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2010:

Busy Skies over Tarrant Rushton

The highways and byways trailing through the Tarrant Valley are quiet and peaceful. They serve to link the Tarrant villages and hamlets of Hinton, Gunville, Launceston, Monkton, Rowston, Rushton, Keyneston and Crawford that stretch along the route of the pretty valley stream: it has been this way for centuries. But 70 years ago the necessities of war disturbed this tranquil scene.

In May 1942 work commenced on the building of an airfield at Tarrant Rushton. So urgently was it needed flying operations begun even before it had been completed and continued until 1945. The 300-acre site became home to hundreds of airmen from Britain and Commonwealth countries and their support staff all contributing to the defence of Britain and the battle for freedom in Europe.

Halifax and Stirling bombers left Tarrant Rushton on sorties stretching far into the skies over occupied Europe. Glider pilots were trained here: for these men there was no ride home; it must have taken a special kind of courage. The Glider Pilot Regiment despatched its huge Hamilcar and Horsa gliders from here full of equipment, some destined for French Resistance fighters and on occasions they would quietly drop secret agents from the Special Operations Executive deep into enemy territory.

Men and women of great courage – heroes and heroines – passed through this place.

The main runway at Tarrant Rushton was over a mile in length and able to service the enormous Hamilcar glider. This aircraft could carry a seven-ton tank and still have room for guns and ammunition needed by our forces in Europe: Halifax bombers towed them.

Constructed on an area of flat and windy agricultural land 300 feet above the Tarrant Valley it was an ideal site for an airfield. The 18th century Crook Farm was lost to the project. The construction statistics are staggering. The endeavour meant laying twenty miles of drains, a six mile water main, ten miles of extra roads and ten miles of conduit and in difficult times half a million tonnes of concrete, over thirty thousand square yards of tarmac and four million bricks were used.

This massive enterprise employed workers from the Irish Free State and involved building three runways, concrete hard standings for fifty aircraft, a four-mile perimeter road, accommodation for 3,000 personnel, hangers and a control tower, and it was all completed in under a year.

Flying operations at Tarrant Rushton Airfield – call sign ‘Cheekbone’ – and known as the “secret airfield” because of all the undercover work it did, were led by Squadron Leader Joe Soper and a team of officers, airmen and WAAF’s working from the control tower.

Aircraft from Tarrant Rushton played an important role on D-Day. The first of the six glider-borne troops set off at 2300 hours on June 5th and a few minutes into June 6th 1944 landed the very first Allied troops in Normandy. Tarrant Rushton’s 298 and 644 squadrons flew 2,284 missions into occupied Europe between April 1944 and May 1945.

After the Victory in Europe the airfield was stood down but before it could become derelict it was taken over in June 1948 by the commercial business ‘Flight Refuelling’ who stayed for 30-years.

The airfield was quickly back in the thick of things when ‘Flight Refuelling’ became involved in the Berlin Airlift between July 1948 and August 1949 when they flew over 4,000 sorties using Lancastrians and Lancasters. The airfield went on to welcome more modern aircraft including Meteors and F-84’s visiting to be adapted for in-flight refuelling.

The airfield was officially closed on the 30th of September 1980 and the Tarrant villages returned to the quiet unhurried lifestyle they have enjoyed over the centuries.

Abbotsbury – A Perfect Day Out

Where better to start a day out at Abbotsbury than at the top of Abbotsbury Hill. From this vantage-point you can enjoy breath-taking views of the Dorset coastline, but to do so safely use one of the lay-bys provided. To the west you can see over Lyme Bay and it is said that on a fine day the view is clear to Start Point, off Plymouth. The view to the east is over The Fleet Lagoon with Chesil Beach stretching across the vista to the Island of Portland. In the foreground, sitting on a hill and from here easily mistaken as nothing more than a lookout point, is St. Catherine’s chapel. This is the first of many glimpses of the chapel you will enjoy during the day.

Before descending to the village cross over the road and take a walk around Abbotsbury Castle. This is an Iron Age hill-fort on the brow of Wears Hill on the edge of the hills to the north of Abbotsbury known as the Ridgeway. The hill-fort has double ramparts, which enclose an area of about 4 acres; the whole site covers about 10 acres. The fort is seven miles from Maiden Castle and five miles from the hillfort of Eggardon.

Down in the village you will find a choice of places offering food and drink. Tuck in and enjoy, forget the calorie count; there is still lots to see and places to visit, and any surplus energy you have you will need for the final climb of the day. In the village you are spoilt by a variety of shops offering all manner of interesting goods from the usual tourist bric-a-brac to some excellent work offered to you directly by local craftsmen and artists.

As you walk through the village feast your eyes on the cottages: many date back to the 16th century or earlier. Strict planning and conservation regulations ensure they remain much as they were.

The Church of St. Nicholas is well worth a visit. It is mainly 15th century, but was rebuilt in the 16th century and restored in 1885. There is a fine embattled tower with six bells. During the Civil War the church was defended for the King, and in the Jacobean pulpit there are two-bullet holes, evidence of the conflict.

 Standing in the porch is an effigy in Purbeck marble, (actually a grave slab from the earlier Abbey church) of a late 12th century abbot. The 15th century stained-glasswork is a notable feature of this church and the panes in the north and south aisle windows are noted for their subtlety of colour. Of special interest is the second window in the south aisle which shows the delicate face of a woman thought by some to represent St. Catherine, but is more likely to be the Virgin Mary from a Crucifixion window.

A few steps through the churchyard will bring you to the site where the Abbey of St. Peter stood. From here there is another view of St. Catherine’s Chapel. Of the Abbey little remains to be seen: only one wall and the entrance arch remain standing. Sir Giles Strangeways bought the Abbey, its lands and holdings in the 16th century just four years after he had been the commissioner appointed by Henry VIII to negotiate the surrender of the monastery. A caveat on the sale to Sir Giles dictated that the Abbey was to be demolished and there is no doubting that the condition was honoured. English Heritage has placed an information board here and it includes an artist’s impression of how the Abbey would have looked before it was destroyed. You may think the destruction a terrible sacrilege.

A couple of hundred yards away we can see the Abbey Barn and this will be of great interest to any children who may be accompanying their parents. Nowadays it is home to a menagerie of friendly farm animals and many of these, including the goats, can be stroked and fed at regular times thoughout the day; ideal for under 11’s. Toy tractor racing and pony rides are to be enjoyed. And there is more to keep the children occupied: inside the ‘Smugglers Barn’ there is an undercover play area including an interactive educational play area on two floors inside the reconstructed hulls of a smugglers lugger and revenue cutter from the 18th century.

The Abbey Barn dates from the 14th century and being 272 feet in length is one of the largest barns in England. The timber and thatched roof is much later.

Abbotsbury is most famous for its swannery: it is just down the lane from the Abbey Barn. These amazing creatures freely choose to be here and in no way are they confined to the place. Surprisingly they will allow you to wander amongst them and you can see them at close quarters, nesting and looking after their young. The swannery is home to as many as 1000 birds.

Established in 1393 by the Benedictine monks at the Abbey it is a largely artificial pond on the land side shore of The Fleet Lagoon. It is likely the swans were here before the monks, attracted by the eel-grass that grows in the waters of The Fleet.

Time now to visit the Sub Tropical Gardens. Twenty acres of woodland valley with exotic plants from all over the world and a nursery where you can buy plants and seeds. The first Countess of Ilchester established the gardens in 1765 as a kitchen garden to her nearby residence. In 1990 considerable damage was caused by a severe storm but since then the gardens have been restored and many new exotic and unusual plants have been introduced. There are formal and informal gardens with woodland walks and walled gardens. There is a bird aviary, children’s play area, and a colonial teahouse: here you can rest you feet for a few minutes before moving on to climb up to St. Catherine’s Chapel.

We started our day out at the top of a hill so it is appropriate to end it the same way. Throughout our stay at Abbotsbury we have been able to see St. Catherine’s Chapel from nearly every place we have visited: now it is time to take a closer look. The chapel is at the top of a grassy hill, some 250 feet above and 700 or so yards from the church; and quite a steep gradient to climb.

Built around the end of the 14th century the chapel’s survival intact after the actions of Henry VIII in 1538 possibly had something to do with it being a useful navigation marker for seafarers. From outside the thick walls and huge buttresses give the impression of a larger structure but internally the chapel is only 45’ x 15’. The chapel’s dedication is to the patron saint of spinsters and there is a notice inside, which says that once a year a spinster can pray to St. Catherine.

From the chapel you can look landward over the church, the Abbey Barn and the picturesque and historic village, seaward over The Fleet Lagoon; the Swannery, the Sub Tropical Gardens and Chesil beach where you could sit awhile in the warm early evening sun and watch the waves breaking against the shore and think “oh, what a perfect day.”

Monuments of Prehistoric Dorset

In purely archaeological terms the Prehistoric constitutes the period un-represented by any written record, from when the country was first occupied by man right up to the Roman invasion. Dorset is especially well endowed in this regard. It is as if its topography, climate and geographical position were most highly coveted by the earliest settlers of southern England, and the concentration of their activities and monuments here attains a density unparalleled anywhere in the country. This understandably makes the workload of the county’s archaeology department particularly challenging, for most fieldwork today is salvage or “rescue” archaeology in the vanguard of development.

As elsewhere the prehistoric in Dorset had been organised into five distinct periods on the basis of the type of monument, pottery and other artefacts. Chronologically there were the Palaeolithic, Mesolithic, Neolithic, Bronze Age and Iron Age, collectively spanning the period from before 500 thousand years ago to 43 AD. Of these the first two periods alone covered approximately 496 thousand years, or 99% of the time Britain has been inhabited. These were illiterate periods of hard and short hunter-gatherer living almost entirely represented today by flint tools, bones, or cave art. One site in Dorset above all others, which has yielded evidence of flint working, has been Hengistbury Head.

About 4000 BC a possible dissemination of ideas and practices through contact with the continent brought agriculture to the inhabitants of Britain. This brought with it a more settled way of life, which in turn led to the first appearance of earthworks to define the areas of places established for religion, trade, tribal meeting or even settlement. Several distinct kinds of earthwork make their appearance in Dorset, namely Causewayed Enclosures, Long Barrows and Henges.

Causewayed enclosures are circular or irregularly oval areas defined by up to three ring-ditches accompanied by low banks or ramparts built up using spoil from the ditches. The banks are discontinuous in one or more places to allow access into the enclosure. The ditches have yielded most of the period’s flint tools, bones and sherds of the earliest pottery to be made in England, clearly indicating that the people were habitually using ditches as middens for the refuse from their settlements, whether these were situated within the enclosures or outside them. Elsewhere excavation of some ditches has yielded only human remains, suggesting that at these enclosures only funeral rites were practised.

Causewayed enclosures are mainly distributed on the hilltops of the chalk downland, though some may have been constructed in the wider valleys. Two notable examples are at Dorchester: Flagstones was a causewayed enclosure partly destroyed by the construction of the town’s bypass; the remainder actually lies beneath Maxgate, the home of Thomas Hardy. This site revealed the marks of the antler picks used to dig it, and some burials took place in and around the enclosure. The hillforts of Maiden Castle near Dorchester and Hambledon Hill began their prehistoric record as causewayed enclosures before these were abandoned or superseded by later earthworks.

Long Barrows were or are the earthen prehistoric equivalent to mausolea for communal burial. They can be over 90 metres (300 feet) long, and usually taper towards the end, both in plan and elevation. The majority had a wooden mortuary enclosure and ditches usually flanked the sides. They are generally a feature of the chalk uplands, with two major groupings around and to the west of Dorchester. There are also groups on Pimperne and Thickthorn Downs near Cranbourne, close to the south west end of the special contemporary earthwork known as the Dorset Cursus. The Hell Stone near Portesham is the stone cairn of a long barrow now worn away.

A special class of barrow (and one found nowhere else outside Dorset) is the Bank Barrow, a much elongated variant of the long barrow, but which did not usually enclose a burial. There are three of these earthworks: at Maiden Castle and Came Down near Dorchester and at Martins Down near Long Bredy.

The Dorset Cursus itself was a linear enclosure almost 7 miles long, defined by two sets of parallel banks and ditches. It runs from Thickthorn Down to Pentridge, though only at the later does any part of the earthwork survive today. Its function is a matter of some controversy, though the monument probably reflects an aspect of tribal ritual. Associated long barrows cut the cursus at two points, showing that the burials were later, from a time when the cursus had passed out of use.

The transition from the Neolithic to the Bronze Age was not a sudden event, but a slow process of social and demographic change, which went on roughly between 2,500 and 1,500 BC. Over this period the causewayed camps were abandoned and the long barrows were sealed. During this phase also, the exclusively British innovation of the Henge makes its appearance.

Henges differed from the causewayed enclosures in usually having only one bank with entrances and the ditch usually, though not invariably, on the inside. The interiors were often left without other structures, though some had pits, posts, or standing stones. Mount Pleasant and Maumbury Rings near Dorchester and Eggardon Hill near Winterbourne Abbas being the best examples. Mount Pleasant was 400 metres (450 yards) across and was a major tribal centre with rings of timber uprights inside, though today it is only visible as an earth mark in the chalk soil. Henges usually occur singularly, but at Knowlton near Gussage St. Michael there is a cluster of three or four in close association.

Close to the henges in time were un-enclosed Stone Circles, which may reflect on a smaller scale the function of the more complex monument. There are two examples of these in Dorset, at Kingston Russell near Abbotsbury and Nine Stones near Winterbourne Abbas.

By far the most prolific (and most important) source of the information and artefacts of the Bronze Age Beaker and Wessex Cultures are the Round Barrows. There were six variants on the basic plan, Bell and Bowl Barrows being the most common. Wessex was the heartland of barrow building and there are still some 400 surviving examples to be seen along the South Dorset Ridgeway. They were graves of a rich chiefdom society and have yielded rich hoards of pottery, brooches, and gold and bronze objects, as at Clandon near Martinstown. There are large cemeteries at Oakley Down near Sixpenny Handley and at Poor Lot near Winterbourne Abbas. Further clusters occur around the Dorset Cursus, in Came Wood and around the Knowlton henges.

After 1000 BC there were permanent fields and settlement sites. Around 700 BC the Iron Age in Britain began, when population pressure and increasing inter-tribal warfare may have been the impetus for the appearance of the great revetted and defended hillforts. The earliest in Dorset may be Chalbury near Weymouth (c.600 BC.) Between 200 and 100 BC many of these forts were much enlarged, as at Maiden Castle, Eggardon Hill, Hod Hill, Hambledon Hill, Badbury Rings, Abbotsbury Castle, Pilsden Pen and Rawlesbury.

But the present distribution of these monuments can be misleading as to the pattern of settlement in prehistoric Dorset. Because the monuments and settlements are today found only on the uplands it has been thought that the people of the time only settled and farmed here. But later people have not used the higher ground intensively. It has now been realised that the valleys were settled in prehistoric times also, but here the evidence of activity has largely been destroyed by post-Roman settlement and farming.

Harry Pouncy – A great publicist for the Dorset scene

Just two months before he died Harry Pouncy visited Pokesdown Technical School in Bournemouth to do what he had become accomplished at doing as an erudite hobby throughout his life: to present a lecture with slides on the beloved county of his birth. Of that lecture on February 3rd 1925 the Bournemouth Echo reported: “There is no one who can talk and bring visions of the leafy lanes of Dorset, charging the air with the scent of its fields and with the atmosphere of its stately ruins and its humble cottage homes like Mr Harry Pouncy of Dorchester.”

Pouncy’s love affair with all things Dorset and Dorset’s people showed itself early. And it cannot wholly be a coincidence that he shared his name and preoccupation with pictorialising Dorset with his contemporaries John and Walter Pouncy, who ran a notable photographic business in Dorchester. Yet their existed no direct blood-tie between himself and the father and son.

However, Pouncy is an unusual name, so it is likely that Harry was descended from a different branch of the family to that of John and Walter, though quite possibly from common ancestors. He was born near St. Peter’s Church in Dorchester and baptised there on December 8th 1870, the son of Thomas Crook Pouncy and his wife Ellen. He had two brothers; Thomas and George Ernest; and two sisters, Mabel Ellen and Michelle Ellen. His paternal grandfather was Thomas Smith Pouncy who married Sarah Crook. Their children, apart from Harry’s father, were Ann, George, Elizabeth and Marianne. Harry was the third (middle) child of Thomas and Ellen.

Growing up within easy reach of the sparsely populated Dorset countryside, Harry grew to love its very soil and acquired an enormous knowledge of the country people’s customs and folklore. He earned a reputation for being a likeable man in every respect. Not surprisingly, his later course as a public speaker and publicist for the delights of his county came to the attention of Thomas Hardy, who became one of Pouncy’s closest friends. The two would meet frequently at Maxgate, Hardy’s home, to exchange information and opinions on the countryside and its customs.

Harry Pouncy began his working life earning his living as a journalist, first as a reporter and then as proprietor of the Dorset County Chronicle and Southern Times, apart from a period serving in the First Volunteer Battalion, the Dorset Regiment during the First World War. In his senior position over more junior reporters he knew the value of a compliment towards them whilst being careful not to flatter insincerely. If a piece of writing from a junior reporter pleased him he would lavish praise unstintingly, and his words of encouragement would have a stimulating effect on his colleagues. On the other hand, slovenliness, bad spelling, wrong initialling and slipshod paragraph writing was anathema to him.

On the 7th of July 1898, when he was 28, Pouncy married Daisy Francis Anwell, a 19-year-old Dorchester spinster, at St. Peter’s Church, near to where he was living. The ceremony was witnessed by the bride’s father, John Alfred Anwell, and Harry’s brother and sister Ernest and Mabel. The Pouncy’s had a son, Harry Anwell Pouncy, born in 1899 and baptised in Dorchester that December. In the 1901 census Harry senior is recorded as a newspaper reporter, aged 31, living with Daisy, young Harry and Lionel Anwell, a relation of Daisy’s, at 41 Culliford Road, Dorchester. As a husband and father Pouncy was a good, kind, patient and conscientious man, and said to be the wisest of counsellors.

Later Pouncy resigned his career in journalism upon being appointed Secretary of the Dorset Farmers Union, his labours for which earned him the respect and friendship of every farmer in the county. Said one leading farmer to a reporter from the Echo: “They thought the world of him. He did excellent work for the organisation and more than that he helped the farmers individually with advice upon questions that perplexed them. He won all our hearts by his zeal and his loyalty and his charming modesty.”

While continuing in the service of the Farmers Union Pouncy acquired a lantern projector and began collecting slides with the intention of sharing his prodigious knowledge of Dorset with the local societies and general public through the medium of public lecturing. Given a lantern picture of a yokel Pouncy had a gift for seeming to make the bumpkin portrayed come alive. He knew the dweller of the open country as no others did.

His lectures included a series called “Old Dorset Rustic Wit & Humour” and it was said that no man was more competent or entertaining in the matter of presenting talks on and about Dorset. Nor was his subject matter limited to customs and folklore, for he could discourse equally knowledgeably on such topics as dialects, archaeology and literature, even singing traditional folk songs. A man of varied interests, Harry was for many years an active member of the Dorset Field Club and Dorchester Debating and Dramatic Society as well as a frequent and much welcomed guest speaker at meetings of the Society of Dorset Men in London.

Sadly, in his last year Pouncy’s health broke down, though even then he would not relinquish his duties with the Farmers Union until that organisation compelled him to. He had been a glutton for work all his life, frequently burning oil far into the night, a regimen that may well have prematurely ruined his health and foreshortened his life. The Farmers Union even raised the money to enable Pouncy to a take a convalescent holiday abroad. But the medical restrictions he was under prevented him from enjoying his holiday to the full as he would have liked.

The summer before he died Pouncy talked with a journalist friend in the Bournemouth pleasure gardens, remarking with some irony that it was “the first time in his life that he had the full freedom to enjoy a sort of unlimited holiday.” Like many cerebral men he wrestled with doubts and difficulties over religious faith, though he was ever open to conviction. Once he saw something to be true he cordially embraced it and acted up to his convictions.

Harry Pouncy died in Weymouth on April 28th 1925 after several weeks of illness and was buried in Dorchester cemetery close to that other great writer and surgeon Sir Frederick Treves, who had himself been baptised at the same font in St. Peters and had been born almost next door to the Cornhill house in which Pouncy was born. His funeral was attended by a huge section of the agricultural community, as well as many literary figures. As that same interviewee farmer in the Echo said: “His death was the biggest blow that could have been dealt us.”

Footnote:

From the Kingston Parish Magazine for January 1914

 Entertainment

On Friday, January 23rd, in the Schoolroom, Mr. Harry Pouncy, the Dorset lecturer and entertainer, will give a popular entertainment in the Dorset dialect, comprising a recital from the poems of William Barnes, sketches from the works of Mr. Thomas Hardy (by the author’s special permission), and old Dorset songs and stories. The time will be as usual, namely, doors open at 7, commence at 7.30. Admission: First three rows 1s. ; rest of room, 6d. ; and children of school age in the Class room, 3d.The general Choir Practice in that week would be held on Thursday evening.

 

Isaac Gulliver – Dorset’s Smuggler King

He was a smuggler, as was his father before him. He flouted the law of his day, yet always managed to present a façade of respectability. Isaac Gulliver, it has been said, was “the gentle smuggler” the Raffles of the Hanoverian duty-free culture; an audacious genius of an illicit occupation.

In the 18th century the Napoleonic wars forced the price of continental wheat and liquor to a prohibitive level for the poor. As journeymen’s wages were also very low there was a great incentive for many men and some women to smuggle as a means to supplement a meagre income. Since agricultural wages were typically only 3s to 6s a week the prospect of making 10s a night by smuggling proved irresistible. Venturers were often in league with captains and were regularly running the risk from or confrontation with excise officers or “Preventive Men”, as they were sometimes known.

But Gulliver was in a league of his own regarding his resourcefulness in the lengths he could – and did – go to give customs the slip on at least three occasions. He is said to have had himself carried through the streets of Poole in a barrel. On another occasion he even feigned death by whiting his face with chalk and lying in an open coffin while excise officers were raiding the house he was in.

Little however is known about Gulliver’s early life in the Wiltshire border village of Seamington near Melksham where he was born on September 5th 1745, the son of a man himself actively involved in smuggling in the Poole area. At this time Bournemouth as a developed resort did not exist, and the narrow wooded valleys (chines) which ran down to the shore were ideal for concealing un-shipped contraband. Coy Pond at Westbourne was a popular rendezvous for smugglers, and Gulliver’s father. And later Isaac himself regularly used this and Branksome Chine for concealing their offloaded cargoes.

When Isaac was 19 in 1765, his father made a will. By this time his son possessed a strong physique and constitution, and had begun to follow in his father’s footsteps. 1765 saw him in collaboration with Robert Trotman, another smuggler who was shot dead in mysterious circumstances on the Poole shore, causing suspicion to be cast upon Gulliver as the possible murderer on the night in question. But as with so many of the other accusations which were to follow in the years to come, Gulliver’s possible complicity in the killing could not be proved. He was also said to have been implicated in a confrontation between 40 smugglers and 6 dragoons at about this time, which resulted in the outlaws’ horses being stolen. Trotman was buried in Kinson Churchyard.

By the time his daughters had arrived Isaac was in league with William Beale and Roger Ridout. Running much contraband on the shore between Poole and Christchurch. As his wealth from smuggling accrued, Gulliver was in a position to enter into property speculation and investment on a grand scale, as well as being a moneylender for mortgaging.

In 1775 for instance, Gulliver bought Pitts Farm and other properties and lands in the Kinson area. Prior to this he also held land at Cudsell and Ensbury and had styled himself as a wine merchant and innkeeper at Thorney Down. Between 1775 and 1783 he bought Eggardon farm from the Revd. William Chafin and had sub-let 75 acres of land at Kinson while living at the King’s Arms for a while as a tenant. In 1783 he sub-let the shop he ran as a winery at Kinson.

The same period also witnessed notable incidents arising from the smuggling operations on the coast. In 1777 a man called Levi Payne stole Gulliver’s 10 year-old grey horse and £21.16s collected on his behalf. In response Gulliver, who was living at Thorney Down at the time, advertised a handsome reward for the return of his property. But in 1778 he offered 10 guineas as a bounty and 5 guineas “to drink the King’s health” to any young men who were prepared to serve in the Navy or Army. December 1779 found Gulliver boarding at the White Hart in Longham while he was selling off some horses.

A few months later customs officers raided a granary thought to have been near the Dolphin Inn at Kinson. 541 gallons of brandy and rum, with 1,871 lbs. of raw coffee were seized from J. Singer, one of Gulliver’s servants. Then in 1782 Gulliver’s name appeared on a customs list for un-shipping 4 pipes (480 gallons) of wine without payment of duty. About four years earlier the King’s Commissioners for Customs in London asked their counterparts in Poole for a report on Gulliver’s activities, but for neither of these indictments were the authorities able to make any charge stick.

But there were few who did not benefit from Gulliver’s activities. The gentry were directly or indirectly the recipients of his imports. And by 1780 Gulliver had established a network of distribution points as far west as Lyme Regis. He also had a force of about 10 men in his service, called “Whitewigs” after the distinctive uniforms of white coiffures and smocks, which they wore.

The broad, solid redbrick and cobble tower of Kinson Church has a band of dripstones around it which today are worn and chipped, but the damage is not due solely to time and the elements. It was caused by knocks from kegs of liquor being winched up the tower, probably under cover of darkness by Gulliver’s men during the heyday of Dorset smuggling.

Gulliver even planted trees on the ancient Eggardon Hillfort to act as a landmark for the luggers making for the coast with their cargoes. Then the contraband would be landed at West Bay, Swyre or Bexington. The Preventive Men were well aware of the activities of Gulliver and his cahorts, but virtually no action was ever taken to curb them. Possibly a certain amount of bribery went on to account for this, but the smugglers had to be caught in the act to be arrested and charged.

In 1784 customs raided a barn at Kinson, generally believed to have been at Pitt Farm, which Gulliver had ought from Mary Barnes. Another tenant of Mary’s was John Potter, whose wife Hannah was questioned by the officers at the Dolphin Inn.

In 1788 Gulliver put his Kinson home up to let and by the following year he was living at West Moors. Three years later he was at West Parley, where he is noted for bringing an injunction against the unlawful removal of the Hampreston/Parley parish boundary marker. But in the 1790’s he moves to Long Crichel to lead a quieter life.

In 1796 Gulliver’s second daughter Ann married Edmund Wagge of Burton House, but found herself a widow after only three years. Gulliver himself was to experience a family tragedy when in November 1798 at the age of only 24 his son Isaac died and was buried at Wimborne. Gulliver officially retired in 1800 but an 1867 edition of the local paper The Poole Pilot carried a story that at the turn of the century Gulliver had landed a record amount of contraband from three luggers anchored near Bournemouth Pier.

The year 1815 saw the Gullivers settled at Kinson House (now superseded by modern flats) and the retired smuggler entering into a legal agreement for a cottage in Kinson to which was attached an ancient enclosure called Le Cocqs, situated behind the Kinson Baths. Gulliver’s daughter Elizabeth, who had married a respectable Wimborne banker, called William Fryer, made her marital home at Pelham House. In 1822 Gulliver was awarded a deed of land at Bourne Farm, Canford, but could scarcely have lived to enjoy it. Ominously, on Friday, 13th of September that year, he died and was interred in Wimborne Minster. The Canford Award revealed that he owned or leased over 390 acres in the Kinson area. His 12,000-word will revealed that he also held extensive property in Wiltshire, Hampshire and Somerset.

(See our story Sixpenny Handley, published 26th November 2012 in Sixpenny Handley category.)

Dorset – Smugglers Coast

The south coast of England in particular has had a long tradition of smuggling, especially where there are many coves or inlets ideal for concealing contraband. Devon and Cornwall are particularly well endowed in this regard, but Dorset has hardly been less important as a focus for the trade. The life of Isaac Gulliver, the ‘smuggler’s king’ of Dorset, has been covered in a biographic feature on the site, here I am considering the more general look at smuggling and what motivated people to become involved in its illegal operations.

Usually thought of as a male preserve, what may at first surprise many people is the extent to which women were also involved. Some of these would have been smugglers wives, though this is not invariably the case. Dorset, in the heyday of smuggling, was of course a very rural and sparsely populated county, with much agrarian poverty. The business of importing goods, usually liquor, from cross-channel boats under the cover of darkness in order to flout excise regulations was a lucrative sideline that impoverished families living within a few miles of the coast would find too great a temptation to overlook.

The register for Dorchester Gaol 1782-1853 lists the names and occupations of no fewer than 64 women convicted of various smuggling related offences. Twenty one of these (32%) were from Portland alone, while just six resided in Weymouth, five in Bridport, three in Bere Regis and two in Lyme Regis. The parishes of another nine are not recorded. Wool and Woolbridge, Preston, Pulham, Sutton Poyntz, Langton Matravers, Marnhull, Morecombelake, Beaminster, Bradpole, Broadwindsor, Buckland Ripers, Charmouth, Chetnole, Chickerell, Corfe, Dorchester and Kington Magna account for the remaining sixteen.

Three notable examples are Charlotte Drake of Bridport and Ann Maidment, a Bridport buttoner, who both assaulted and obstructed excise officers, and Mary Applin of Langton, who committed an excise offence. Martha Lumb of Weymouth was sentenced to three months hard labour in 1822 for smuggling, while Catherine Winter, a Weymouth seamstress, served an 18-day sentence in 1844 for smuggling at the age of 70!

But regardless of the sex of the offender, for the populace as a whole, smuggling was generally considered an honourable trade. The customs officers or the “King’s Men” were responsible for ensuring that contraband was impounded and fines levied. At Poole the problem of smuggling was so rampant and the customs men so understaffed and overworked that Dragoons had to be deployed to assist them as early as 1723. Typically the customs officers were brave and resourceful with a strict code of conduct; so that names were never banded about and nothing ever put in writing.

Poole was especially ideal for smuggling operations because of the exceptional size and highly indented nature of its harbour, the second largest natural harbour in the world. Goods were disembarked into inlet hideaways at Hamworthy and then transported by waggoners to Bristol via Blandford. Furthermore, goods could be offloaded on the south Purbeck coast and hauled overland to be temporarily laid up in the deep inlets such as those at Arne or the Goathorn Peninsula for later distribution to Poole markets without the smugglers having to risk detection by passing through the harbour mouth. Longfleet and Parkstone farmers constructed secret tunnels down to the water’s edge for bringing goods ashore.

After 1759 the volume of smuggled goods passing through Poole significantly increased, though raised vigilance on the part of the Preventatives gradually brought this down. The Commissioners of Customs based in London frequently requested reports on the amount of smuggling going on in the Poole area.

Although landings and disembarkation operations took place from Lyme Regis to Christchurch, the coast from Portland westwards to Lyme attracted special attention. This was because most of the coast is occupied by the Chesil Bank, a shingle spit enclosing a lagoon (the Fleet) which was a convenient storage-sink to hold casks (“tubs”) for collection at a more appropriate time. One memorable incident took place in 1762 when a Cornish vessel was broken up on the Chesil in a winter storm and its cargo washed into the sea. There then followed a desperate attempt by Weymouth citizens to salvage what tubs of liquor they could before the customs house officers could reach them! In the end the citizens claimed 26 tubs to the revenue’s 10; another ten were cast out to sea but recovered the next day.

Probably the greatest hideout and smugglers haunt along this coast was Lulworth Castle, the seat of the Weld family, but which had a connection with smuggling throughout the 18th century from 1719 onwards. In 1719 revenue officers from Weymouth raided the castle and the entire Lulworth area. It has been said that maids working at the castle would routinely warn smugglers when the customs men were in the vicinity by showing a light at a window to indicate when it was safe to come in, but also act as a bearing. The gangs at Lulworth could comprise as many as 100 disguised and heavily armed men, who used Mupe Rocks as the disembarkation point, but the deep ravines and inlets along the coast west of Kimmeridge were also ideal for concealing kegs. A gap in the cliffs at Worbarrow Bay was a special favourite and tubs were raised to the top of Gad Cliff, and brought ashore at Arish Mell and for storage at Tyneham Church.

On a knoll near the coast between West Bexington and Puncknowle there still stands an unusual monument. This is The Lookout, a square building constructed as a signal-station for the Fensibles, but which may also have been used by Isaac Gulliver, who used the Bexingtons, Swyre and Burton Bradstock as landing sites after 1776.

Lyme Regis has had an especially long smuggling history extending back at least as far as the 16th century, when certain merchants were suspected of smuggling bullion out of the country by sea. In 1576 a revenue man called Ralph Lane was sent to Lyme with a deputy bearing a warrant to search ships alleged to be involved in the operations. His arrival however, provoked a riot during which the warrant was seized and Lane’s deputy was thrown into the sea. From Lyme contraband was traditionally floated up the Buddle River, often under the noses of the Preventives, who were frequently understaffed and restrained by bureaucratic regulations. Booty offloaded onto the Cobb could not be inspected until it had been carried half a mile to the Cobb Gate. Lyme is believed to be the birthplace of Warren Lisle, a customs officer who at 17 was appointed Patent Searcher at Poole and who made his first seizure of a cargo from a small vessel in Portland Harbour in 1724.

Weymouth was central to excise operations for the sea, but the town’s revenue officials had a long and shameful history of ineptitude and corruption. Enter George Whelplay, who in the 16th century failed to make any headway in countering popular local support for smuggling. Originally a London haberdasher, Whelplay came to Dorset to try his fortune as a public informer, and as such could claim a fifty per cent commission on each fine he imposed upon those he caught, but in 1538 he incurred the wrath of smugglers and fellow customs officers alike when he exceeded his remit. Whelplay twice stumbled on a cargo of horses being illegally shipped to France, but instead of coming to his assistance in rounding up the French boats the officials joined a gang of merchants and attacked him.

Around 1830 smuggling reached a climax in the Weymouth area, where, it is said; tunnels were constructed from the harbour to merchant’s houses and even to the residence of King George III. The leading figure in smuggling to be connected with Weymouth was Pierre Latour, otherwise known as French Peter, who functioned as a prominent gang-leader in the town. In Wyke Regis churchyard there is a grave of one William Lewis, a smuggler shot dead by a revenue officer on board the schooner Pigmy.

In conclusion, anyone who has anything to do with Dorset will know of Thomas Hardy, the well-known novelist-poet. Less well known is that Hardy was an authority on smuggling – and not without good reason. His birthplace cottage at Highter Bockhampton was actually a capacious safehouse for smuggled contraband that could accommodate up to 80 casks of brandy. “But this isn’tall.” When a child, Hardy was regaled with smuggling stories from his grandfather and his own father had a manservant who was actually involved in the trade. The Bockhampton cottage lay on the smugglers route between Osmington Mills and their markets in Sherborne and Yeovil.

Dorset’s Clocks and Clockmakers

The history of clock-making or horology is one of a constant battle to improve the means of timekeeping. Craftsmen in Dorset no less reflected that in their work from the earliest beginnings in the 11th and 12th centuries to the decline of hand-made clocks in the 19th century.

The earliest clocks ever made in Dorset (as probably elsewhere) were those made for churches. During medieval times smaller versions of church clocks were being hand-made for the home elsewhere in the country, but this type was unknown in Dorset. However these clocks would have been very poor timekeepers until technical advances such as the pendulum in the 17th century enabled timepieces to become reliable enough for use in the home.

By the end of the 18th century and from then until the mid-19th century technical refinement and reliability in hand-made clocks reached as far as it would ever go. Henceforth a steady decline in standards set in with the arrival of the Industrial Revolution and mass production.

Dorset exactly reflected this pattern. Its earliest known clock is that residing in Wimborne Minster, dating from 1409, though it is quite possible that this clock or another was in use well before this date. But the earliest sources of our knowledge of clocks in the county come from Churchwarden’s records. These list the names of the clockmakers and repairers – or blacksmiths or whitesmiths – who maintained church turret clocks for over 100 years.

As to when horology became clearly defined as an industry in Dorset, this is difficult to place. For example, when the borough of Dorchester organised its trades into guilds some clock-makers, though included, elected to be registered as braziers or ironmongers as late as the 19th century.

One place where the clock-maker/blacksmith connection can most clearly be seen is in Stourton Caundle parish church. A funerary hatchment of John Biddlecombe bearing the arms of the Worshipful Company of blacksmiths hangs in this church and states “With hammer in hand all artes do stand.” The blacksmith and clock-maker records were lost in World War II but an earlier John Biddlecombe left his blacksmith and clock-working tools to his son upon his death in 1741. The hatchment therefore probably commemorates John junior, who in fact made the church clock still in use today. Indeed, Biddlecombe was just the first in a long succession of smiths to style themselves as clock-makers as well.

One interesting instance of wounded pride has survived showing how clock-makers would consider themselves a cut above other trades. In a letter written in 1772 James Norman, a Poole-clock maker, replies to a complaining minister or churchwarden about his charge for installing a church clock that includes this line: “You may get bunglers or white or blacksmiths to work at a cheaper rate!” Early turret clocks needed constant attention and repair, and as public clocks the cost of their purchase and maintenance was accountable.

A little later than the earliest Wimborne record, accounts of churchwardens in Bridport record a clock in 1425 and in Corfe Castle one is recorded in 1570. It is further noted that Weymouth and Melcombe Regis bought a new clock for St. Mary’s church in 1619. In this instance the maker kept the old clock’s movements in part exchange, indicating that the church’s first clock went back at least 70 years before the replacement. It is not known whether or not these clocks were made in Dorset.

By the 18th century church clocks were being signed and dated. The earliest known signed and dated clock is that set into the tower of Sydling St. Nicholas Church and is inscribed “1593 E.T.C.”

There is no record of a domestic clock in Dorset until the 16th century, but by 1620 records show that the county clearly had clock-makers, and from then a comprehensive list of makers can begin. The earliest records are in the Dorchester Domesday Book at the time of Henry V till Elizabeth I, and the first mention of a clock-maker in the borough records minute of 15th September 1625. As expected the principle-line of clock-makers was centred on Dorchester, though Poole and Weymouth were also centres of some importance by the late 18th century.  Bridport, Shaftesbury, Sherborne, Blandford and Wimborne had a less significant, but strong and continuous tradition of clock-making, while Stalbridge, Puddletown and Bere Regis were home to minor cottage horologists. Shaftesbury and Sherborne were the earliest producers of 17th century lantern clocks.

Most domestic clocks made in Dorset were 30-hour long-case clocks fashioned to suit the lifestyle of the county, and these were the cheapest. By the 1760’s clocks powered by falling weights had appeared and the most common type after LCC’s were the so-called “classroom” or wall clocks which could indicate the time for a large number of people at once without the disadvantage of the long-case clock. Early wall clocks of the late 18th century generally had large dials, well-cast brass bezels and factory movements mass-produced in Birmingham, Germany or the US.

An Act of Parliament in 1797 taxing the possession of all clocks (and watches) – though repealed after just one year – effectively halved the number of makers as public clocks became more important. These were the “Act of Parliament Clocks” which James Kenway of Bridport and Thomas Wood of Dorchester specialised in making.

In Dorchester the earliest recorded clock-maker seems to have been Richard How, who had relations and apprentices with connections to many other makers. Also of importance in the 19th century was James Bunn, who’s clocks retained typical features of the late 17th or very early 18th centuries. However, James Wood of Dorchester (1741-1803) relied on quality of engraving for effect and specialised in making clocks of exceptionally high quality. These were probably the last of an era of true hand-made clocks before the custom of buying in more finished parts made clock-making less exacting.

But probably the county’s most innovative clock maker was Henry Ward of Blandford, who even has timepieces exhibited at the British Museum and in Rockford, Illinois. Another horologist in Blandford was Sam Pegler, who was predominantly a maker of bracket clocks that superceded long-case clocks in popularity during the 19th century, and the town’s Charles Baker made three noteworthy long-case clocks with fine marquetry casings. Members of the Bastard family were also involved in horology.

In Bridport a little-known horologist called Lovelace made a particularly unusual long-case clock in a “black-japanned” case about 1700 that was eventually sold at Sotheby’s. Also in Bridport, a maker called Daniel Freke made a clock equipped with a primitive “half-lantern” pinion drive to the count-wheel.

Weymouth’s John Harvey produced the first fine wall clock between 1790 and 1800. In the 18th century Lawrence Boyce of Puddletown was a quite prolific maker of long-case clocks, while Ralph Norman, an apprentice of Richard How, left Dorchester in the 1720’s to make timepieces in Poole of very grand styles and equal in quality to those being made in London.

There is a record of one William Clark, then clock-making in Stalbridge, but originally from Cerne Abbas or Frome, producing some 28-day clocks, while Simon Aish (1690-1735) made some clocks in Sherborne.

Finally, I can note that much more recently Geoffrey Booth of Bere Regis produced a clock for which the case was made by master carpenter and craftsman John Makepeace of Parnham House near Beaminster.

Thomas Hine and His Fine Brandy

For those living in Beaminster the name of Hine would have a familiar ring, especially if they live in Hogshill Street. The White Hart brewery, almost half way up the street on the right, was formerly the premises of the Hine family – specifically Thomas Hine, founder of the Cognac-distilling business that bears his name.

Thomas the distiller was born in 1775, one of seven sons of another Thomas Hine and his wife Elizabeth, who also had four daughters (the baptisms of five of these eleven children were recorded in the Congregational Chapel register.) The father, Thomas senior, was descended from the senior of two lines or branches of the family that can be traced back to one Thomas Hine, then landlord of the Three Horseshoes inn in Powerstock, and his first wife Edith. The family line, in which the last Thomas (the Cognac maker) belonged, began with the marriage of the landlord’s son, Thomas Jr, to Elizabeth Daniel in 1762. Elizabeth was the great-granddaughter of the Royalist rebel James Daniel who fought on the side of Monmouth at Sedgemoor.

Thomas Jr became a cloth maker in Beaminster, dealing in products that included drab cloth, sheeting, blanketing, serge, flannel, hankies, thread and buttons. His premises were at what is today No 21 Market Square. Aside from his trade, Thomas was also a leading light of the town’s Congregational Chapel for 50 years. In 1767 his name appeared on a list as a subscriber, collecting funds for repairs to the meeting house. He was admitted as a communicant in 1777 and made a deacon in 1796.

The following year Jeremiah Newman, a surgeon of Beaminster, sold 19 Hogshill Street (later known as Devonia) to Thomas. This building was raised on the site of three former timber houses that had burnt down in the Beaminster fire of 1781. Elizabeth Hine died in 1814, and when Thomas died in 1817 Devonia came into the possession of his eldest son James, who in turn would pass it down to his brother Richard within a year.

Cognac maker Thomas Jr became the best known of the sons of Thomas and Elizabeth. As a young man he may have worked for some time as a cloth maker in his family’s tradition, though unlike some of his brothers he did not remain at home to pursue his father’s occupation. Instead he evidently cultivated an abiding fascination for all things Gallic, notwithstanding the intense animosity prevailing between England and Napoleon’s ascendant Frankish Empire at the time.

Out of a desire to learn the French language and culture, Thomas crossed the Channel in 1793 when the revolution was already underway, and proceeded to Jarnac, soon after which, war with England broke out. Consequently, expatriate Britons or visitors found themselves being promptly incarcerated as prisoners of war, and in September 1793 Hine was himself arrested and imprisoned in nearby Cognac.

As it happened this town, in the French Department of Charente, had been a centre for the distilling of high-quality brandy since the 17th century (the names Cognac or Armagnac incidentally, have also since become applied to the casks or barrels in which brandy is matured.) However, Hine had friends at the town hall and through their good offices and intervention Thomas was released in May 1794.

Once freed, Hine found employment with the local business of Ranson, Delamain & Co., brandy producers of Jarnac. This brought him into romantic contact with Delamain’s daughter Francoise Elizabeth and three years later in 1797 they were married. Not long before or after, Thomas became a partner in the business, and Ranson, Delamain & Co became Thomas Hine & Co., from where the couple’s descendants spread the name of Cognac throughout the world. Thomas had found his vocation for life, and came to serve as an honorary citizen on Jarnac’s Municipal Council for many years until his death in 1822.

Thomas’s eldest son by Francoise became the first first-generation descendant of an English immigrant ever to be elected mayor of a French town. Today the sixth generation of Thomas Hine’s descendants maintain the distilling business at the Jarnac headquarters, from where they distribute their product to 150 countries.

The two lines of the family remaining in Beaminster however, finally ceased in 1939 with the death of Richard Hine, the town’s chemist, but also a photographer, Congregationalist and popular local citizen. He also wrote a history of Beaminster that was published in 1914. When the chapel was closed and converted to use as the museum, memorabilia of this Hine was put on display in the ground floor gallery. Richard was not a descendant of Powerstock innkeeper Thomas by his first wife Edith as the Cognac-making Thomas had been, but by his second wife Lydia.

Bridport News – 1857

This letter published in the 17th January 1857 edition of The Bridport News, caught our eye.

Sir, – Are you disposed to take the part of one that has been most unmercifully abused? If you are, please to insert this letter.

People have been saying hard things about me for the last three months; and not only so, but have fathered the railings of their own tongues and pens upon me, and in more cases than one, forged my name. Can people believe for a moment that I could so forget my own exalted dignity as to condescend to abuse, not only my faithful attendants, but myself into the bargain? May my heart cease to beat and my hands to move if ever I do. I don’t profess to be perfect; none of my species are, anymore than the species of my revilers.  What, in my transition state, I did occasionally go to rest for the night without putting out my light? Was it not a new duty I had to discharge, and are not all liable to perform new duties somewhat irregularly for a time? Hitherto, I had been allowed no light in the evening, however much I might have wanted it, and I cannot sufficiently thank the Congress of Paris for bringing about an event, in commemoration of which my internal darkness is illuminated.

Then again, some said I was two-faced, and told East Street one thing, and West Street another, while the information which I gave the north and that which I gave the south differed from both, as well as from each other. This would seem to prove that I am four-faced, which I admit. It is probable that I may have said different things to different parties, but then it must be remembered that my stomach was in a disordered state, and everybody knows that a disordered stomach will produce a disordered head, and thus lead to confusion. But, whatever I may have said, I say the same to all parties now; and I am glad to be able to state that it is now a considerable length of time since I left my light burning all night. I flatter myself that I have been very punctual of late in extinguishing it.

It has been said that there is great difficulty in seeing my face and my hands at a distance. Now I beg leave to say that my duty is to give information to the people of Bridport within the three bridges, and not to be stared at through telescopes from Bradpole, the Harbour, and other foreign parts.

My light is complained of. Now I have never been to London, but I have heard that there are some of my own species there illuminated, whose light is not as good as mine.

On the whole, I think the public have good reason to be satisfied both with me and my patrons. I will mark the hours as they pass, let the public improve them.

THE TOWN CLOCK

P.S. Please excuse bad writing. My hands are shivering in the cold wind and rain.

William Holloway – the forgotten poet

Ask any Dorset native to name their two most pre-eminent literary figures and most likely they would reply: “Thomas Hardy and William Barnes.” Less well known however is another William who seems to have slipped into the position of becoming the County’s forgotten third poet: William Holloway.

Holloway was born at Whatcombe, a manor in the parish of Winterborne Whitchurch about four miles from Blandford, presumably early in 1761 as there is a record of his baptism at Whitchurch on June 23rd of that year. William was the last child of Lawrence and Frances Kains Holloway, whose other children were another son, Thomas and a daughter, Elizabeth. His great-uncle, also called William, was serving as Whitchurch’s Churchwarden at the time of the poet’s birth.

Few details of William Holloway’s earliest years were recorded, other than that he was orphaned in early childhood, his father dying before William was two years old. Following the death of his mother not many years after, William was adopted by his grandmother. His years at school however, were happy ones, during which time he acquired some grounding in Greek and French, and came to admire and inwardly digest the works of Milton, Gray, Shakespeare and James Thompson.

While still a young man, William Holloway left his grandmother’s home and care to settle in Weymouth. He took up an apprenticeship with a local printer, eventually being put in charge of the printing shop attached to Weymouth’s Circulating and Musical Library owned by the obese larger-than-life public figure of John Love. It is thought that from an early age William had already begun to write verse, though his first published work, a eulogy on the local Halsewell shipwreck disaster, did not appear until 1788, when he would have been about 37. A small book of verse under the title of The Cottager appeared the following year, these early works being published by his employer John Love.

On November 1st in the year before his poem about the Halsewell was published, Holloway married a spinster of Melcombe Regis, Christian Jackson, at St. Mary’s Church in that parish. They had four children, all girls: Elizabeth, Lucy, Mary and Hannah, of which only Elizabeth appears never to have married. By this time Holloway had matured into a tall, dark quite handsome man. A contemporary print shows him as having a long swarthy face, dark eyes and a pronounced aquiline nose.

In 1798 George III and his entourage paid their first visit to Weymouth, an occasion which spurred Holloway and several local amateur poets to contribute odes on the event to the Salisbury-based Western Country Magazine. During 1790 and 1791 Holloway contributed five of the descriptive verses for twelve Weymouth views, originally published by Love in collaboration with the engraver James Fittler but subsequently collected together and re-issued as a single volume.

By 1792 The Halsewell and The Cottager had been sufficiently well received by the public to cover Holloway’s expenses, such that Love could proceed with publishing The Fate of Glencoe, a historical ballad. In his preface to this work Holloway exemplified much of the half-veiled modesty that characterised this unprepossessing bard throughout his life. He made it plain that the work was penned amid “the hurry of business” and “interruptions of active life.” Though essentially a studious and serious thinker, Holloway also relished the dramatic arts and theatrical life, once composing a short epilogue for a play staged at Weymouth’s Theatre Royal as well as the lyrics for a song to open a new theatre at Dartmouth.

But in October 1793 Love suddenly died, pitching his respectable partner Holloway into one of those dramatic life-course shifts that so many people experience. Under probate Love’s business stock went up for sale and in his will Holloway inherited his printing equipment and materials for a fee of ten guineas a year, in effect inheriting his employer’s works and library. But for various reasons Holloway was not able to avail himself of this opportunity for proprietorship. Instead he then entered upon a phase of his life which he was later to recall as a time “when fortune frowned.”

In an attempt to break free of what he felt had become a professional blind alley Holloway threw up his Weymouth associations and moved with his wife and daughters to Leadenhall Street in London. In June 1798 he landed a job as a clerk at the office of the East India Company in the same street. His position was well-paid and to all accounts not burdensome, since the clerks had privileges such as free breakfasts and postage as well as enough spare time to read papers. But it is likely that Holloway owed his position to Weymouth’s Steward family, who had close associations with the EIC, and Holloway did dedicate two poems to Francis Steward, a former mayor of the town.

Over the 33 years Holloway was in the service of the EIC the greater part and culmination of his poetry was written. Thematically he was soon reverting to nostalgic elegies on his native county such as The Rustic Farewell: a Fragment in the Dorset Dialect; The Peasants Fate (reprinted four times) and Scenes of Youth. Years later he entered into partnership with another poet, John Branch, to produce a small four-volume work on natural history.

Holloway honourably retired from the EIC at the age of 60 in 1821, though it was another ten years before the company would grant him a pension. The poet did not, as might have been expected, retire to Dorset, but to Hackney, then just a village about three miles from Leadenhall Street. Personally and domestically he was cared for by his eldest daughter Elizabeth, his wife Christian having died some years before. Holloway’s other three daughters all married London men and settled in the capital. Rock Place, his home on Tottenham Road in the Hackney hamlet of Kingsland was even then becoming enclosed by the town-house developments that would eventually absorb the village into the greater metropolis. But when he moved in, Holloway could still look back towards the fringes of London across fields of waving corn.

In 1852 Holloway had to undergo the intense emotional pain of watching his beloved Elizabeth descending into an early grave, even as he himself had begun inevitable decline. After his own end came on July 21st 1854, Holloway was buried in Stoke Newington Cemetery beneath a memorial stone mistakenly inscribed with his age as 96 instead of 93, though today almost illegible from erosion. In his will Holloway left £100 to be shared out between his surviving daughters and grandchildren. Although his obituary in The Times acknowledged his work at East India House, it did not commend, or even name a single one of his volumes of verse.

And perhaps it is this, added to the fact of his early departure from his home county that explains why William Holloway was fated to become a forgotten poet. It has been Holloway the print-shop manager and mercantile clerk the press and public had remembered – not Holloway the author of a considerable literary output. But through his poems he has kept alive such poignant vignettes of rural life in Regency and Victorian Dorset: its hay-making, dairying, crafts, maypole dancing, village weddings; the schoolboys fishing a stream or truanting to watch the village blacksmith.

Besides the aforementioned, Holloway’s other anthologies are Poems on Various Occasions (1798); The Baron of Lauderbrook (1800); The Chimney Sweepers Complaint (1806); The Minor Minstrel (1808) and the Country Pastor (1812).