Mercuriosities

Street fighting tries to be fair in the face of overwhelming disparities : if a one-legged man fights a two-legged man, how do you bring about a level of equality to make the fight fair ? And was there any dough to be won ? Read on.

‘On Wednesday the 26th ult. a pugilistic contest, rather of a novel nature, took place at Bingham between a disciple of Esculapius, and a baker, both of that town : a great deal of chaffing took place as to the disadvantage the latter laboured under, the doctor being a biped, whilst the dusty knight was minus a leg : the dispute was, whether the contest should be carried on up and down (a-la-Lancashire), sitting, or be a stand-up fight : the last mode was determined upon ; and in order to bring things to an equality as nearly as might be, the knight of the lancet agreed to have a leg tied up. These preliminaries being settled, after peeling, they hopped to the scratch, and a furious set-to commenced : the baker’s oven waxing warm, set the yeast in his batch into such a state of fermentation, that being off his guard, his antagonist administered some bitter pills, let him blood pretty freely, and hammered away with nature’s pestles as though he had been braying in a mortar : but the crusty veteran’s choler abating, he, in his turn, kneaded his opponent’s dough in such a manner, that he reluctantly cried out “enough,” and the man of meal, crowned with bays, was carried off the field with all the uproarious eclat possible.’

Stamford Mercury, 4th April, 1828.

Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were married on 10th February, 1840. This is a fascinating insight into their life at Buckingham palace.

‘The following important article of information appears in a daily journal: The Queen is an early riser, seldom being in bed later than half past seven, except on the mornings after her state balls, or on those few occasions when she honors the parties of the nobility with her presence. Her bell is rung about 8 o’clock for her “dressers,” and by nine her Majesty, her Royal Consort, and the household, are at breakfast. The time occupied at the meal is about half an hour, when her Majesty, if the weather permit, enoys the air in the pleasure garden attached to Buckingham palace. This garden covers a space of about forty acres. Here the Queen frequently remains an hour and is accompanied by the latter, etiquette prescribes that, except by invitation, the ladies and gentlemen in attendance should walk at a “respectful distance.” Upon her Majesty’s return to the palace she is attended by her secretary, when she affixes her signature to the various documents which acquire their validity by it. These comprise treasury and other warrants, the commissions of militaty officers, state papers, &co., and they are frequently so numerous that it has sometimes required more than two hours to get through the business. The Queen passes the time between one and three either in conversation, reading, painting or music. In these two accomplishments her Majesty is eminently proficient: her drawings are much admired, and her love for music is well known: she is excellent both as an instrumental and vocal performer. There are three grand pianofortes in the suite of three drawing-rooms usually inhabited, but that which is especailly her Majesty’s, and which is only touched by her fingers, is magnificent: it is rosewood, inlaid with gold and vignette pictures, and cost 1,500 guineas. Luncheon is served at three; after which the Queen receives the Cabinet Miniters, and other such persons as it is usual to honor with audiences. At five the royal cortége leaves the palace and proceeds through the park, &co., and generally returns about seven or quarter after. Dinner is generally served at a quarter before eight, except on opera nights, when it is a little earlier. The usual number of persons who dine at the royal table is about 30. The Queen never fails to be present, except upon the nights of a ball either at the palace or elsewhere: on those occasions her Majesty dines in her own suite of apartments. The Queen, who occupies the centre seat of the dinner-table remains from an hour and five minutes to an hour and a quarter: her rising is the signal for the ladies to move after her, and in a short time subsequently to this move, the gentlemen follow. During dinner-time the band of one of the regiments of guards generally attend: the musicians are placed in a situation above the ceiling of the apartment; they are separated from the royal party by large panes of ground glass, which mellow the sound, and prevent the musicians from seeing into the dining apartment. Tea and coffee are served immediately after dinner, in a small room leading from one of the drawing-rooms. The reminder of the evening is passed with music and conversation, in both of which the Queen and Prince Albert take a part, and about half past eleven her Majesty retires to her apartments, which are in the immediate vicinity of the drawing-rooms, and with which there is a communication by means of a door that is ordinarily concealed by a cabinet. This cabinet is on rollers, and it is, when her Majesty expresses a desire to retire, immediately rolled sufficiently far away to enable the door to be opened, and is replaced again as soon as she has quitted the apartment.’

The Stamford Mercury, 18th September, 1840.

Celtic gold is unearthed quite regularly in the UK. However, irrespective of who found the treasure trove the Queen owned it all. In 1996, a new law redefined treasure and what must be done with it.

‘Extraordinary Discovery of Gold.–On Friday Mr. Kell, coroner for the Rape of Hastings, held an inquest “touching the finding and discovery of certain bars and pieces of gold,” in the parish of Mantfield, in East Sussex. Mr. Reynolds, solicitor to the Treasury, was present to watch the inquiry on the part of the Crown, and Mr. W. Savery on the part of two persons supposed to be interested. At the inquest, which lasted five hours, it was elicited that on the 12th of January last, William Butchers, a labourer, whilst ploughing, turned up what he took to be a quantity of old brass, connected by a series of rings or links, and extending about a yard in length. Each link was about an inch and a half long, and an inch wide. Butchers, on weighing it, found that it was a little over eleven pounds, and he sold it as old brass to a man named Silas Thomas for 3s. Thomas, in his turn, sold it to his brother-in-law, Stephen Willett, a cab-driver at Hastings, but who had at one time been a Californian gold-digger, and at once recognised the metal as solid gold. Shortly afterwards suspicion was excited from the fact that both Willett and Thomas appeared suddenly to have become possessed of a large supply of money, and the police were induced to institute inquiries in the matter. The result was that Willett was taken into custody, but afterwards discharged, on the ground that the Magistrates had no jurisdiction, and that an inquest before the coroner was necessary. In the meantime her Majesty’s Treasury, on being apprised of the discovery, directed an investigation to be made, when it was ascertained that Thomas and Willett had taken 300l. to the bank at Hastings, and opened an account there ; and by tracing back the notes it was found that a cheque had been given to Willett by Messrs. Brown, the gold refiners in Cheapside, in payment of a sum of 529l. for 123 ounces of solid gold. The jury, at the close of the inquest, returned a verdict to the effect that the gold so singularly discovered was the property of the Queen, and that Butchers, Thomas, and Willett concealed the finding of the same ; and it is understood that ulterior proceedings will be taken against the latter. It is believed that the bars of gold had lain in the field for nearly two thousand years, and that they were ornaments worn by the ancient Celtic Kings.’

Stamford Mercury, 3 April, 1863.

Three Tuns Public House was the cause of rivers of blood appearing in Brownlow Terrace, after three men were ejected from the pub to fight almost to the death, while the pub landlord stood quietly watching.

‘Three men, who appeared to be strangers, were drinking in the Three Tuns public-house, in Saint Leonard’s-street, on Monday evening last, and becoming quarrelsome they were turned out by the landlord to fight it out in front of Brownlow-terrace, where a most savage and brutal fight took place. After using their fists recourse was had to kicking each other in the most terrific manner about the legs and lower parts of the body ; then they fought with sticks and stones, knocking each other’s head against the wall and kerb stones until blood was scattered from one end of the Terrace to the other. The whole street was thrown into a terrible state of alarm, the bystanders expecting every moment that one of them must be murdered. Children and women were screaming and others fainting, and ineffectual efforts were made by some of the inhabitants of the Terrace to separate them, while the landlord of the Tuns stood quietly looking on at his door with his hands in his pockets. This house is said to be one of the greatest nuisances in the town.’

Stamford Mercury, 20 March, 1863.

In contrast with the horrendous weather in last week’s post,there were also mild Decembers, more like Spring.

“Such a Christmas day a Monday, in point of temperature, has been rarely (if ever) known, with the thermometer at 60, a southern breeze, and sunshine, rather resembling May than December.”

The Stamford Mercury, 29th December, 1837.

“The present season, as compared with the severe winter of last year, offers perhaps a striking contrast as could be produced from any page of the annals of our chageful climate. Last year, look wherever we would, we met the frowning and chilling evidences of the universal dominion of frost and snow. Nowe, it is true, the forest trees are naked, but our shrubberies are as luxuriant and flourishing as in sommer, while the roses, sotkc, polyanthuses, rosemary, &c., still look gay in the garden. The hills and fields are full of interest for the Botanist. One would almost imagine that Spring, born before due time, was lifting her infnat voice to call back Autumn, that they might together banish the rugged Winter – for the plants of both seasons are thickly scattered amidst the rant and verdant grasses. Aged-looking buttercups (we call them by the name that brings back happy chilehood, and eschew the harsh names of science) are actually found surrounded by new daisies, opening their beautiful begemmed faces upon us wherever we tread, The large crimson thistle still lingers, and on the same ground the new buds of the bright yellow furze are unfolding into blossom. The small plants common to each season, – the primrose, the groundel, the white and red archangel, the chickweed, and the dandelion, – are rank by every hedgerow where these is any shelton. The lichens are, in general, rotted with the wet, but nothing can equal the velvety beauty of the mosses, to which the birds resort to pick their insect food: in gact,. so plentiful is the ground food of the feathered tribe, that the red fruit of the hawthorn and dog-rose remains on the bushes almost untouched.”

The Stamford Mercury, 5th January, 1838.

Today we are still inconvenienced by snow and bad weather, but we generally have reliable cars and warm houses – and we are not so totally reliant on mail. A few days after this story was published there was even an avalanche at Lewes in Sussex.

“It is 23 years since there was any thing like the downfall of snow with which this part of England has been visited in the present week. The effect has been to prevent all travelling; and even persons who happened to be from home on business, found for a day or two that it was impossible to quit the places where they were overtaken by the storm, although the distance which they had to go to their families was only three or four miles: such was actually the case with several persons who were in Stamford on Sunday and Monday: even on foot, and with the utmost contrivance and knowledge of roads, in some dirctions it was impossible to make way from town to town. – The firt sign of the great extent and inconvenince of the downfall was perceived at Stamford on Sunday night, when the mail from Melton Mowbray did not arrive as usual; it left Stamford that morning, but it did not return from Melton, nor has any mail been dispatched hence in that direction since Sunday. On Monday morning there was neither Edinburgh nor Glasgow mail from London: after being greatly delayed in the South, they finally stuck fast between Wansford and Thornhaugh, six miles from Stamford; and it was not until one o’clock on Tuesday afternoon that the guards of the coaches which should have reached us at half-past 5 o’clock on Monday morning were able to come to Stamford on horseback through the snow. The coaches still remained embedded in the drifted mass which covered the road to a depth of six or eight feet near Wansford. The mails from the North were set fast at Colsterworth and at Horn-lane, where they also continued for many hours; but the guards, on horseback, reached Stamford on Tuesday at nearly the same time as those from the South, and they proceeded in the same way on their respective routes with the mail-bags. The mail coach from Edinburgh which should have been here on Monday night, was dragged into Stamford on Tuesday afternoon by eight waggon horses, and stopped here. The business of the posts on the Great North Road could be transacted only on horseback, and in this way for three days we have received the mail-bags: but the bags themselves in general contained little, showing that the interruption on the roads was almost general, and that there was no communication whatever between Lincolnshire and the great road at Stilton. We learned, indeed, to our great concern, that the Lincoln and Hull, and the Boston and Louth lines of the road, were alike impassable on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and that the post communication by them was suspended.

The interruption which the mail-coaches experienced, was of course common to all other coaches. For three days no conveyances were sent out from Stamford for Cambridge, Leicester, or Boston, as none arrived from those quarters.

The situation of the passengers by some of the coaches which were set fast in the snow, was most trying and singular. When, after a tedious journey, one poor fellow who had been outside the Glasgow mail for two days and nights, found the coach come to a dead stand near Horn-lane, six miles North of Stamford, he got into the vehicle and slept soundly for five hours, until the snow could be dug away and a team of waggon horses arrived to extricate the coach. The whole company of one coach, set fast between Wansford and Stilton, found an asylum at Mr. Simpson’s at Morborne, where they were received with all the kind-hearted hospitality for which the late coach-owner and landlord of the George and Angel at Stamford is so well known.

About 50 extra labourers have been employed for four days in clearing the hill at Casterton, and many at Horn-lane, Whittering and Wansford at an expenditure of 25l. to 30l. per day, by Mr. Haycock, the surveyor of the turnpikes.”

The Stamford Mercury, 30th December, 1836.

Everywhere seems to have its own Christmas custom the origins of which go back into the mists of time. Here are two of them.

“There is at Queen’s College, Oxford, a custom observed on every Christmas-day of decorating a boar’s head with holly, &c., and carrying it into the hall in procession, accompanied with the singing of an ancient song. On this occasion the public are admitted to view the ceremony, and the hall presents an animated appearance. There is a tradition as to the origin of this custom, which is, that as a member of Queen’s college was walking in Shotover Forest, reading Artistotle, he was attacked by a wild boar: the youth with great composure and resolution thrust the volume into the animal’s throat and choaked him, crying out at the same time ‘Graecum est.’* Another custom at this college is, that the Bursar on New-year’s-day present each member with a needle and thread, addressing to him these words, ‘Take this to be thrifty.'”

The Stamford Mercury, 28th December, 1838.

*It’s greek to me.

“The inhabitants of the small but important village of Rothwell, near Caistor, have at this very interesting season, according to ancient custome, provided their families with a large bacon pig, weighing from 20 to 40 stones: in about five days, 170 stones of these animals have ornamented their larders, and at this time a profusion of pork and mince pies, sausages, spareribs, &c., are generously bestowed among their bairns and ‘auld acquaintance,’ with a good ‘pint soup’, to wash all down. We are glad to record these good doings, and the hospitality of the inhabitants, as a set-off against the complaining in our streets about the price of flour, and the probability of a war with Russia; and to show that, in the good old town of Rothwell, an example is afforded to all persons of industry and contentedness, which it is hoped will induce others to be alike happy in themselves and pleased with one another.”

The Stamford Mercury, 28th December, 1838.

The Bluecoat School had a new master who proved to be a excellent choice. (It sounds as though the previous master had not been!) Notice that ‘children’ meant ‘boys’! It was not until the Education Actof 1870 that it became a requirement for both girls and boys to receive an elementary education.

“An examination of the children in the Bluecoat School of Stamford took place at the new school room on Saturday last, and was attended by the Trustees of Charities, and by several ladies and gentlemen of the town, all of whom were highly delighted, and even astonished, at the progress made by the boys in reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography, in the three months that they have been under the tuition of Mr. Green, the new master. The warmest encomiums* were passed on that gentlemen, and all acknowledged that a fitter person for the situation could not possibly have been found. On Christmas-day the boys, in their new cloathing#, attended divine service at St. Michael’s church, where the neatness of their appearance and their orderly behaviour excited general notice and approbation. Afterwards they were regaled with an excellent dinner at the school, and sang the national anthem and appropriate hymns in a style which delighted a numerous party of visitors who had been attracted by the high reputation of the school. The change in the management is proved to be one of the greatest blessings that ever occurred to the town; and the advantage is likely to be greatly extended, as the Charity Trustees propose to nearly double the number of scholars in the ensuing half-year.”

The Stamford Mercury, 28th December, 1838.

*A speech or letter praising someone or thing highly.

#Their coats were blue – a colour denoting charity.

The Lincolnshire Stuff Ball was initiated to encourage and promote the local manufactory and industry of the fabric known as Lincolnshire Stuff, which was made from the wool of Lincolnshire Longwool sheep, an important breed in the county. The rules for the balls stipulated that only Lincolnshire Stuff made from Lincolnshire wool that had been manufactured and dyed in the county could be worn, except gentlemen could wear silk stockings.  The first ball was held in 1785 at The Windmill Inn, Alford, Lincolnshire. By the end of the decade, owing to its popularity, it had moved to the County Assembly Rooms in Lincoln, but by the end of the nineteenth century the rules regarding wearing Lincolnshire Stuff had been abandoned in favour of much lighter fabrics, such as muslin. During the 20th century the tradition gradually lapsed.

"LINCOLNSHIRE STUFF BALL.
THE ANNUAL BALL and SUPPER will be held, in the COUNTY-ROOMS at LINCOLN, on TUESDAY the 28th OCTOBER, 1828.
Lady Patroness, Mrs. BOUCHERETT.
Stewards,
The HIGH SHERIFF, CHARLES WINN, Esq.
Sir EDWARD FFRENCH BROMHEAD, Bart.

Tickets, 10s. 6d. each may be had of Mr. DRURY, Post-office, Lincoln ; or from Mr. J. GRESHAM, opposite the White Hart Inn, Lincoln ; and it is particularly requested that they may be previously procured, in order to facilitate the entrance of the company.

Ladies are not expected to appear in Stuff as formerly : they are requested by the Patroness to adopt Ponceau as the prevailing colour in the Dress and Trimmings.–A specimen of the exact colour may be seen at Mrs. TURNER’S, milliner, High-street, Lincoln.

Our readers will perceive by advertisements in another page, that the Stuff Ball is fixed for the 28th inst. This annual meeting may be considered as the only full assemblage of the rank and fashion of the county, and is usually attended by many families of distinction from the neighbouring counties. The use of the stuff is now avowedly discontinued : it was latterly very little worn, and was never of the smallest effect towards its ostensible purpose. The ball in its present form, has become a species of fancy ball, and is in its effect highly pleasing, the colour fixed upon appearing under every variety of dress, material, and ornament ; some adopting the entire dress, and others using it only in the trimmings. The colour of the present year is, we understand, a kind of rich geranium scarlet, the exact shade of which may be ascertained, if thought necessary.”

Stamford Mercury, 10th October 1828.

In 1828 the plan for the diversion of the Great North Road in Stamford, so as to avoid the narrow bridge, steep hill and sharp turns, was considered an excellent idea by some. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately!), it was never carried out – some things don’t change. Eventually the Stamford bypass was constructed.

‘At a meeting of the Commissioners of the South division of the road between Stamford and Grantham, in this town on the 18th inst., some discussion arose on the best means of remedying the present dangers and defects of the road through Stamford. It was strongly recommended that the road should enter St. Martin’s, from the south, a few yards West of the present street ; pass at the back of the George Inn, over a new bridge there, and over a second bridge (in the situation of the present Lamb’s bridge), to the sheep market ; and that from that point the road should be continued straight forward, through premises which now form the Millstone public-house, into the line of the present road at All Saints’ Church. This excellent plan would completely obviate all the objections made to the narrow bridge, steep hill, and sudden turns of the road as it now exists, and it is calculated that the whole improvement might be made for 5000l.’

The Stamford Mercury, 26th December, 1828.