So, enjoy the churches while you can.
Saturday, and not much really planned. We get up at half six with it fully light outside. The cloud and drizzle had not arrived, instead it was pretty clear and sunny.
No time for thinking about going out to take shots, as we had hunter-gathering to do.
In fact, we didn't need much, just the usual stuff to keep us going. That and the car was running on fumes. So we will that up first, and then into Tesco and round and round we go, fully the trolley up. It being Mother's Day on Saturday, we were having Jen round on Sunday, we were to have steak, so I get mushrooms.
And once back, we have breakfast then go to Preston for the actual steak, three ribeyes, all cut from the same stip. Jools had gone to look at the garden centre for ideas as we're going to dig up the raspberries, so just wondering what to put in their place.
By then the rain had come, and so we dashed back to the car, and on the way home called in at two churches.
First off was Goodnestone, just the other side of Wingham.
Its a fine estate church, covered in wonderfully knapped bricks, giving it an East Anglian feel. Before we went in, we sheltered under a tree to much on a sausage roll I had bought at the butcher, that done, we go to the church, which is open.
I have been here quite recently, five years back, and in truth no much glass to record, but I do my best, leave a fiver of the weekly collection and we drove over the fields to Eastry.
St Mary is an impressive church, with carved and decorated west face of the Norman tower, at its base an odd lean-to porch has been created, leading into the church, which does have interest other than the 35 painted medallions high in the Chancel Arch, once the backdrop to the Rood.
I snap them with the big lens, and the windows too. A warden points out what looks like a very much older painted window high among the roof timbers in the east wall of the Chancel.
I get a shot, which is good enough, but even with a 400mm lens, is some crop.
I finish up and we go home, taking it carefully along nearly flooded roads.
Being a Saturday, there is football, though nothing much of interest until three when Norwich kick off against Stoke: could they kick it on a wet Saturday afternoon in the Potteries?
No. No, they couldn't.
Ended 0-0, City second best, barely laid a glove on the Stoke goal.
And then spots galore: Ireland v England in the egg-chasing, Citeh v Burnley in the Cup and Chelsea v Everton in the league, all live on various TV channels.
I watch the first half of the rugby, then switch over when England were reduced to 14, so did enjoy the lad Haarland score another hat-trick in a 6-0 demolition.
And that was that, another day over with.....
---------------------------------------------
Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
------------------------------------------
Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
----------------------------------------------------
EASTRY,
THE next parish north-eastward from Knolton is Eastry. At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, it was of such considerable account, that it not only gave name, as it does at present, to the hundred, but to the greatest part of the lath in which it stands, now called the lath of St. Augustine. There are two boroughs in this parish, viz. the borough of Hardenden, which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford, and comprehends the districts of Hardenden, Selson and Skrinkling, and the borough of Eastry, the borsholder of which is chosen at Eastry-court, and comprehends all the rest of the parish, excepting so much of it as lies within that part of the borough of Felderland, which is within this parish.
THE PARISH OF EASTRY, a healthy and not unpleasant situation, is about two miles and an half from north to south, but it is much narrower the other way, at the broadest extent of which it is not more than a mile and an half. The village of Eastry is situated on a pleasing eminence, almost in the centre of the parish, exhiblting a picturesque appearance from many points of view. The principal street in it is called Eastrystreet; from it branch off Mill street, Church-street and Brook-street. In Mill street is a spacious handsome edisice lately erected there, as a house of industry, for the poor of the several united parishes of Eastry, Norborne, Betshanger, Tilmanstone, Waldershare, Coldred, Lydden, Shebbertswell, Swynfield, Wootton, Denton, Chillenden and Knolton. In Churchstreet, on the east side, stands the church, with the court-lodge and parsonage adjoining the church-yard; in this street is likewise the vicarage. In Brook-street, is a neat modern house, the residence of Wm. Boteler, esq. and another belonging to Mr. Thomas Rammell, who resides in it. Mention will be found hereafter, under the description of the borough of Hernden, in this parish, of the descent and arms of the Botelers resident there for many generations. Thomas Boteler, who died possessed of that estate in 1651, left three sons, the youngest of whom, Richard, was of Brook-street, and died in 1682; whose great-grandson, W. Boteler, esq. is now of Brook-street; a gentleman to whom the editor is much indebted for his communications and assistance, towards the description of this hundred, and its adjoining neighbourhood. He has been twice married; first to Sarah, daughter and coheir of Thomas Fuller, esq. of Statenborough, by whom he has one son, William Fuller, now a fellow of St. Peter's college, Cambridge: secondly, to Mary, eldest daughter of John Harvey, esq. of Sandwich and Hernden, late captain of the royal navy, by whom he has five sons and three daughters. He bears for his arms, Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or; which coat was granted to his ancestor, Richard Boteler, esq. of Hernden, by Cooke, clar. in 1589. Mr. Boteler, of Eastry, is the last surviving male of the family, both of Hernden and Brook-street. Eastry-street, comprizing the neighbourhood of the above mentioned branches, may be said to contain about sixty-four houses.
At the south-east boundary of this parish lies the hamlet of Updown, adjoining to Ham and Betshanger, in the former of which parishes some account of it has been already given. At the southern bounds, adjoining to Tilmanstone, lies the hamlet of Westone, formerly called Wendestone. On the western side lies the borough of Hernden, which although in this parish, is yet within the hundred of Downhamford and manor of Adisham; in the southern part of it is Shrinkling, or Shingleton, as it is now called, and the hamlet of Hernden. At the northern part of this borough lie the hamlets and estates of Selson, Wells, and Gore. Towards the northern boundary of the parish, in the road to Sandwich, is the hamlet of Statenborough, and at a small distance from it is that part of the borough of Felderland, or Fenderland, as it is usually called, within this parish, in which, adjoining the road which branches off to Word, is a small seat, now the property and residence of Mrs. Dare, widow of Wm. Dare, esq. who resides in it. (fn. 1)
Round the village the lands are for a little distance, and on towards Statenborough, inclosed with hedges and trees, but the rest of the parish is in general an open uninclosed country of arable land, like the neighbouring ones before described; the soil of it towards the north is most fertile, in the other parts it is rather thin, being much inclined to chalk, except in the bottoms, where it is much of a stiff clay, for this parish is a continued inequality of hill and dale; notwithstanding the above, there is a great deal of good fertile land in the parish, which meets on an average rent at fifteen shillings an acre. There is no wood in it. The parish contains about two thousand six hundred and fifty acres; the yearly rents of it are assessed to the poor at 2679l.
At the south end of the village is a large pond, called Butsole; and adjoining to it on the east side, a field, belonging to Brook-street estate, called the Butts; from whence it is conjectured that Butts were formerly erected in it, for the practice of archery among the inhabitants.
A fair is held here for cattle, pedlary, and toys, on October the 2d, (formerly on St. Matthew's day, September the 21st) yearly.
IN 1792, MR. BOTELER, of Brook-street, discovered, on digging a cellar in the garden of a cottage, situated eastward of the highway leading from Eastrycross to Butsole, an antient burying ground, used as such in the latter time of the Roman empire in Britain, most probably by the inhabitants of this parish, and the places contiguous to it. He caused several graves to be opened, and found with the skeletons, fibulæ, beads, knives,umbones of shields, &c. and in one a glass vessel. From other skeletons, which have been dug up in the gardens nearer the cross, it is imagined, that they extended on the same side the road up to the cross, the ground of which is now pretty much covered with houses; the heaps of earth, or barrows, which formerly remained over them, have long since been levelled, by the great length of time and the labour of the husbandman; the graves were very thick, in rows parallel to each other, in a direction from east to west.
St. Ivo's well, mentioned by Nierembergius, in Historia de Miraculis Natureæ, lib. ii. cap. 33; which I noticed in my folio edition as not being able to find any tradition of in this parish, I have since found was at a place that formerly went by the name of Estre, and afterwards by that of Plassiz, near St. Ives, in Huntingdonshire. See Gales Scriptores, xv. vol. i. p.p. 271, 512.
This place gave birth to Henry de Eastry, who was first a monk, and then prior of Christ-church, in Canterbury; who, for his learning as well as his worthy acts, became an ornament, not only to the society he presided over, but to his country in general. He continued prior thirty-seven years, and died, far advanced in life, in 1222.
THIS PLACE, in the time of the Saxons, appears to have been part of the royal domains, accordingly Simon of Durham, monk and precentor of that church, in his history, stiles it villa regalis, quæ vulgari dicitur Easterige pronuncione, (the royal ville, or manor, which in the vulgar pronunciation was called Easterige), which shews the antient pre-eminence and rank of this place, for these villæ regales, or regiæ, as Bede calls them, of the Saxons, were usually placed upon or near the spot, where in former ages the Roman stations had been before; and its giving name both to the lath and hundred in which it is situated corroborates the superior consequence it was then held in. Egbert, king of Kent, was in possession of it about the year 670, at which time his two cousins, Ethelred and Ethelbright, sons of his father's elder brother Ermenfrid, who had been entrusted to his care by their uncle, the father of Egbert, were, as writers say, murdered in his palace here by his order, at the persuasion of one Thunnor, a slattering courtier, lest they should disturb him in the possession of the crown. After which Thunnor buried them in the king's hall here, under the cloth of estate, from whence, as antient tradition reports, their bodies were afterwards removed to a small chapel belonging to the palace, and buried there under the altar at the east end of it, and afterwards again with much pomp to the church of Ramsey abbey. To expiate the king's guilt, according to the custom of those times, he gave to Domneva, called also Ermenburga, their sister, a sufficient quantity of land in the isle of Thanet, on which she might found a monastery.
How long it continued among the royal domains, I have not found; but before the termination of the Saxon heptarchy, THE MANOR OF EASTRY was become part of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, and it remained so till the year 811, when archbishop Wilfred exchanged it with his convent of Christchurch for their manor of Bourne, since from the archbishop's possession of it called Bishopsbourne. After which, in the year 979 king Ægelred, usually called Ethelred, increased the church's estates here, by giving to it the lands of his inheritance in Estrea, (fn. 2) free from all secular service and siscal tribute, except the repelling of invasions and the repairing of bridges and castles, usually stiled the trinoda necessitas; (fn. 3) and in the possession of the prior and convent bove-mentioned, this manor continued at the taking of the survey of Domesday, being entered in it under the general title of Terra Monachorum Archiepi; that is, the land of the monks of the archbishop, as follows:
In the lath of Estrei in Estrei hundred, the archbishop himself holds Estrei. It was taxed at Seven sulings. The arable land is . . . . In demesne there are three carucates and seventy two villeins, with twenty-two borderers, having twenty-four carucates. There is one mill and a half of thirty shillings, and three salt pits of four shillings, and eighteen acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of ten hogs.
After which, this manor continued in the possession of the priory, and in the 10th year of king Edward II. the prior obtained a grant of free-warren in all his demesne lands in it, among others; about which time it was valued at 65l. 3s. after which king Henry VI. in his 28th year, confirmed the above liberty, and granted to it a market, to be held at Eastry weekly on a Tuesday, and a fair yearly, on the day of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist; in which state it continued till the dissolution of the priory in the 31st year of king Henry VIII. when it came in to the king's hands, where it did not remain long, for he settled it, among other premises, in the 33d year of his reign, on his new created dean and chapter of Canterbury, part of whose possessions it continues at this time. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
The manerial rights, profits of courts, royalties, &c. the dean and chapter retain in their own hands; but the demesne lands of the manor, with the courtlodge, which is a large antient mansion, situated adjoining to the church-yard, have been from time to time demised on a benesicial lease. The house is large, partly antient and partly modern, having at different times undergone great alterations. In the south wall are the letters T. A. N. in flint, in large capitals, being the initials of Thomas and Anne Nevinson. Mr. Isaac Bargrave, father of the present lessee, new fronted the house, and the latter in 1786 put the whole in complete repair, in doing which, he pulled down a considerable part of the antient building, consisting of stone walls of great strength and thickness, bringing to view some gothic arched door ways of stone, which proved the house to have been of such construction formerly, and to have been a very antient building. The chapel, mentioned before, is at the east end of the house. The east window, consisting of three compartments, is still visible, though the spaces are filled up, it having for many years been converted into a kitchen, and before the last alteration by Mr. Bargrave the whole of it was entire.
At this mansion, then in the hands of the prior and convent of Christ-church, archbishop Thomas Becket, after his stight from Northampton in the year 1164, concealed himself for eight days, and then, on Nov. 10, embarked at Sandwich for France. (fn. 4)
The present lessee is Isaac Bargrave, esq. who resides at the court-lodge, whose ancestors have been lessees of this estate for many years past.
THE NEVINSONS, as lessees, resided at the courtlodge of Eastry for many years. They were originally of Brigend, in Wetherell, in Cumberland. They bore for their arms, Argent, a chevron, between three eagles displayed, azure. Many of them lie buried in Eastry church. (fn. 5)
THE FAMILY of Bargrave, alias Bargar, was originally of Bridge, and afterwards of the adjoining parish of Patrixbourne; where John Bargrave, eldest son of Robert, built the seat of Bifrons, and resided at it, of whom notice has already been taken in vol. ix. of this history, p. 280. Isaac Bargrave, the sixth son of Robert above-mentioned, and younger brother of John, who built Bifrons, was ancestor of the Bargraves, of Eastry; he was S. T. P. and dean of Canterbury, a man of strict honour and high principles of loyalty, for which he suffered the most cruel treatment. He died in 1642, having married in 1618 Elizabeth, daughter of John Dering, esq. of Egerton, by Elizabeth, sister of Edward lord Wotton, the son of John Dering, esq. of Surrenden, by Margaret Brent. Their descendant, Isaac Bargrave, esq. now living, was an eminent solicitor in London, from which he has retired for some years, and now resides at Eastry-court, of which he is the present lessee. He married Sarah, eldest daughter of George Lynch, M. D. of Canterbury, who died at Herne in 1787, S.P. They bear for their arms, Or, on a pale gules, a sword, the blade argent, pomelled, or, on a chief vert three bezants.
SHRINKLING, alias SHINGLETON, the former of which is its original name, though now quite lost, is a small manor at the south-west boundary of this pa Kent, anno 1619. rish, adjoining to Nonington. It is within the borough of Heronden, or Hardonden, as it is now called, and as such, is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. This manor had antiently owners of the same name; one of whom, Sir William de Scrinkling, held it in king Edward I.'s reign, and was succeeded by Sir Walter de Scrinkling his son, who held it by knight's service of Hamo de Crevequer, (fn. 6) and in this name it continued in the 20th year of king Edward III.
Soon after which it appears to have been alienated to William Langley, of Knolton, from which name it passed in like manner as Knolton to the Peytons and the Narboroughs, and thence by marriage to Sir Thomas D'Aeth, whose grandson Sir Narborough D'Aeth, bart. now of Knolton, is at present entitled to it.
There was a chapel belonging to this manor, the ruins of which are still visible in the wood near it, which was esteemed as a chapel of ease to the mother church of Eastry, and was appropriated with it by archbishop Richard, Becket's immediate successor, to the almory of the priory of Christ-church; but the chapel itself seems to have become desolate many years before the dissolution of the priory, most probably soon after the family of Shrinkling became extinct; the Langleys, who resided at the adjoining manor of Knolton, having no occasion for the use of it. The chapel stood in Shingleton wood, near the south east corner; the foundations of it have been traced, though level with the surface, and not easily discovered. There is now on this estate only one house, built within memory, before which there was only a solitary barn, and no remains of the antient mansion of it.
HERONDEN, alias HARDENDEN, now usually called HERONDEN, is a district in this parish, situated about a mile northward from Shingleton, within the borough of its own name, the whole of which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. It was once esteemed as a manor, though it has not had even the name of one for many years past, the manor of Adisham claiming over it. The mansion of it was antiently the residence of a family of the same name, who bore for their arms, Argent, a heron with one talon erect, gaping for breath, sable. These arms are on a shield, which is far from modern, in Maidstone church, being quarterly, Heronden as above, with sable, three escallop shells, two and one, argent; and in a window of Lincoln's Inn chapel is a coat of arms of a modern date, being that of Anthony Heronden, esq. Argent, a heron, azure, between three escallops, sable. One of this family of Heronden lies buried in this church, and in the time of Robert Glover, Somerset herald, his portrait and coat of arms, in brass, were remaining on his tombstone. The coat of arms is still extant in very old rolls and registers in the Heralds office, where the family is stiled Heronden, of Heronden, in Eastry; nor is the name less antient, as appears by deeds which commence from the reign of Henry III. which relate to this estate and name; but after this family had remained possessed of this estate for so many years it at last descended down in king Richard II.'s reign, to Sir William Heronden, from whom it passed most probably either by gift or sale, to one of the family of Boteler, or Butler, then resident in this neighbourhood, descended from those of this name, formerly seated at Butler's sleet, in Ash, whose ancestor Thomas Pincerna, or le Boteler, held that manor in king John's reign, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, alias Boteler, or as they were frequently written Botiller, and bore for their arms, One or more covered cups, differently placed and blazoned. In this family the estate descended to John Boteler, who lived in the time of king Henry VI. and resided at Sandwich, of which town he was several times mayor, and one of the burgesses in two parliaments of that reign; he lies buried in St. Peter's church there. His son Richard, who was also of Sandwich, had a grant of arms in 1470, anno 11th Edward IV. by Thomas Holme, norroy, viz. Gyronny of six, argent and sable, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counterchanged of the field, collared, gules, garnished of the third. His great-grandson Henry Boteler rebuilt the mansion of Heronden, to which he removed in 1572, being the last of his family who resided at Sandwich. He had the above grant of arms confirmed to him, and died in 1580, being buried in Eastry church. Richard Boteler, of Heronden, his eldest son by his first wife, resided at this seat, and in 1589 obtained a grant from Robert Cook, clarencieux, of a new coat of arms, viz. Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three convered cups, or. Ten years after which, intending as it should seem, to shew himself a descendant of the family of this name, seated at Graveney, but then extinct, he obtained in 1599 a grant of their arms from William Dethic, garter, and William Camden, clarencieux, to him and his brother William, viz. Quarterly, first and fourth, sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; second and third, Argent, a fess, chequy, argent and gules, in chief three cross-croslets of the last, as appears (continues the grant) on a gravestone in Graveney church. He died in 1600, and was buried in Eastry church, leaving issue among other children Jonathan and Thomas. (fn. 7) Jonathan Boteler, the eldest son, of Hernden, died unmarried possessed of it in 1626, upon which it came to his next surviving brother Thomas Boteler, of Rowling, who upon that removed to Hernden, and soon afterwards alienated that part of it, since called THE MIDDLE FARM, to Mr. Henry Pannell, from whom soon afterwards, but how I know not, it came into the family of Reynolds; from which name it was about fifty years since alienated to John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, who dying in 1762, devised it to his nephew John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, the present possessor of it.
THIS PARISH is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sandwich.
The church, which is exempted from the archdeacon, is dedicated to St. Mary; it is a large handsome building, consisting of a nave and two side isles, a chancel at the east end, remarkably long, and a square tower, which is very large, at the west end, in which are five very unmusical bells. The church is well kept and neatly paved, and exhibits a noble appearance, to which the many handsome monuments in it contribute much. The arch over the west door is circular, but no other parts of the church has any shew of great antiquity. In the chancel are monuments for the Paramors and the Fullers, of Statenborough, arms of the latter, Argent, three bars, and a canton, gules. A monument for several of the Bargrave family. An elegant pyramidial one, on which is a bust and emblematical sculpture for John Broadley, gent. many years surgeon at Dover, obt. 1784. Several gravestones, with brasses, for the Nevinsons. A gravestone for Joshua Paramour, gent. buried 1650. Underneath this chancel are two vaults, for the families of Paramour and Bargrave. In the nave, a monument for Anne, daughter of Solomon Harvey, gent. of this parish, ob. 1751; arms, Argent, on a chevron, between three lions gambs, sable, armed gules, three crescents, or; another for William Dare, esq. late of Fenderland, in this parish, obt. 1770; arms, Gules, a chevron vaire, between three crescents, argent, impaling argent, on a cross, sable, four lions passant, quardant of the field, for Read.—Against the wall an inscription in Latin, for the Drue Astley Cressemer, A. M. forty-eight years vicar of this parish, obt. 1746; he presented the communion plate to this church and Worth, and left a sum of money to be laid out in ornamenting this church, at which time the antient stalls, which were in the chancel, were taken away, and the chancel was ceiled, and the church otherwise beautified; arms, Argent, on a bend engrailed, sable, three cross-croslets, fitchee, or. A monument for several of the Botelers, of this parish; arms, Boteler, argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or, impaling Morrice. Against a pillar, a tablet and inscription, shewing that in a vault lieth Catherine, wife of John Springett, citizen and apothecary of London. He died in 1770; arms, Springett, per fess, argent and gules, a fess wavy, between three crescents, counterchanged, impaling Harvey. On the opposite pillar another, for the Rev. Richard Harvey, fourteen years vicar of this parish, obt. 1772. A monument for Richard Kelly, of Eastry, obt. 1768; arms, Two lions rampant, supporting a castle. Against the wall, an elegant sculptured monument, in alto relievo, for Sarah, wise of William Boteler, a daughter of Thomas Fuller, esq. late of Statenborough, obt. 1777, æt. 29; she died in childbed, leaving one son, William Fuller Boteler; arms at bottom, Boteler, as above, an escutcheon of pretence, Fuller, quartering Paramor. An elegant pyramidal marble and tablet for Robert Bargrave, of this parish, obt. 1779, for Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Sir Francis Leigh, of Hawley; and for Robert Bargrave, their only son, proctor in Doctors Commons, obt. 1774, whose sole surviving daughter Rebecca married James Wyborne, of Sholdon; arms, Bargrave, with a mullet, impaling Leigh. In the cross isle, near the chancel called the Boteler's isle, are several memorials for the Botelers. Adjoining to these, are three other gravestones, all of which have been inlaid, but the brasses are gone; they were for the same family, and on one of them was lately remaining the antient arms of Boteler, Girony of six pieces, &c. impaling ermine of three spots. Under the church are vaults, for the families of Springett, Harvey, Dare, and Bargrave. In the church-yard, on the north side of the church, are several altar tombs for the Paramors; and on the south side are several others for the Harveys, of this parish, and for Fawlkner, Rammell, and Fuller. There are also vaults for the families of Fuller, Rammell, and Petman.
There were formerly painted in the windows of this church, these arms, Girony of six, sable and argent, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counter changed of the field, collared, gules; for Boteler, of Heronden, impaling Boteler, of Graveny, Sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; Boteler, of Heronden, as above, quartering three spots, ermine; the coat of Theobald, with quarterings. Several of the Frynnes, or as they were afterwards called, Friends, who lived at Waltham in this parish in king Henry VII.'s reign, lie buried in this church.
In the will of William Andrewe, of this parish, anno 1507, mention is made of our Ladie chapel, in the church-yard of the church of Estrie.
The eighteen stalls which were till lately in the chancel of the church, were for the use of the monks of the priory of Christ church, owners both of the manor and appropriation, when they came to pass any time at this place, as they frequently did, as well for a country retirement as to manage their concerns here; and for any other ecclesiastics, who might be present at divine service here, all such, in those times, sitting in the chancels of churches distinct from the laity.
The church of Eastry, with the chapels of Skrinkling and Worth annexed, was antiently appendant to the manor of Eastry, and was appropriated by archbishop Richard (successor to archbishop Becket) in the reign of king Henry II. to the almonry of the priory of Christ-church, but it did not continue long so, for archbishop Baldwin, (archbishop Richard's immediate successor), having quarrelled with the monks, on account of his intended college at Hackington, took this appropriation from them, and thus it remained as a rectory, at the archbishop's disposal, till the 39th year of king Edward III.'s reign, (fn. 10) when archbishop Simon Islip, with the king's licence, restored, united and annexed it again to the priory; but it appears, that in return for this grant, the archbishop had made over to him, by way of exchange, the advowsons of the churches of St. Dunstan, St. Pancrase, and All Saints in Bread-street, in London, all three belonging to the priory. After which, that is anno 8 Richard II. 1384, this church was valued among the revenues of the almonry of Christ-church, at the yearly value of 53l. 6s. 8d. and it continued afterwards in the same state in the possession of the monks, who managed it for the use of the almonry, during which time prior William Sellyng, who came to that office in Edward IV.'s reign, among other improvements on several estates belonging to his church, built a new dormitory at this parsonage for the monks resorting hither.
On the dissolution of the priory of Christ-church, in the 31st year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, this appropriation, with the advowson of the vicarage of the church of Eastry, was surrendered into the king's hands, where it staid but a small time, for he granted it in his 33d year, by his dotation charter, to his new founded dean and chapter of Canterbury, who are the present owners of this appropriation; but the advowson of the vicarage, notwithstanding it was granted with the appropriation, to the dean and chapter as above-mentioned, appears not long afterwards to have become parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, where it continues at this time, his grace the archbishop being the present patron of it.
This parsonage is entitled to the great tithes of this parish and of Worth; there belong to it of glebe land in Eastry, Tilmanstone, and Worth, in all sixtynine acres.
THERE IS A SMALL MANOR belonging to it, called THE MANOR OF THE AMBRY, OR ALMONRY OF CHRIST-CHURCH, the quit-rents of which are very inconsiderable.
The parsonage-house is large and antient; in the old parlour window is a shield of arms, being those of Partheriche, impaling quarterly Line and Hamerton. The parsonage is of the annual rent of about 700l. The countess dowager of Guildford became entitled to the lease of this parsonage, by the will of her husband the earl of Guildford, and since her death the interest of it is become vested in her younger children.
As to the origin of a vicarage in this church, though there was one endowed in it by archbishop Peckham, in the 20th year of king Edward I. anno 1291, whilst this church continued in the archbishop's hands, yet I do not find that there was a vicar instituted in it, but that it remained as a rectory, till near three years after it had been restored to the priory of Christchurch, when, in the 42d year of king Edward III. a vicar was instituted in it, between whom and the prior and chapter of Canterbury, there was a composition concerning his portion, which he should have as an endowment of this vicarage; which composition was confirmed by archbishop Simon Langham that year; and next year there was an agreement entered into between the eleemosinary of Christ-church and the vicar, concerning the manse of this vicarage.
The vicarage of Eastry, with the chapel of Worth annexed, is valued in the king's books at 19l. 12s. 1d. and the yearly tenths at 1l. 19s. 2½d. In 1588 it was valued at sixty pounds. Communicants three hundred and thirty-five. In 1640 here were the like number of communicants, and it was valued at one hundred pounds.
The antient pension of 5l. 6s. 8d. formerly paid by the priory, is still paid to the vicar by the dean and chapter, and also an augmentation of 14l. 13s. 4d. yearly, by the lessee of the parsonage, by a convenant in his lease.
The vicarage-house is built close to the farm-yard of the parsonage; the land allotted to it is very trifling, not even sufficient for a tolerable garden; the foundations of the house are antient, and probably part of the original building when the vicarage was endowed in 1367.
¶There were two awards made in 1549 and 1550, on a controversy between the vicar of Eastry and the mayor, &c. of Sandwich, whether the scite of St. Bartholomew's hospital, near Sandwich, within that port and liberty, was subject to the payment of tithes to the vicar, as being within his parish. Both awards adjudged the legality of a payment, as due to the vicar; but the former award adjudged that the scite of the hospital was not, and the latter, that it was within the bounds of this parish. (fn. 12)
Head - Lelutka Briannon
Body - Inithium Kupra
Hair - Doux Silent Hairstyle
Eyes color - Lotus Aries Eyes 17 rare
Glasses - Triggered Paramour glasses
Septum piercing - +AH+ Devil's Heart septum
Dress - CandyDoll Evelyne Dress Blueflor
Necklace - Kibitz Marcia necklace
Chocker - Cynful diamond choker
Nails - Leronso mesh stiletto nails phosphoric
Rings - *Bonita* Queen bento rings
Bracelet -7;] Prad Airpro Bracelet
Ears earings - Promagic Mai earing
Want to have me photograph and edit your pictures or just edit them?
Add me on secondlife and IM me or discord ( Kitty♡#6642) and will tell you about my prices.
Venus was nothing compared to the girl. Her clothes trailed alluringly across the floor; her satin evening gown with the magnificent broach, her long shiny gloves, gorgeous Sable Fur all were laid out in seductive, overlying curls as she had slinked through the room, leaving behind her the telling path of unmistakably rich prey. The beginning of which held a feast for the tracking predator who knew how to read the signs.
*************************************************
The study below was derived from facts uncovered while doing research for the following Doctoral dissertation:
Light to the shadows of their mind:
Criminal tactics and strategies
Criminology Department .
Chatwick University
**************************
If there was ever one thing I savored the most about my chosen profession I would have to say it was the lavish receptions, balls and other posh settings where the frills of the filthy rich could be both admired and enjoyed. There was just something about the voluptuous ladies who haunted these venues, dressed up to the silky nines and sporting flashy ornaments, which I found so very mesmerizing.
Take the young lady in whose spell I was currently basking. She was wearing a slinky long satin number that appeared to have been poured along her enticing figure. A diamond brooch sparkled from just below her perky breasts. Her opulent gemstone jewels, surrounded by sparkling diamonds, shone like cat eyes when caught by the lights. I studied her the way one would appraise a painting by an old master, closely examining everything I could that pertained to her. If this work of art went by a name, I would title it: Eileen, a study in opulence.
I could also see that I wasn’t the only one who was paying Eileen attention. The man she was seeing appeared, as usual to be caught up in the ladies enchantment this evening. I had seen the couple together several times, but tonight he seemed to be especially attentive to her. There was definitely electricity in the air between them. Which was good, for tonight would be the night to pounce, paying the witchy young lady and her jewels a long anticipated nocturnal visit in the wee hours of the morning.
I had heard about Eileen through a paid source close by in Sutton. She had been an orphan at a young age and brought up properly by a war-widowed grandmother. The Grandmother had been wealthy, and when she passed on she had left 22 year old Eileen with a small fortune. Along with the Grandmothers wealth, Eileen inherited from the old lady three major facets, a spoiled naivety, a gullible ego, and a massive jewelry collection. Which all together presented a very enticing combination for someone like me.
Eileen wore her grandmother’s jewels with reckless abandonment, so I was told, and that is what made her stand out to those who sell information to people like me. Like a hungry predator, I shadowed Eileen for an entire month as she bounced from night club to private club, from extravagant balls, to ultra-fancy ritzy dances. I got to see her and her collection of jewels in close proximity, and it was love at every sighting. I even stole a dance away from her escort, when he was away making one of his frequent business calls. She was wearing a puffy gown of rich taffeta, with silvery diamonds that flashed as they cascaded down from her ears throat. It was a slow dance and I was able to tune out her constant babbling and concentrate on appraising her jewels. After the dance I kissed her gloved hand with its heavily ringed fingers, and bid au revoir, before quickly getting lost in the crowd before her lover returned.
The whole time I closely watched over Eileen and her latest Beau, a charming man named Claude who spoke with a heavy French accent. I quickly learned everything I could about the pair’s background, their relationship, their friends, their habits. Several times I had left them alone while when they were safely partying out on the town, and did a trail run by the ladies residence. This was a secluded small stone mini-mansion, located deep in the woods on the far outskirts of town that had been her Grandmothers weekend retreat. I had plenty of time to study, so that by the time the evening arrived when I would make my move, I had it all plotted out, taking into consideration every angle. I was ready, and actually had been so for over a week prior to this evening.
I followed the happy couple home that evening, and waited while they got down to business. I was calm, my nerves knew no anxiety. I spirited away back to my car and changed into my proper “ business” attire ( black clothes, gloves and mask). I had witnessed Eileen and Claude putting on the same show for several late evenings, and I knew just when to strike. And, then, strike I did.
Like a shadow I moved, becoming part of the background. Reaching the house I stole in through a basement window which I had loosened the week before. I cautiously moved inside, using my torch only sparingly. I made my way up through the basement to the first level, pausing only for a few precious seconds to observe the pricy landscapes that hung from the walls, but I did not touch, for that was not my game.
I crept up the stairs to the sitting room of the master bedroom, Eileen’s grandmother’s old room. It stood as a shrine to the old lady, right down to her old white cat lying on the primly made bed. The cat watched me untrustingly before hissing and running off into some dark corner. I went over and pulled back a self-portrait of the old lady, behind which was a small wall safe. It’s amazing how easy these things are to spot. The tumblers satisfactorily whirled and clicked home, allowing me to open silently and peek into its small chamber. A number of jewel cases of various shapes and makes were exposed to my torch. Quickly I emptied them, watching as jewel after jewel slithered brightly into my satchel. I replaced each case, and after the last was disposed of its contents, I closed it back up and made my way to the fair Eileen’s boudoir.
Venus was nothing compared to the viixen Eileen. Her clothes laid an alluring path across the sitting room floor; her satin evening gown with the magnificent broach, her long shiny gloves, gorgeous Sable Fur, all were laying in seductive, overlapping curves like a carefully marked out trail leading one to a treasure of promised ecstasy. For Eileen and her paramour, that ecstasy was to be found where the trail ended, in her boudoir. For me, the ecstasy lay where the trail had begun, the spot where she had removed her jewels before giving into the passion of the moment. The expensive pile gleamed invitingly, flickering like so many colorful cat eyes by my torches light. They were perched on her dresser, carelessly discarded for things so valuable, they snaked around the marble bird of prey that, alas, would soon prove a futile guardian.
I looked at the door to her bedroom, it was open a sliver and I could hear the raw animal sounds of their lovemaking. Obviously they were occupied for a while. Unhurriedly I carefully lifted each piece up, savoring their shimmering fire before stowing them safely away to join their mates. I then went to the gown on the floor and lifting it ran it through my fingers, it whispered and felt silky, even through my thin gloves. Reaching the brooch I carefully undid the clasp, pulling the jewel away. Dropping the gown, I then turned and silently retraced my steps. Gaining the cellar I watched out the window for any signs of activity. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t half expecting company.
As I waited I wondered who would be more upset over the loss of the grandmother’s jewelry, Eileen, or her “lover” Claude. For you see, “Claude” was a kindred spirit to my profession. He was known to me as Carl , a slick operator born in Brooklyn. He had also had correctly read the signs that Eileen possessed that made her a temptingly easy mark. For you see, Carl was the inside man for a gang of jet setting thieves. Cultured and handsome, it was his part to lure the chosen rich lady into his web and wine and dine her into complete compliancy in preparation of his actions. Once he had obtained her trust, he would select the perfect evening and “Claude” and his heavily jeweled paramour would be set upon by the thieves shortly after returning home on the designated evening. The Lady would be bound and gagged then be forced to watch as her home was stripped of its valuable treasures. The gang would leave with their haul, melting into obscurity with their treasure. Carl would disappear to his home overseas in New York until the next operation was formed. How Carl had found out about Eileen, I had no doubts. The type of blokes who peddled information on vulnerably wealthy prey have no problems with selling the same tidbits to multiple clients. It does have a tendency to make life a bit more interesting on occasion.
I had kept tabs on Eileen’s crooked paramour and soon learned that Carl’s actual girlfriend, who had been posing as his sister Maxine, had booked passage for two to the United States on a steamer leaving the very next weekend. I realized that my window of opportunity had been forced open. If he was preparing to flee the country on Saturday, as was his way immediately after a job, than I surmised that Eileen would be met with misadventure on Friday night before. This also happened to be the evening of a major charity Ball she had bought tickets for her and “Claude” to attend. So tonight, Saturday one week before the steamer was to leave, I made my own move hoping to beat Carl and his gang of scoundrels to the punch, at least where the grandmothers jewelry collection was concerned. I didn’t know if they would still attempt their plan once they realized the jewels had been lifted from under their noses, although, for Eileen’s sake, I hoped they would abandon them. Both ways, my tracks were covered, and before the sunrise I would be miles away.
I gave myself 15 precious minutes, before leaving via the window and making my escape. Nothing had stirred, in or around the house. So I had interpreted the signs correctly, the raid was not on for tonight. I quickly moved out and made for the tree line, melting into the night, soon losing myself (and Eileen’s Jewels) to the darkness.
**************************************
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
***************************
*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Trappings of the filthy rich
The Watcher in the woods
Pursuing the Posh
A Cat Burglar Saga
From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.
C.B. Case Study 13 , File B
Subset Source: Journal
Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?
ORIGINATION STORY:
flic.kr/p/BcnW2J
Synopsis:
The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.
I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.
The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.
Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.
So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?
Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.
So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.
There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.
The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.
She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!
But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.
But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.
She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.
I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!
***** Two productive evenings later ****************
It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.
I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).
But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.
The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.
This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.
With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.
Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.
And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…
The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!
I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.
Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.
Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.
It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.
I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.
I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!
A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.
Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.
I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.
Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.
The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.
Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!
Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.
I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.
It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.
Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.
They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!
They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.
Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.
Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).
But beady eyes says nothing..
He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.
It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.
I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.
I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.
I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.
I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.
In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.
I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.
I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.
I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.
I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.
But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.
I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.
As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.
This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.
A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….
I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.
So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……
But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.
I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.
One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.
Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!
And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.
************************************
Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans
Roughly translated:
If you want to make God laugh, Make plans
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
Name: Elizabeth M Cambettie alias McCree
Arrested for: not given
Arrested at: North Shields Police Station
Arrested on: 3 November 1906
Tyne and Wear Archives ref: DX1388-1-43-Elizabeth M Cambettie AKA McCree
The Shields Daily News for 3 November 1906 reports:
"LARCENY CASE AT NORTH SHIELDS.
At the North Shields Police Court this morning before Captains Bolt and Sanderson, Elizabeth Gambetter, a middle-aged woman, residing at 6 Bedford Street, was charged with stealing a skirt valued at 4s 6d, the property of Ellen Gorman, on the 2nd inst.
The prosecutrix, a domestic servant, employed in a shop at Swan's Quay, said that for some days past she had been sleeping at the house of the accused, paying her 1s a week. Yesterday morning she returned from the shop at 11.30 and found several things which had been in her pocket lying on the table. Missing the skirt she questioned Mrs Gambetter, who said that someone had come into the house and taken it. Witness did not believe the statement and informed the police.
Evidence was given showing that the prisoner pledged the skirt with Messrs Fisher, Church Way, for 2s 6d yesterday morning. Detective-Inspector Thornton proved the arrest. Accused admitted that she pledged the skirt as she was very short of money, but she meant to redeem it. A fine of 10s without costs was imposed, with the alternative of 14 days in gaol".
Elizabeth Cambettie (or possibly Cambetti) is also mentioned in the Shields Daily Gazette on a number of previous occasions. The Gazette for 2 September 1904 reports that:
"An Italian named Cosmo McCree, who keeps a boarding house in Clive Street, was summoned at North Shields for an assault upon his paramour, Eliz. M. Cambetti. Complainant, who was represented by Mr Chapman, told the Bench she had lived with defendant for four years."
These images are a selection from an album of photographs of prisoners brought before the North Shields Police Court between 1902 and 1916 in the collection of Tyne & Wear Archives (TWA ref DX1388/1).
(Copyright) We're happy for you to share this digital image within the spirit of The Commons. Please cite 'Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums' when reusing. Certain restrictions on high quality reproductions and commercial use of the original physical version apply though; if you're unsure please email archives@twmuseums.org.uk.
The mansion house stair-tower from the inside, with the north-east flanking tower in the distance. Even further in the distance, among the buildings of Biggar, two shurch steeples can be seen, and between them, lower, squatter and older, is Biggar Kirk, the fortified church I mentioned earlier.
As I stated under the previous photo, my educated guess would be that it was Robert Fleming of Biggar and Cumbernauld, 1st Lord Fleming, that was the builder of Boghall Castle, some time prior to his death in 1491. (I guess it wouldn't have been after would it?!) His son Malcolm died before him, but not before producing two sons : Sir David (who also died before his grandfather, and John 2nd Lord Fleming, who became Chamberlain of Scotland. The two brothers married two sisters, Elizabeth and Eupheme Drummond, daughters of John, 1st Lord Drummond - a family that has always fascinated me!
Lord Drummond has a considerable number of descendants, thanks largely to his wife producing 3 sons and at least 6 daughters. Margaret, the eldest of the daughters was, by all accounts (and there are many) a stunning beauty, so much so that she caught the eye of King James IV, whose 'paramour' she became. (They had a daughter together, also named Margaret, who also has numerous descendants). The king was by all accounts (and some of those accounts were written by the English Ambassador and sent to London) infatuated by Margaret Drummond, so much so that it is alleged there were fears he might marry her rather make a more diplomatically advantageous marriage to some European princess.
In April 1502, three of the Drummond sisters died of poisoning (they are buried in Dunblane Cathedral). The official version is that the cause was food poisoning, but the widespread belief at the time (unsupported by any evidence) was that Margaret was poisoned to prevent any possibility of her marrying the king and that the death of 2 of her sisters was 'colateral damage'! Stranger things have happened! One of those two sisters was Eupheme, wife to John, 2nd Lord Fleming.
. . . and if you have been following by recent posts, you might remember that John Lord Fleming was also(?) murdered, by the Tweedies of Tinnis.
The idea for this concept is based around the mythology of Adonis; the god of beauty and desire. Adonis as a new-born baby was sheltered by Aphrodite (who fell in love with the beautiful youth) who in turn entrusted him to Persephone. Persephone was taken by Adonis' beauty refused to give him back to Aphrodite. This made a dispute to both goddesses and was settled by Zeus. The ultimatum was for Adonis to spend one-third of every year with each goddess and the last third wherever he chose. He chose to spend two-thirds of the year with Aphrodite. Between his travels between the two goddesses, Adonis was poisoned by Ares, Aphrodite's paramour, who was jealous of Aphrodite's love for Adonis. The composite shows the final moments of Adonis arriving at Aphrodite's domain. Aphrodite came in after she heard the cries of pain of Adonis and he later died at her hands.
The death of Adonis has a lot of variation. It is said that he was killed by the boar that Artemis sent, or by Apollo to punish Aphrodite for blinding his son, and of course by Ares. I chose Ares because it tends to be more personal as he shares an intimate relationship with Aphrodite. Ares poisoning Adonis for me shows a very human aspect in the mythology, Poisoning someone tends to leave no trace of who did it and it gives an open interpretation on who actually killed Adonis. But of course you already know who did it, but to Aphrodite, it is a big question.
Belgian card by Cox, no. 10.
French actress and chanson singer Juliette Gréco (1927) was the muse of the existentialists such as Jean-Paul Sartre. Later she became the protégée of film mogul Darryl F. Zanuck, who cast her in his films.
Juliette Gréco was born in Montpellier, France, to a Corsican father and a mother active in the Résistance, in the Hérault département of southern France. She was raised by her maternal grandparents. Gréco also became involved in the Résistance, and was caught but not deported because of her young age. She moved to Saint-Germain-des-Prés in Paris in 1946 after her mother left the country for Indochina with the Navy. Gréco became a devotee of the bohemian fashion in post-war France. She dressed generally in black and let her long, black hair hang free. Greco almost married Miles Davis when he visited Paris in 1949. She became a muse not only for Sartre but for Albert Camus, Jacques Brel and Serge Gainsbourg, some of whom wrote strange, elliptical, poetic songs for her. She also became acquainted with Jean Cocteau, who gave her a role in Orphée/Orpheus (1950, Jean Cocteau) with Jean Marais. Other films in which she appeared were Au royaume des cieux/The Sinners (1949, Julien Duvivier) with Serge Reggiani, the comedy ...Sans laisser d'adresse/Without Leaving An Address (1951, Jean-Paul Le Chanois), Quand tu liras cette lettre/When You Read This Letter (1953, Jean-Pierre Melville), and Elena et les hommes (1956, Jean Renoir) starring Ingrid Bergman.
In 1949 Julliette Gréco also began a singing career. Si tu t'imagines (1950), with lyrics by Raymond Queneau, was one of her earliest songs to become popular. Other famous songs of her are Les Dames de la poste (1952) and Déshabillez-moi (1967). In 1956, during the shooting of the film The Sun Also Rises (1957, Henry King) with Tyrone Power and Ava Gardner, she became the paramour of American film producer and 20th Century Fox studio head Darryl F. Zanuck. He cast his protégee in films like The Naked Earth (1958, Vincent Sherman), The Roots of Heaven (1958, John Huston) with Errol Flynn, and Crack in the Mirror (1960, Richard Fleischer) with Orson Welles. She also prospered after parting company with 20th Century-Fox in the early 1960’s, continuing to play choice club dates and to co-star in such internationally financed films as The Night of the Generals (1967, Anatole Litvak) with Peter O’Toole and Omar Sharif. In later years she appeared in Lily, aime-moi/Lily, Love Me (1975, Maurice Dugowson) with Patrick Dewaere, the fantasy film Belphégor - Le fantôme du Louvre/Belphegor, Phantom of the Louvre (2001, Jean-Paul Salomé) with Sophie Marceau, and Jedermanns Fest/Everyman's Feast (2002, Fritz Lehner) opposite Klaus Maria Brandauer. In 1982 she published her autobiography, Jujube. ). In 2001 she suffered a heart attack on stage in her hometown Montpélier, but she recovered. Juliette Gréco has been married three times: to actor Philippe Lemaire (1953-1956); actor Michel Piccoli (1966-1977), and pianist Gérard Jouannest (1988-). Her daughter, Laurence-Marie Lemaire, is an actress too.
Sources: Wikipedia, Hal Erickson (All Movie Guide), Glyn Brown (The Independent), and IMDb.
Day 99 of 365: a year in songs and photos
Song: Bouncing Souls, Hopeless Romantic
I ventured to the 99 cent store yesterday. I'm sure you have one of those stores in your area - I've never driven through a town that didn't have at least one. Some of the stores might mark up for inflation (Everything One Dollar!), but it's the same idea.
I like this store. They have shelves filled with name brand stuff - Palmolive dishwashing soap, Scott paper towels, Arizona ice tea - as well as shelves brimming with name brands imported from other countries. Like a box of Tampons from Japan - you recognize the name and the branding symbol, but you're not sure if you're buying super size or light days. For 99 cents, you just wing it.
Every 99 cent store has at least two aisles devoted to kitsch. Small, useless statues. Plastic hand held games that haven't been seen since the 1960's. Precious Moment knock-offs emblazoned with cheesy sentiments. I always walk down the aisle in amazement, wondering who actually buys these things and why.
I found out the answer to that burning question yesterday. Those kitschy items are bought by the desperate. Men with shaky hands and darkened eyes who, when pressured, make bad life choices. If having an affair isn't a problem in and of itself, shopping in the dollar store for both your paramours just reeks of bad karma.
So I'm in the store picking up some paper towels and Scotch tape. As always, I find myself in the kitsch aisle. There's a display that's obviously meant to catch the eye of the cheap Valentine shopper. A row of plastic men with Barney Gumble physiques, arms outstretched, gut sticking out are placed at eye level. Chiseled on the base of the statue are the words I Love You This Much!
This is what passed for sentimental tokens of love back in the late 60's and early 70's. A whole line of these statues called Silliscupts made their way into our homes and wet bars, their big eyes and bulging stomachs standing guard over our shag rugs and linear furniture. That the inventors of these statues - the Berrie brothers - went on to form one of the most profitable stuffed animal companies ever is a bit alarming, as they built that empire on the backs of people who thought plastic sentiments made for good gifts.
The statues that line the shelves of the 99 cent store aren't genuine Silliscups, but they are from the same mold, so to speak. Trite sayings, cheap plastic, deformed people, animals that appear to have been part of some bold experiment in cross breeding - they're all right there in the most bizarre Valentine's Day display since the Vagina Monologues.
A nice looking middle aged man comes down the aisle. He stops in front of the row of plastic statues and begins fondling each one, seemingly to judge the sturdiness of the plastic. He picks up the guy with outstretched arms then puts him down. Picks up a wide-eyed girl who is saying "You're the BESTEST!" Puts her down and fiddles around with the Barney Gumble guy again. I notice a wedding ring on his finger. He's also holding a Valentine's Day card he's going to purchase along with his piece of kitsch. He puts the card down on the shelf to better caress his would-be purchases and I notice it's one of those double entendre cards that say "I love you" but mean "Strip naked and blow me." I'm thinking that this guy is in deep shit if he goes home with that card and 99 cent statue for his wife. I think about offering a little unsolicited advice, but keep my mouth shut because, who am I to judge? Maybe his wife likes cheap tokens of love. Maybe she thinks Barny Gumble is hot.
His cell rings. I recognize the ringtone as Rod Stewart's Do You Think I'm Sexy and a little warning bell goes off in my head. He's a playa.
So I stand there, feigning interesting in a plastic frog with felt heart eyes. His little froggy hand is holding up a sign that says "I'd croak without you." I listen in on Mr. Playa's half of the conversation. It's not hard to do, he's talking loud enough for me to think he wants me to hear him be the manly man that he is.
I know, sweetie. I know. But if we can't be together on Valentine's Day, we have the rest of the year to be together....
Yes, darling. Aruba does sound lovely. I just have to umm...wait...for umm....the right, uh, time....
It's you, baby. You're my real Valentine. Heheh, after all, who's getting the fur coat? And who's getting me? Hehe......
I swear he winks at me, but I turn my head, my attention diverted by a stuffed dog that has seen better days. It's ears are ragged and it smells like pepper, a smell that vaguely reminds me of church carnivals. The dog comes with a marker and there's a piece of white felt draped over it's back. I suppose you're supposed to write your own sentiments on the dog.
Victoria's Secret, eh? That pink one I liked so much? Really? Hehee
The guy picks up the Valentine's card he left on the shelf, glances at it and suddenly looks disgusted. He sticks the card back on the shelf, shoving it between the smiling clown figurine and the lighted seashell. His voice goes down one notch.
Well, I have to buy her something. You know how it is, uh uh...mmhmm....oh god, silk? Really? You what? Right now, you are?
I have this curious urge to check out the guy's crotch because I can tell from the tone of his voice he's sporting wood. Whoever is on the other end of the Do You Think I'm Sexy line is playing him for all he's worth. Instead, I grab the frog with the felt eyes and walk up to the cashier. Sexy guy has officially creeped me out and I want to get out of the store and back to my safe little world where people only buy 99 cent figurines as a joke. Because in the scenario I came up with, Sexy guy is buying that for his wife, while his mistress in pink silk is getting fur. I wonder how the wife will react. And then I wonder if that plastic statue is heavy enough to inflict damage if brought down on someone's head. Probably not.
So I woke up this morning thinking about Sexy guy and his wife and whether or not he actually gave her the statue as a Valentine's Day gift. I think the best present a guy like that could give his wife is to run off with whatever hobag he's sleeping with. Hopefully, he'll contract some sexually transmitted disease and his dick will fall off. While it's inside his ho.
I suppose Sexy guy's indiscretion isn't as bad as that of an old friends' ex husband who, for Valentine's Day in 1998, bought her a sexual aid that involved spikes, batteries and a safety warning that said "Have 911 on speed dial." A week after she had a hysterectomy.
Anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day to all of you. If we were strangers hanging out in a bar, I'd stick my tongue down your throat and make inappropriate comments about your sexual prowess. But we're not, so you'll just have to settle for frog with felt eyes.
( i wrote this four years ago)
The Postcard
A postcard that was printed and published by J. Salmon of Sevenoaks during the days when men's trousers were opened and closed with buttons rather than zips. The artwork was by F. G. Lewin.
The card was posted in Isleham, Cambridgeshire using a 1d. stamp on Monday the 11th. December 1922. It was sent to:
Mr. F. W. Deacon,
Fire Station,
Mitcham Lane,
Streatham,
London.
The pencilled message on the divided back of the card was as follows:
"Hope you are all well
and enjoy the Service.
Very nice don't you
think?
Love to all,
A. H."
A Transfer of Power in Poland
So what else happened on the day that the card was posted?
Well, on the 11th. December 1922, Gabriel Narutowicz was inaugurated as the first President of Poland amid violent rioting by an estimated 20,000 protesters.
The unrest arose from a speech made the previous day by General Jozef Haller, commander-in-chief of the Army of Poland.
The protesters were mostly students and school boys who were seeking to prevent the inaugural ceremony. They pelted the new President with snowballs as he was being driven to the National Assembly Chamber.
In clashes with police, four protesters were killed, and more than 100 injured, ten of them seriously.
William G. Henderson
The day also marked the death at the age of 40 of William G. Henderson. William was an American motorcycle manufacturer and inductee into the Motorcycle Hall of Fame.
He was killed in an accident while testing the latest model produced by his Ace Motor Corporation, when he collided with an automobile at an intersection in Philadelphia.
Two British Executions
Also on the 11th. December 1922, British couple Edith Thompson and Frederick Bywaters were found guilty of the murder of Edith's husband, Percy Thompson, and sentenced to death. Their case became a cause célèbre; nevertheless they were both hanged 15 days later.
(a) Edith Thompson
Edith Thompson was born Edith Jessie Graydon on the 25th. December 1893, at 97 Norfolk Road in Dalston, London, the first of the five children of William Eustace Graydon, a clerk with the Imperial Tobacco Company, and his wife Ethel Jessie Graydon (née Liles), the daughter of a police constable.
During her childhood, Edith was a happy, talented girl who excelled at dancing and acting, and was academically bright, with a natural ability in arithmetic. After leaving school in 1909 she joined a firm of clothing manufacturers near Aldgate station in London.
Then, in 1911, she was employed at Carlton & Prior, wholesale milliners, in the Barbican and later in Aldersgate. Edith quickly established a reputation as a stylish and intelligent woman, and was promoted several times, until she became the company's chief buyer and made regular trips to Paris on their behalf.
In 1909, at the age of 15, Edith met Percy Thompson who was three years her senior. After a six-year engagement, they were married at St. Barnabas, Manor Park on the 15th. January 1916.
At first, the couple lived in Retreat Road in Westcliff-on-Sea, before buying a house at 41 Kensington Gardens in the then-fashionable London suburb of Ilford in July 1920. With both their careers flourishing, they lived a comfortable life.
(b) Frederick Bywaters
In 1920, the couple became acquainted with 18-year-old Frederick Bywaters.
Frederick Bywaters had enlisted in the merchant navy. Twenty-six year-old Edith was immediately attracted to Bywaters, who was handsome and impulsive, and whose stories of his travels around the world excited Edith's love of romantic adventure.
To Edith, the youthful Bywaters represented her romantic ideal; by comparison, 29-year-old Percy seemed staid and conventional.
Percy—oblivious to the emerging romantic attraction between his wife and Bywaters—welcomed the youth into their company. Shortly thereafter, the trio—joined by Edith's sister Avis—holidayed in Shanklin on the Isle of Wight. Upon their return, Percy invited Bywaters to lodge with them.
(c) The Affair
While holidaying in the Isle of Wight in June 1921, Edith and Bywaters began an affair. Initially, Percy was unaware of this, although he gradually noticed his wife was drifting away from him.
Matters came to a head barely a month after the affair started. A trivial incident in the Thompsons’ garden triggered a violent row during which Percy Thompson struck his wife and caused her to fall over some furniture. Bywaters intervened and Thompson ordered him out of the house.
The Thompsons' sitting tenant, a Mrs. Lester, commented on Mrs Thompson's bruises in one of her statements to police.
From September 1921 until September 1922 Bywaters was at sea, and during this time Edith Thompson wrote to him frequently. After his return, they met up again.
(d) The Murder
On the 3rd. October 1922, the Thompsons attended a performance at the Criterion Theatre in Piccadilly Circus, together with Edith's uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. J. Laxton. They left the theatre at 11 pm and they all went to Piccadilly Circus tube station, where they separated.
The Thompsons caught the 11:30 pm train to Ilford. As they walked along Belgrave Road, between Endsleigh and De Vere Gardens, a man jumped out from behind some bushes near their home and attacked Percy.
After a violent struggle, during which Edith Thompson was knocked to the ground, Percy was stabbed. Mortally wounded, he died before Edith could summon help. The attacker fled.
Neighbours later reported hearing a woman (assumed to have been Edith) screaming hysterically and shouting "Oh don’t, oh don’t" several times.
By the time police arrived Edith had not composed herself. At the police station the following day she was distressed. She was unaware that Bywaters was already a suspect: he was arrested that evening and taken to Ilford Police Station.
The police confronted Edith with Bywaters. One of the inspectors, Frank Hall, untruthfully told her that Bywaters had already confessed. She then admitted to the police that she knew who the assailant was, and provided the police with details of her association with Bywaters.
The police investigated further, and discovered a series of more than 60 love letters from Edith Thompson to Bywaters. The letters were the only tangible evidence linking Edith Thompson to the killer.
In the London Magistrates Court in Stratford, Edith's defence argued that the letters did not connect Mrs. Thompson to the place or manner of the murder. Accordingly they did not allow for consideration of common purpose, namely that if two people agree to achieve the death of a third, and one of these people acts on the expressed intentions of both, both are equally guilty.
The presiding magistrate decided that the letters should be admitted, and that the court at the Old Bailey would rule on it again. Edith Thompson and Frederick Bywaters were each committed for trial, charged with murder.
(e) The Old Bailey Trial
The trial began on the 6th. December 1922 at the Old Bailey, with Bywaters defended by Cecil Whiteley KC, and Thompson by Sir Henry Curtis-Bennett KC.
The prosecution for the Crown was led by the Solicitor-General Sir Thomas Inskip.
Bywaters had cooperated completely. He had led police to the murder weapon he concealed after the murder, and consistently maintained that he had acted without Edith's knowledge.
Edith Thompson's love letters were produced as evidence of incitement to murder. The letters dated from November 1921 to the end of September 1922. They ran to over 55,000 words, and afforded a day-to-day account of her life in London when her lover Bywaters was at sea.
In a few passages of these letters she writes about her longing to be free of her husband, Percy. She refers to grinding glass light bulbs to shards and feeding them to Percy mixed into mashed potato, and on another occasion feeding him poison.
She wrote about a woman who had lost three husbands and remarked:
“I can’t even lose one.”
Thompson described how she had carried out her own abortion after becoming pregnant by Bywaters.
Edith Thompson's counsel urged her not to testify, stressing that the burden of proof lay with the prosecution, and that there was nothing they could prove other than that she had been present at the murder.
However she rejected his advice. She was determined to give evidence, imagining that she could save Bywaters. As Curtis-Bennett later observed, she had no conception of the danger she was in.
She made a poor impression on the judge and the jury, particularly when she repeatedly contradicted herself. She had claimed that she had never attempted to poison her husband, and references in her letters to attempting to kill him were merely attempts to impress her paramour.
In answer to several questions relating to the meaning of some of the passages in her letters, she said:
"I have no idea."
Bywaters stated that Edith Thompson had known nothing of his plans, nor could she have, as he had not intended to murder her husband.
He claimed that his aim had been to confront Percy and to force him to deal with the situation, and that when Percy had reacted in a superior manner and threatened to shoot him, Bywaters had lost his temper.
Edith Thompson, he repeatedly claimed, had made no suggestion to him to kill Percy, nor did she know that Bywaters intended to confront him.
In discussing the letters, Bywaters stated that he had never believed Edith had attempted to harm her husband, but that he believed she had a vivid imagination, fuelled by the novels she enjoyed reading, and in her letters she viewed herself in some way as one of these fictional characters.
(f) Conviction
On the 11th. December the jury returned a verdict of guilty against both defendants. Both Thompson and Bywaters were sentenced to death by hanging.
Edith Thompson became hysterical and started screaming in the court, while Bywaters loudly protested Edith Thompson's innocence, stating:
"I say the verdict of the jury is
wrong. Edith Thompson is not
guilty."
(g) Imprisonment
Before and during the trial, Thompson and Bywaters were the subjects of highly sensationalist and critical media commentary. However after they had been sentenced to death, there was a dramatic shift in public attitudes and in media coverage.
Nearly a million people signed a petition against the death sentences. Bywaters in particular attracted admiration for his fierce loyalty and his protectiveness towards Edith Thompson, but she was widely regarded as the controlling mind that had set it all up.
It was generally considered abhorrent to hang a woman (no woman had been executed in Britain since 1907). Despite the petition and a new confession from Bywaters (in which he once again declared Thompson to be completely innocent) the Home Secretary, William Bridgeman, refused a reprieve.
A few days before their executions, Edith Thompson was told that the date of execution had been fixed, at which point she lost her composure. She spent the last few days of her life in a state of near-hysteria, crying, screaming, moaning, and unable to eat.
(h) The Executions
On the 9th. January 1923 in Holloway Prison, 29-year-old Edith Thompson collapsed in terror at the prospect of her hanging. Heavily sedated by the prison governor, almost unconscious, she was carried to the gallows by four prison warders.
The ordeal of executing Edith Thompson had a profound effect on her hangman John Ellis.
In Pentonville Prison, 20-year-old Frederick Bywaters, who had tried since his arrest to save Thompson from imprisonment and execution, was himself hanged.
The two executions occurred simultaneously at 9:00 am, only about 1⁄2 mile (800 m) apart.
(i) Burial
As was the rule, the bodies of Edith Thompson and Frederick Bywaters were initially buried within the walls of the prisons in which they had been executed.
In 1971 Holloway Prison underwent an extensive programme of rebuilding, during which the bodies of all the women executed there were exhumed for reburial outside the confines of the prison. With the exception of Ruth Ellis, the remains of the four women executed at Holloway (Edith Thompson, Styllou Christofi, Amelia Sach and Annie Walters) were reburied in a single grave at Brookwood Cemetery in Surrey.
The new grave (at plot 117) remained unmarked for over 20 years. It was acquired in the 1980's by René Weis and Audrey Russell, who had interviewed Avis Graydon (Edith Thompson's surviving sister) at length in the 1970's.
On the 13th. November 1993, a grey granite memorial was placed on plot 117, and dedicated to the memory of the four women buried there. The grave and plot were formally consecrated by the Reverend Barry Arscott of St. Barnabas, Manor Park, the church in which Edith Thompson was married in January 1916.
Edith Thompson's details appear prominently on the face of the tombstone, together with her an epitaph:
"Sleep on beloved. Her death
was a legal formality".
The names of the other three women are inscribed around the edges of the tombstone.
Representatives of the Home Office did not inform Avis Graydon of the exhumation and the fact that she had the right to take control of her sister's funeral arrangements.
The remains of Frederick Bywaters still lie in an unmarked grave within the walls of HMP Pentonville, where they were buried shortly after his execution in January 1923.
The remains of Percy Thompson are buried at the City of London Cemetery and Crematorium.
In her will, Avis Graydon expressed a wish for Mass to be said for members of the Graydon family every 9th. January, the anniversary of her sister Edith's death. This annual service of remembrance was restarted after the publication of Weis's book in 1988. Since the early 1990's, an annual service of remembrance has taken place at St. Barnabas, Manor Park (East Ham) every 9th. January at 8:30 am.
In July 2018 an exhumation order was granted by the Ministry of Justice to René Weis, Edith Thompson's executor and heir. On the 20th. November 2018 Edith Thompson's remains were exhumed from Brookwood Cemetery, and on the 22nd. November 2018 she was buried alongside her parents, in accordance with her mother's wishes, in the City of London Cemetery.
I fret at times and worry about little things I can't do anything about as they are in the past, but even more stupidly why should I really as I have so much going, after all a lot of gurls and indeed guys too would love the pleasant life as a female paramour I've made for myself. At one time before I knew better on how to dress I used to get sarcastic remarks and wolf-whistles from ignorant plasterer and brickie white van man types. The last lot of students, one who tried to 'out me' in the street starting to say look at that tranny I gave such an evil look to no student since has dared make fun of me like that so I must have a learnt to have an attutude or as I prefer to call it confidence. My only bugbear is family as my oldest brother has disowned me and this year instead of send my usual Christmas Greeting I thought I would hold back and see if they might send me one first. As you see I'm still patiently waiting but it doesn't matter any more as hopefully it will be a nice day and I look lovely..
British postcard by Go Card. Photo: 20th Century Fox. Publicity still for Moulin Rouge! (Baz Luhrmann, 2001)
Scottish actor Ewan McGregor (1971) first received worldwide acclaim with his role as heroin addict Mark Renton in Trainspotting (1996). Later, he played the young Obi-Wan in the Star Wars prequel trilogy, and poet Christian in the musical Moulin Rouge! (2001).
Ewan Gordan McGregor was born in 1971 in Crieff, Scotland, just a few miles north of Edinburgh. His parents were the schoolteachers James Charles Stuart McGregor and Carole Diane Lawson. His uncle is actor Denis Lawson. He also has a brother Colin, who became a RAF pilot. As a child, Ewan did little acting, but enjoyed singing, and became a soloist for his school's orchestra and choir. At age 16, he left Morrison Academy in Crieff to join the Perth Repertory Theatre. His parents encouraged him to leave school and pursue his acting goals rather than be unhappy. Ewan worked as a stagehand and had small roles in the productions of the Perth Repertory Theatre. Then, he studied three years at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama in London. Six months prior to his graduation from Guildhall, he landed a major role as Private Mick Hopper in the excellent TV series Lipstick on Your Collar (Renny Rye, 1993), written by Dennis Potter. McGregor then starred in the miniseries The Scarlet & The Black (Ben Bolt, 1993), an adaptation of Henri Beyle Stendhal's 1830 novel. In that same year, McGregor made his film debut with a bit part in the American drama Being Human (Bill Forsyth, 1993), which starred Robin Williams. The film undeservedly flopped and closed almost as soon as it opened, which limited McGregor's exposure. He continued to make television appearances in the United States and Britain, including Family Style (Justin Chadwick, 1993), Doggin' Around (Desmond Davis, 1994) and an episode of the crime series Kavanagh QC (Colin Gregg, 1995). He got his first major film role in the Noir Shallow Grave (Danny Boyle, 1994), which was received well by the critics. Samuli Launonen at IMDb: “A great modern thriller containing all the necessary ingredients of a decent suspense story: constantly growing tension, sly humor, and genuinely surprising plot twists. (…) The three leads are all great, but there's no question about who the movie belongs to: Ewan McGregor is energetic, powerful and photogenic in his portrayal of a young journalist.” In 1995, McGregor married, French production designer Eve Mavrakis. He continued to work in British films as the surfing parable Blue Juice (Carl Prechezer, 1995) with Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Peter Greenaway's The Pillow Book (1996). Then he had his big break with Trainspotting (1996), his second film with director Danny Boyle. McGregor shaved his head and lost 30 lbs to play the main character and heroin addict Mark Renton. The film, an adaptation of Irvine Welsh's novel, and McGregor's role received worldwide critical acclaim. Following this success, he took a completely different role as Frank Churchill in the Jane Austen adaptation Emma (Douglas McGrath, 1996), starring Gwyneth Palthrow. His next films included Brassed Off (Mark Herman, 1996), The Serpent's Kiss (Philippe Rousselot, 1997), A Life Less Ordinary (Danny Boyle, 1997), and Nightwatch (Ole Bornedal, 1998). He also acted opposite Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Christian Bale in Velvet Goldmine (Todd Haynes, 1999), as a 1970s-era glam rocker in the mode of Iggy Pop. Ewan McGregor landed the largest role of his career when he signed on in 1998 as Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Star Wars prequel trilogy. McGregor already had a connection with the iconic movie series as his uncle, Denis Lawson, appeared as Wedge Antilles in the original three films. He studied Alec Guinness' films in preparation for his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi to ensure accuracy in everything from his accent to the pacing of his words. Star Wars: Episode I–The Phantom Menace (George Lucas, 1999) was a box-office blockbuster, which launched the then 28-year-old actor into megastardom. The next two instalments of the trilogy would follow years later.
In the early 21st century, Ewan McGregor started his own production company called Natural Nylon. He founded it with fellow actors Jude Law, Sadie Frost, Jonny Lee Miller and Sean Pertwee. The group's first film was the biopic Nora (Pat Murphy, 2000), which dramatized the real-life relationship between Irish author James Joyce and Nora Barnacle. McGregor starred as Joyce opposite Susan Lynch as Barnacle. McGregor took on another challenging role in the musical Moulin Rouge! (Baz Luhrmann, 2000), set in Paris in 1899. McGregor starred as the young poet Christian, who falls in love with the terminally-ill courtesan Satine, played by Nicole Kidman. Perry Seibert at AllMovie: “A bold artistic statement, Moulin Rouge is Baz Luhrmann's first masterpiece. Frantically edited, paced, and photographed, the film is not an easy undertaking; it forces the viewer to accept it on its terms. The sets, costumes, and sound are stylish in the extreme. The greatest risk the film takes is having the characters speak predominantly in song lyrics. The young writer Christian (Ewan McGregor) and the doomed performer Satine (Nicole Kidman) argue about whether they will fall in love while telling each other, "Love lifts us up where we belong" and "I will always love you." When they aren't speaking in song lyrics, they sing to each other, with McGregor doing a better than credible job with Elton John's "Your Song".” McGregor was nominated for a Golden Globe Award for Best Actor for his part and a Screen Actors Guild Award for Outstanding Performance by a Cast. Later that same year, the war film Black Hawk Down (Ridley Scott, 2001) was released with McGregor among an ensemble cast. He continued his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi in the second film of the trilogy, Star Wars: Episode II–Attack of the Clone (George Lucas, 2002), which was another commercial success. McGregor was able to parlay his popularity into many more films. When Tim Burton was looking for someone in McGregor's age range to play Albert Finney as a young man in the fantasy film Big Fish (2003), he was given the part. The film was a critical and commercial success as well. McGregor also starred in the drama Young Adam, (David Mackenzie, 2003). He played Joe Taylor, one of two barge workers who pull up the corpse of a young woman from a river. Also that year, McGregor and Renée Zellweger starred in Down With Love (Peyton Reed, 2003), a homage to 1960s romantic comedies. During 2004, McGregor and his best friend Charley Boorman created a documentary about riding their motorcycles from London to New York. The pair travelled east through Europe and Asia, and then flew to Alaska to finish the journey to New York. The entire journey, entitled Long Way Round, covered over 19,000 miles and 12 countries. The project was conceived partly to raise awareness of the worldwide efforts of UNICEF. McGregor reprised his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi for the final time for Star Wars: Episode III–Revenge of the Sith (George Lucas, 2005). He also lent his voice to the animated family film Robots (Chris Wedge, Carlos Saldanha, 2005), starred with Scarlett Johansson in the big-budget Sci-Fi actioner The Island (Michael Bay, 2005), and filmed the psychological thriller Stay (Marc Forster, 2005).
After multiple commercial and critical successes, Ewan McGregor tried his hand at two arthouse films in 2006. His first was Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Ed Blum's directorial debut about a day in the life of seven British couples. The second was Miss Potter (Chris Noonan, 2007), a biopic on the life of popular author Beatrix Potter (Renée Zellweger). McGregor portrays Norman, her editor and paramour. He also tried his hand at stage acting. From 2005 till 2007 he played Sky Masterson in the revival of Guys & Dolls at London's Piccadilly Theatre, and for this part, he was nominated for a Laurence Olivier Award for Best Actor in a Musical in 2007. He also appeared on stage as Iago in Othello (2007–2008). In between, McGregor and Boorman created a follow-up documentary to their 2004 trip. For Long Way Down (2007), they rode their motorcycles from John o' Groats in northern Scotland to Cape Town, South Africa. Next he appeared in the films Cassandra's Dream (Woody Allen, 2007) with Colin Farrell, Incendiary (Sharon Maguire, 2008) and Deception (Marcel Langenegger, 2008) with Hugh Jackman. McGregor starred with Jim Carrey as a gay couple in I Love You Phillip Morris (Glenn Ficarra, John Requa, 2009), and appeared in the blockbuster Angels & Demons (Ron Howard, 2009), the sequel to the popular Dan Brown novel and film, The DaVinci Code. For the title role in Roman Polanski's The Ghost Writer (2010), he won the Best Actor award at the 23rd European Film Awards. Bruce Eder at AllMovie: “McGregor is amazingly good in a role that gives him relatively little to work with -- his is a character that not only has no name, but no past to speak of and no family entanglements, so his experience shouldn't resonate much with the audience. But what should become a cipher that few can penetrate instead becomes a kind of big-screen everyman for audience members to relate to -- up to a point. This is a very cold movie at its center, very distant, despite McGregor's success at fleshing out a character that is hardly more than a skeleton, in terms of what he brings to us. He's just vulnerable enough, and surprised and skeptical enough -- about what he's been asked to do, and the world of politics to which he's been asked to enter -- to give us something to grab on to.” His later films include Beginners (Mike Mills, 2010), Perfect Sense (David Mackenzie, 2011) opposite Eva Green, the British romantic comedy-drama Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (Lasse Hallström, 2011), Lo imposible (J.A. Bayona, 2012), and August: Osage County (John Wells, 2013). He was awarded the OBE (Officer of the Order of the British Empire) in the 2013 Queen's New Years Honours List for his services to drama and charity. Ewan McGregor and his wife have three daughters: Clara Mathilde (1996), Esther Rose (2001), and 4-year-old Jamiyan adopted from Mongolia in 2006. His recent films include the Miles Davis biopic Miles Ahead (Don Cheadle, 2015) and the British thriller Our Kind of Traitor (Susanna White, 2016). For 2017 is scheduled T2: Trainspotting, in which he will return as Mark Renton, again under the direction of Danny Boyle. On TV he will star in the third season of the hit series Fargo, now set in 2010.
Sources: Samuli Launonen (IMDb), Perry Seibert (AllMovie), Bruce Eder (AllMovie), Biography.com, AllMovie, Wikipedia and IMDb.
The Postcard
A postally unused carte postale that was published by Flandrin. The image is a glossy real photograph, and the card has a divided back.
Casablanca
Casablanca, located in the central-western part of Morocco bordering the Atlantic Ocean, is the largest city in Morocco.
It is also the largest city in the Maghreb, as well as one of the largest and most important cities in Africa, both economically and demographically.
Casablanca is Morocco's chief port and one of the largest financial centers on the continent.
According to a 2014 population estimate, the city has a population of about 3.35 million in the urban area and over 6.8 million in the Casablanca-Settat region.
Casablanca is considered the economic and business center of Morocco, although the national political capital is Rabat.
The leading Moroccan companies and international corporations doing business in the country have their headquarters and main industrial facilities in Casablanca.
The Port of Casablanca is one of the largest artificial ports in the world. Casablanca also hosts the primary naval base for the Royal Moroccan Navy.
Albert Laprade, Architect
Casablanca's new quarter was designed by the French architect Albert Laprade. He was born in Buzançais, Indre on the 29th. November 1883. He was the only son of a wholesale grocer and a seamstress from Châteauroux.
Between 1910 and 1914 Laprade worked in the studio of René Sergent, an uncle by marriage, who designed townhouses and chateaux lavishly decorated in the Louis XV style.
He was called up in 1914 with the outbreak of the Great War. In 1915 he was wounded at Ypres and sent to Rouen to recover, but was unable to return to the field.
Laprade then worked in town planning, and was given the tasks of redesigning the great central park in Casablanca, and then planning a new indigenous town.
Laprade first made many drawings of local architectural motifs in an effort to understand the interaction of stylistic elements with social functions.
His goal was to develop an elegant urban architecture based on modern technology that would be appropriate to the stylistic tastes and way of life of the Moroccan people.
His new Médina in Casablanca was separate from the earlier French quarter and very different in design. Laprade followed Moroccan traditions in the division between interior courtyards and the street.
His new quarter, in neo-Moorish style using modern materials, technology and sanitary principles, included pedestrian walkways, courtyard houses, markets, communal ovens, mosques, schools and public baths.
Casablanca and the French
In June 1907, the French attempted to build a light railway near the port which would have passed through a graveyard.
As an act of resistance and protestation, the locals attacked the French, riots ensued, causing a few soldiers to be wounded and one general to be killed.
In response, the French attacked by ship, bombarding the city from the coast, and landing troops inside the town, which caused severe damage to the town with 15,000 dead and wounded.
The French claimed that it was to restore order there. This effectively began the process of colonization, although French control of Casablanca was not formalised until 1910. Under the French rule, Muslim anti-Jewish riots occurred in 1908.
Humphrey Bogart
The famous 1942 film 'Casablanca' (starring Humphrey Bogart) underlined the city's colonial status at the time - depicting it as the scene of a power struggle between competing European powers. The film has a cosmopolitan cast of characters.
Hubert Lyautey
The school in the photograph is named after Hubert Lyautey, who was born in Nancy, French Empire, on the 17th. November 1854.
Louis Hubert Gonzalve Lyautey was a French Army general and colonial administrator. After serving in Indochina and Madagascar, he became the first French Resident-General in Morocco from 1912 to 1925.
Early in 1917 he served briefly as Minister of War. From 1921 he was a Marshal of France. He was dubbed the French empire builder, and in 1931 made the cover of Time.
Hubert Lyautey - The Early Years
Lyautey's father was a prosperous engineer, and his grandfather a highly decorated Napoleonic general. His mother was a Norman aristocrat, and Lyautey inherited many of her assumptions: monarchism, patriotism, Catholicism and belief in the moral and political importance of the elite.
In 1873 he entered the French military academy of Saint-Cyr. He attended the army training school in early 1876, and in December 1877 was made a lieutenant.
After graduating from St. Cyr, two months' holiday in Algeria in 1878 left him impressed by the Maghreb and by Islam. He served in the cavalry, and made his career serving in the colonies and not in a more prestigious assignment in metropolitan France.
Hubert Lyautey in Morocco
In 1903 Hubert was posted to command first a subdivision south of Oran, and then the whole Oran district. His official task was to protect a new railway line against attacks from Morocco. French commanders in Algeria moved into Morocco largely on their own initiative, early in 1903.
Later in the year Lyautey marched west and occupied Bechar, a clear breach of 1840's treaties. The following year he advanced further into Morocco, in clear disobedience to the Minister of War, threatening to resign if he were not supported by Paris.
The French Foreign Minister issued a vague disavowal of Lyautey, because he was concerned at clashing with British influence in Morocco. As it turned out, Great Britain, Spain and Italy were placated by France agreeing to allow them a free hand in Egypt, northern Morocco and Libya respectively, and the only objections to French expansion in the region came from Germany.
Lyautey met Isabelle Eberhardt in 1903, and employed her for intelligence missions. After her death in 1904, he chose her tombstone.
Early in 1907 Émile Mauchamp, a French doctor, was killed in Marrakesh, possibly as he was attempting to lay the groundwork for French expansion. Lyautey then occupied Oujda in eastern Morocco near the Algerian border. Having been promoted to division general, Lyautey was Military Governor of French Morocco from 4 August 1907.
After taking Oudja, he went to Rabat to put pressure on the Sultan, getting embroiled in a power struggle between the Sultan and his brother, with Germany and France taking sides in the dispute.
On the 14th. October 1909, in Paris, the openly homosexual Lyautey married Inès Fortoul, née de Bourgoing, widow of Joseph Fortoul, an artillery colonel who had committed suicide. She was also a god daughter of former Empress Eugénie and president of the French Red Cross, who had just organized the Red Cross in Morocco. The marriage was childless.
Hubert returned to France in 1910, and in January 1911 he took up command of a corps at Rennes.
In 1912 Lyautey was posted back to Morocco, and relieved Fez, which was being besieged by 20,000 Moroccans. After the Convention of Fez established a protectorate over Morocco, Lyautey served as Resident-General of French Morocco from the 28th. April 1912 to the 25th. August 1925. Sultan Moulay Hafid abdicated at the end of 1912, replaced by his more pliable brother, although the country was not fully pacified until 1934.
Hubert Lyautey in the Great War
On the 27th. July 1914, Resident-General Lyautey received a cable from Paris from the undersecretary of foreign affairs Abel Ferry. Hubert was quoted as telling his officers:
"They are completely mad. A war between
Europeans is a civil war. This is the most
monumental foolishness that they have
ever done."
However, like many professional soldiers, he disliked the Third Republic, and in some ways welcomed the outbreak of war:
"Because the politicians
have shut up".
The same day War Minister Messimy told Lyautey to prepare to abandon Morocco except for the major cities and ports, and to send all seasoned troops to France. Messimy later said this had been a "formal" order.
At the outbreak of war Lyautey was commanding 70,000 troops, all members of the Armée d'Afrique or part of La Coloniale. Under French law, metropolitan conscripts might only under very exceptional circumstances be made to serve abroad.
Initially he sent two Algerian-Tunisian divisions to the Western Front, then another two, plus two brigades of Algerians serving in Morocco, and a brigade of 5,000 Moroccans.
Over seventy battalions of Algerians and Tunisians served on the Western front, while one Moroccan and seven Algerian regiments of Spahis (cavalry) served dismounted on the Western Front – others fought in Macedonia or – mounted – in the Levant.
In 1914, 33 officers, 580 soldiers and the weapons of two battalions were lost in an expedition near Khenifra. Although this was to prove the only incident in Morocco during the war, Lyautey was worried about the threat of jihad as a result of German propaganda in Morocco, and many of the remaining legionnaires were German.
Four territorial regiments were sent from the south of France and served alongside the mobilised European colonists. By mid-1915 Lyautey had sent 42 battalions to the Western Front, receiving in return middle-aged reservists (whom to his delight were regarded as seasoned warriors by the Moroccans), battalions of Tirailleurs Sénégalais and Tirailleurs Marocains, as well as irregular Moroccan goumiers.
With 200,000 men Lyautey had to hold down the Middle Atlas and the Rif, suppressing rebellions by Zaians at Khenifra, Abd al Malik at the Taza, and al Hiba in the south, the latter aided by German U-boats. Lyautey argued that Verdun and Morocco were part of the same war.
Lyautey disregarded advice to concentrate major forces in a few cities and took a personal risk by spreading them all over the country. In the end, his gamble proved right as he had a psychological edge over potentially mutinous tribal chiefs. Lyautey had 71,000 men by July 1915. He insisted France would win the war, and continued with the usual trade fairs and road and rail construction.
Hubert Lyautey as Minister of War
Lyautey served as France's Minister of War for three months in 1917, which were clouded by the unsuccessful Nivelle Offensive and the French Army Mutinies.
Lyautey was apparently surprised to receive a telegram offering him the job on the 10th. December 1916 and demanded, and was given, authority to issue orders to Nivelle (the new Commander-in-Chief of French forces on the Western Front) and Sarrail (Commander-in-Chief at Salonika).
Sniveler's predecessor Joffre had enjoyed much greater freedom from the War Minister and had also had command over Salonika.
Prime Minister Aristide Briand, not going into detail about Joffre's removal, replied that Lyautey would be one of a War Committee of five members, controlling manufacturing, transport and supply, and thus giving him greater powers than his predecessors.
Lyautey replied "I shall answer your call". Lyautey had to spend a good deal of time touring units and learning about the Western front.
Lyautey was strongly disliked by the political Left, and when Briand reconstructed his government in December 1916, Painlevé declined to stay part (he had been Minister of Public Instruction and Fine Arts) as he was reluctant to be associated with Lyautey.
However doubts about the replacement of Joffre by Nivelle rather than Philippe Petain also played a role (Painlevé was later himself Minister of War for much of 1917, then briefly Prime Minister late in the year).
Lyautey was met with a fait accompli as Nivelle, whom he would not have chosen, had been appointed Commander-in-Chief by the acting War Minister Admiral Lacaze, whilst munitions under Albert Thomas (formerly Under-Secretary for War) were hived off into a separate ministry assisted by the industrialist Louis Loucheur as Under-Secretary of State.
Lyautey had hoped to rely on Joffre, Ferdinand Foch and de Castelnau, but the first soon resigned from his job as advisor, Foch had already been sacked as commander of Army Group North, de Castelnau was sent on a mission to Russia, and Lyautey was not permitted to revive the post of Chief of the Army General Staff.
Lyautey was hard of hearing and inclined to dominate conversation. As minister and cabinet member, he preferred to deal directly with the British government via the British Embassy, to the annoyance of the British CIGS Robertson (at a time when generals of both countries tried to prevent politicians from "interfering" in the details of strategy), who disliked Lyautey.
On the train to the Rome Conference (5th./6th. January 1917) Lyautey stood before a map lecturing the British delegation on their Palestine campaign. Robertson, a man of notorious bluntness, listened to the lecture then asked Lloyd George "Has he finished?" before retiring to bed.
Robertson told Lloyd George "That fellow won’t last long". He wrote to the King’s adviser Clive Wigram on the 12th. January:
"Lyautey is a dried-up person of the Anglo-Indian
type who has been in the colonies all his life and
talks of nothing else. He talks a good deal.
He has no grasp whatever of the war as yet, and I
should doubt if he remains long where he is now."
Lyautey attended the infamous Calais Conference on the 27th. February 1917, at which Lloyd George attempted to subordinate British forces in France to Nivelle.
After a serious argument had broken out between Lloyd George and the British generals, Lyautey claimed that he had not seen the proposals until he boarded the train for Calais.
On being shown Nivelle's plan, Lyautey declared that it was "A plan for the Duchess of Gerolstein" (a light opera satirising the army).
Hubert contemplated trying to have Nivelle dismissed, but backed down in the face of traditional Republican hostility to military men with political aspirations. Lyautey shared his concerns about Nivelle with Petain, commander of Army Group Centre, who would eventually replace him.
Lyautey refused to discuss military aviation even at a closed session of the French Chamber, and at the subsequent open session declared that to discuss such matters even in closed session would be a security risk.
He resigned as Minister of War after being shouted down in the Chamber on the 15th. March 1917, and after several leading politicians declined the post of Minister of War, Aristide Briand's sixth cabinet (12th. December 1916 – 20th. March 1917) fell four days later.
Hubert Lyautey's Homosexuality
Lyautey has been called:
"Perhaps France's most distinguished –
or infamous – homosexual."
Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau – whom Lyautey despised, as he did most politicians – is quoted as having said:
"Here is an admirable and courageous man
who always had balls up to his ass. It's just a
shame that they are not always his."
It has been speculated that Lyautey might have provided Marcel Proust with the model for the character of the homosexual Baron de Charlus in his magnum opus Remembrance of Things Past.
The actual evidence for Lyautey being a homosexual is primarily circumstantial, but it was widely regarded as an open secret at the time, and one which Lyautey did not make any effort to hide. Robert Aldrich writes that he liked hot climates and "The masculine company of young officers".
Lyautey's wife is said to have told a group of her husband's young officers that
"I have the pleasure of informing you
that last night I made you all cuckolds."
She was implying that the officers were all paramours of her husband, and that she had had sex with Lyautey the night before.
Lyautey's homosexuality, or at the very least his "homophile sensuality" or "Greek virtues", was in some ways connected with his time in Morocco. Lyautey's sexual preference for men was not caused by his sojourn in Morocco, as there were those who objected to his appointment as commander there because he was a homosexual.
The Death of Hubert Lyautey
Hubert died at the age of 79 on the 27th. July 1934 in Thorey, French Republic. He was initially laid to rest in Morocco and re-interred in 1961 in Les Invalides in Paris.
American postcard by Kline Poster Co.
Antonio 'Tony' Moreno (1887-1967) was a Spanish-born American actor and film director of the silent film era and through the 1950s. In his early films, Moreno was often typecast as the suave, smouldering 'Latin Lover' and was seen as a serious rival to Rudolph Valentino. He was equally adept at romance, melodrama or comedy and is best known for films such as The Spanish Dancer (1923) with Pola Negri, Mare Nostrum (1926) with Alice Terry, The Temptress (1926) with Greta Garbo, and It (1927) with Clara Bow.
Antonio Moreno was born Antonio Garrido Monteagudo in Madrid in 1887. He came to America at the age of fourteen. Although he claimed to have attended Williston Northampton School in Easthampton, Massachusetts, the school's archives have no record of his having done so. His working life began as an employee of the Northhampton Electric Light and Gas Company. He first acted on stage under the tutelage of Maude Adams whose theatre he had initially visited in order to fix the lighting. From the repertory stage in Massachusetts, he then made his way to Hollywood where he arrived in 1912. Having made his film debut in The Voice of the Millions (Stanner E.V. Taylor, 1912) at Rex-Universal, Moreno then featured as a top draw card for Vitagraph until 1921. In 1914 Moreno appeared in major films such as Judith of Bethulia (D.W. Griffith, 1914), The Dust of Egypt (George D. Baker, 1915), and John Rance, Gentleman (Van Dyke Brooke, 1914) with Norma Talmadge. Within a short time, he became a star through his appearances opposite Talmadge. Alongside Ramón Novarro and above all Rudolph Valentino, Moreno rose to become one of the most popular Latin lovers of the silent film era because of his southern good looks. In the process, he acquired a large female fan base. He proudly held the sobriquet "King of the Cliff-hangers" because of his prolific work in serials as co-star to Pearl White. In the early 1920s, Moreno joined the cinema company Cineplex Entertainment and became one of its highest-paid performers. The pinnacle of his career came a few years later under contract to Famous Players Lasky/Paramount (from 1923 to 1924) and at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (in 1926). His film partners included Bebe Daniels in the Broadway comedy The Exciters (Maurice Campbell, 1923), Pola Negri in The Spanish Dancer (Herbert Brenon, 1923), Greta Garbo in The Temptress (Fred Niblo, Mauritz Stiller, 1926) and Clara Bow in It (Clarence G. Badger, 1927). The comedy It in particular was a huge box office success and featured Moreno as a department store heir who turns the heads of all the shop assistants.
In the 1920s, Antonio Moreno was one of the highest-paid actors in Hollywood. With the advent of sound pictures, his career suffered a sharp decline, in no small measure due to a heavy Spanish accent. He made only a few films in Hollywood during this period and instead worked increasingly in Mexican productions. During the early 1930s, he also directed several films there, such as the first Mexican sound film Santa (Antonio Moreno, 1932) and the drama Águilas frente al sol/Eagles across the Sun (Antonio Moreno, 1932). Moreno tried to rebuild his Hollywood career as early as the 1930s, including an appearance in the Laurel and Hardy film The Bohemian Girl (James W. Horne, Charley Rogers, 1936) where his character has an affair with Oliver Hardy's wife. But it wasn't until the mid-1940s that he returned to better roles in American film, including as a character actor in The Captain of Castile (Henry King, 1947) starring Tyrone Power. In 1954, the veteran star took the lead role in the cheaply produced horror film Creature from the Black Lagoon (Jack Arnold, 1954), which became a cult classic over the years. His last significant appearance was in John Ford's Western epic The Searchers (John Ford, 1956), where he played a Mexican who showed John Wayne and Jeffrey Hunter the way to an Indian chief. Nonetheless, he eventually segued into character parts and remained gainfully employed in the industry until the late 1950s. He was awarded a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6651 Hollywood Boulevard in Hollywood, California in 1960. Moreno was married in 1923 to Daisy Danziger, the daughter of an oil millionaire. Their lavish mansion, called 'Paramour', was one of the largest in Hollywood and the site of many famous parties. Ten years later, Daisy died in 1933 in a tragic car crash near Mulholland Drive. Antonio Moreno passed away in 1967 in Beverly Hills. Following his death from heart failure, he was interred at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.
Sources: I.S. Mowis (IMDb), Wikipedia (German and English) and IMDb,
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
Go-Go for a wild ride with the action girls! Russ Meyer, the king of exploitation, directs this lurid thrill-ride starring Tura Satana, Haji, and Lori Williams as a trio of dancers who turn to murder and mayhem on a road trip from hell. Varla is well-endowed, beautiful, physically powerful, savvy and conniving. She lives for kicks, but she's also got a serious mad on for the world, and anyone who crosses her finds out the hard way. Her job as a go-go dancer, supplemented by a part time career in petty crime has afforded her a sleek and fast sports car, which she enjoys riding in the desert with her fellow dancers. One of them, Rosie, has a crush on Varla, which she happily encourages, even if Varla is really more interested in the control it gives her over Rosie than in Rosie herself. The other dancer, Billie, is a little harder for Varla to manage, but Billie isn't bright enough to outmaneuver Varla.
When the little gang run into a square drag racer, he winds up getting into a fight with Varla, losing of course. Varla makes sure he never talks back again, then kidnaps his girlfriend and makes a run for it. BIllie and Rosie tag along, and they soon become involved in intrigue with an old letch in the desert rumored to have a stash of cash hidden away somewhere. When Varla starts to lose control of the situation, things (again) become violent, leading to a revved-up climax! Three strippers seeking thrills encounter a young couple in the desert. After dispatching the boyfriend, they take the girl hostage and begin scheming on a crippled old man living with his two sons in the desert, reputedly hiding a tidy sum of cash. They become houseguests of the old man and try and seduce the sons in an attempt to locate the money, not realizing that the old man has a few sinister intentions of his own.
synopsis
Exploitation maven Russ Meyer created a cult classic with this turbo-charged action film. Three curvaceous go-go dancers in a cool sports car go on a desert crime spree, led by Varla (the amazing Tura Satana), a busty, nasty woman dressed entirely in black. Varla's lesbian moll, Rosie (Haji) -- who has an extremely overwrought accent -- and reluctant bimbo Billie (Lori Williams) are along for the ride. When they meet a naïve young couple, Tommy and Linda (Ray Barlow and Sue Bernard), Varla challenges the man to a race then kills him by breaking his back. They take Linda hostage and drive to a house owned by a crippled old lecher (Stuart Lancaster) and his muscular but retarded son, Vegetable (Dennis Busch). Varla discovers that the old man has money hidden on the property, so the girls try to find it. Meanwhile, Vegetable's perverted father tries to trick him into assaulting one of the girls as he watches, but his other son (Paul Trinka) finally shows up to save the day. A great deal of bloodshed, campy catfighting, and funny dialogue fills the bulk of this fast-paced comic book of a movie.
Born 1946 Quebec,Canada
Passed on 2013
Birth Name - Barbarella Catton Nickname - Haji
Haji was a Cando-American actress renowned for starring in Russ Meyer's sexploitation classic Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965), in which she made her theatrical film debut. Barbarella Catton was born in Quebec City, Quebec on January 24, 1946, and at the age of 14, began dancing topless. The renamed Haji caught the eye of cinema's "King Leer" while performing as an exotic dancer.
He also cast her as one of three go-go dancers who turn into avenging furies in "Pussycat", which was her theatrical film debut as it was released before Motor Psycho (1965). She also appeared in Meyer's potboiler Good Morning... and Goodbye! (1967), his big budget Hollywood sextravaganza Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), and his cartoonish amalgamation of sex and violence, Supervixens (1975).
Haji died on August 10, 2013 at the age of 67.
Was a fervent supporter of animal rights and environmentalism. Interviewed in the book "Invasion of the B-Girls" by Jewel Shepard. Began as an exotic dancer. Moved to California at the age of fourteen and was discovered by filmmaker Russ Meyer performing in a topless bar. Her only child, a daughter she had at age 15, is named Cerlette. Haji was of British and Filipino descent, and her nickname was bestowed on her by an uncle. Was a friend and co-star of former stripper and long-time Russ Meyer paramour Kitten Natividad.
Haji, an Actress Featured in Cult Films by Russ Meyer, Dies at 67
By DANIEL E. SLOTNIK
Published: August 17, 2013
Haji, a voluptuous actress who played one of three homicidal go-go dancers in Russ Meyer’s 1965 cult film “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!,” died on Aug. 9 in Southern California. She was 67.
Her death was confirmed by the dancer and actress Kitten Natividad, a friend, who said she did not know the cause. She said Haji had high blood pressure and heart problems in recent years and was taken to a hospital after falling ill at a restaurant in Newport Beach.Haji, a brunette of Filipino and British descent, met Meyer, the celebrated B-movie director, in the mid-1960s while she worked in a strip club in California. He cast her as the lead in his biker movie “Motorpsycho” (1965) even though she had no acting experience.Later that year Haji appeared in “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!,” the tale of three dancers who beat a young man to death, kidnap his girlfriend and flee into the desert. She played the lesbian paramour of the lead character, Varla, played by Tura Satana. The film has acquired a devoted following and has been embraced by the filmmakers John Waters and Quentin Tarantino and even some feminists, including the film critic B. Ruby Rich, who praised it in The Village Voice as a “female fantasy.”“You just didn’t see women taking over and beating up men in those days,” Haji said in an interview posted on Russ Meyer’s Ultravixens, a Web site devoted to Meyer, who died in 2004, and his films. “Russ did something no one else had the imagination to do. And he was smart to use three bodied-up women, so whether the picture’s good or not, you still sort of stare at it.”Haji played a scantily clad bartender in Meyer’s “Supervixens” in 1975 and appeared in “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls,” the story of an all-woman rock band’s descent into debauchery. It was the first of Meyer’s films produced by a mainstream studio. She also acted in John Cassavetes’s gritty drama “The Killing of a Chinese Bookie” in 1976.
Haji was born in Quebec on Jan. 24, 1946. Ms. Natividad said that Haji’s last name at birth was Catton, and that she thought her given name was Cerlette. (The name Haji, she said, was a nickname given to her by an uncle.) Haji left school before finishing the sixth grade and began stripping at 14. She had a daughter, also named Cerlette, at 15. She lived in Oxnard, Calif. Her survivors include her daughter and a granddaughter. Haji’s last screen role was in the 2003 comedy “Killer Drag Queens on Dope.”
www.nytimes.com/2013/08/18/arts/haji-an-actress-featured-...;
“If I die young bury me in satin” Samantha just could not keep from playing that song in her head.
******************************
Lyrics to the sonnet appear after the story
************************
Samantha shook her head to clear her mind. Here she was on a deadly serious operation and a silly old song was all she could think about. She should have worn velvet tonight, she reasoned without any logic.
This was her third attempt out undercover. The only nibble so far had been a two bit second rate mugger on their first attempt. Sam remembered the look in his drooling eyes, he had figured that he had hit the jackpot as he forced, at knifepoint, Samantha to hand over her pricy jewels. Boy was he surprised when Sam’s team paid his seedy apartment a visit a few hours later as he was celebrating his good fortune with his cronies. Then she heard it….
Suddenly, all thoughts of songs and adolescencent punks were driven from her mind. Sam’s sixth sense was tingling; she had picked up a follower. She had heard him in the woods one the other side of the deserted lane. He was good, she hadn’t been aware of being followed until the muffled snap of a twig reached her ears. She shivered deliciously, come to momma she said to herself, not giving any outward sign that she had heard…….
**
The unknown assailant That Sam was trying to lure had been making a practice of preying on wealthy, unchaperoned women. Carefully selecting his victims based solely on the jewels they were exhibiting. Following them home as they left the upper class parties they were attending. He would then ambush them, tying up the hapless victim, then looting the house of anything small, but valuable, including whatever jewelry could be found on his bound, usually wriggling victim.
His fifth target had been taken a month ago on Halloween night. She had been a blonde mistress of a titled junior minister, who had set her up in his summer cottage, which overlooked the channel. She had been seized, bound, gagged and robbed inside the small cottage. In her struggles against her bindings she had choked to death. That had made it murder. That made it Sam’s problem. With the heat being put on by the junior minister Sam had been given carte blanche. But, by the manner with which Sir Mister ” junior” minister had been squawking, one would assume he was more concerned over the jewels that had been nicked than the untimely demise of his sexy young paramour!. The vain prig probably already had another one lined up and installed at the small cottage, waiting to be adorned with the jewels once they had been recovered Sam figured wryly. But, an assignment was an assignment no matter what her feelings were about the matter. So, Sam had assembled her team, supplied them with the very latest in technology, and had gone hunting him down.
Sam had felt a bit James Bondish wearing jewels with an array of tracking devices carefully hidden in amongst the tiffany quality Gems. Her rented cottage, an old keep for a bygone ancient castle, was also outfitted with ultra-sensitive listening devices. Her team could track every move and hear every word spoken as Sam was out on her prowl.
**
And now she was being carefully followed. Instinctively she knew that whomever it was, it wasn’t a two bit hood this time. Another twig snapped, closer and, Sam thought, deliberate. She turned around to look, hand to mouth, in all appearances she was the slightly drunk and vulnerable, wealthy brunette that was her role on this case . But, unnoticeably, on the inside, Samantha ‘s whole demeanor changed, becoming cold and alert, Knowing it was her job to bring this piece of venom to justice. Bring it on she thought to herself, hoping this was the one. Then she turned and made her way to the keep, her senses prickling….
***********************************************************************
"If I Die Young"
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh, uh oh
Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh,
And life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had just enough time
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had just enough time
And I'll be wearing white, when I come into your kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,
I've never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand,
There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever,
Who would have thought forever could be severed by...
...the sharp knife of a short life, oh well?
I've had just enough time
So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls
What I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts, oh, no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin'
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin'
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh (uh, oh)
The ballad of a dove (oh, uh)
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had just enough time
So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls.
*******************************************************************
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************