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December, 2009:

Robert Coward (1819-1905)

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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Born at Stourpaine into the Dorset rural community in the early part of the 19th century it is unlikely that as he grew up Robert Coward expected a great deal out of life. He was illegitimate, his mother died when he was just 11 years of age, by which time he was probably already labouring on the land and he had little or no formal education.

Robert’s mother, Repentance Coward, herself illegitimate and the daughter of Hannah Coward, was baptised at Holy Trinity church at Stourpaine on the 24th July 1785 and was buried there on the 17th January 1830, when it was recorded that she was 47 years of age. She never married but had two sons; Job, baptised 12th February 1815, he died in infancy and was buried on the 27th May 1817; also Robert, who was baptised on the 16th May 1819.

After his mother’s death in 1830 Robert was probably taken in by another branch of the Coward family living in Stourpaine or by his father and it is likely throughout this period he offered himself for work as an agricultural labourer.

On November 9th 1842 Robert, then 23 years of age, married Ann Allen. She was also from a poor Stourpaine family: the 1851 census has Ann’s parents and three of her siblings listed as paupers’ inmates of the Blandford workhouse.

When pulling together a family history a marriage certificate (after 1837) will often provide the missing links: it will confirm the ages of a couple, who their fathers were and the witness details can reinforce or dismiss ideas you might have about your ancestors’ relationships.

That is the case here. The fact that the couple and all three witnesses signed the marriage certificate with their mark tells us they were illiterate and had not benefited from a formal education. We learn that Robert Coward knew his father was Henry Horlock. One of the witnesses was Charlotte Horlock so it is reasonable to conclude that Robert was on good terms with his father and family. Interestingly, perhaps out of respect for his mother’s memory, he never changed to his father’s name. His great and great great grandfathers were also named Robert.

Children were late coming to this relationship but after five years of marriage in 1847 Robert and Ann had a daughter who they named Rhoda. She was baptised on the 2nd of May in that year. Everything we know about Robert to this point and subsequently learn about his later life leads to the conclusion that he was at heart a decent family man.

Early in 1848 disaster struck this poor family when Robert was caught poaching. We know of nothing to suggest this enterprise was for any purpose other than to put food on the table for his family. He, however, on being apprehended by the keeper would have straight away known he was in serious trouble and likely to be facing six months in jail with hard labour at the very least. Perhaps, it was the thought of being separated from his wife and baby daughter that prompted him to make a fight of it and to try to escape the clutches of the keeper. Failing, he found himself arrested and held in jail until his trial at the Dorchester Assizes on 11th of March 1848. He was charged with poaching and beating a keeper.

Dorchester Crown Court had a long reputation for handing down rough justice. In the 17th century the notorious Judge Jefferies let it be known at the start of the hearings against men involved in the Monmouth Rebellion that he was minded to be lenient: 74 men went to the gallows. Robert would have known about the seven men from Tolpuddle, like him all agricultural labourers, who had been transported to Australia on trumped up charges that they had formed a Trade Union. Later in 1856 Martha Brown was sentenced to death for defending herself against an ogre of a husband. She was publicly hanged in front of a crowd numbering thousands.

Robert would have faced his court appearance with much trepidation and without a doubt he was greatly worried for his wife, who he knew even if he was treated leniently faced a long period of having to provide for herself and their child on her own.

“The sentence of the court upon you is, that you be transported beyond the seas for a term of 7 years.” For Robert this dreadful punishment the worst he may have expected meant that once transported he would never return to England and it was unlikely he would ever see his wife and daughter again. He was just 27 years of age and he must have felt that his life was over. He left London aboard the ‘Adelaide’ on 17th August 1849 arriving in Sydney on Christmas Eve 1849.

It was surprising, but reinforces what we say earlier about his good character, that he secured his Ticket of Leave on 30th December 1849. This was incredibly quick and confirms that he must have been a model prisoner in England while waiting to sail and continued to be so on the voyage and on arrival in Australia. This did not mean he had his freedom but he was probably allowed to work for wages and live virtually free: he would not have been allowed to leave Australia until his sentence had been completed and he would have from time to time to appear before a local Justice. He may have been restricted in other ways such as the area he could work and live in and he may have been subject to a curfew.

He must have been more than a little relieved to have survived the voyage and found that his life was not after all going to be quite as bad as he had every reason to have expected it to be. But imagine his joy on learning that his wife and daughter had secured passage as assisted immigrants. Ann and Rhoda arrived in Australia on the 14th August 1851. They were not long separated their first child born in Australia in 1853 was another daughter Sara Martha.

The government needed colonists to settle in Australia but few went out and the government turned to convicts who had completed their sentences; they were offered the essentials of free land, tools, seed and livestock. These incentives meant that many accepted the offer and became landowners and farmers.

Sentence served, against all the odds family united, Robert and Ann would have seized this opportunity with both hands. They stayed in Australia and produced a further 10 children, five sons and five daughters.  When he died Robert Coward’s estate was one thousand six hundred and twenty seven pounds. This couple had managed to turn adversity to opportunity and they both enjoyed a long life. Ann died on the 24th November 1900 aged 78 years and Robert died 22nd January 1905 aged 88 years. They were living and farming in Maitland, NSW where they are buried.

Rhoda thrived and on the 25th January 1868 married William Gulliver a son of Dorset who arrived in Australia around 1849 aged 5 years. Rhoda and William went on to have eleven children and some of their descendants now live in New Zealand.

Footnote: Robert Coward’s mother, Repentance, worked as a button maker.  Her mother, Hannah Coward, was the daughter of Robert and Mary Coward and was baptised at Stourpaine 11th of February 1759 and was buried in the parish on 16th of March 1794 – a short life of just 35 years. As far as we can tell Repentance was her only child.

We have found that Robert Coward had been in trouble previously. At the time of the 1841 census he was in jail at Dorchester. There were two other members of the Coward family there as well: William (25) and James (70.)

Footnote (2) It appears that Robert Coward had an older brother, Charles. His mother Repentance Coward had him baptised at Stourpaine on the 24th of February 1811. According to information supplied by Andrew Cooper who is a direct descendant of Charles Coward, it seems both brothers were involved in the 1848 affray.

Earthquake Shocks Portland

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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During the morning of Monday the 16th of December 1735 there was an earth tremor on the Island of Portland described at the time as an earthquake. It did considerable damage but we haven’t found any reports of lives lost. A petition signed by one hundred and eighteen local men was got up and sent to London. Of interest to the family historian is the list of signatories which we have saved in an Excel file: email us if you would like a copy – it’s free.

Here is the wording of the petition headed, The Humble Petition of the Inhabitants of the Island of Portland in the County of Dorset. It was addressed to The Right Hon’ble the Lords Commissioners of his Majesties Treasury and reads:

Humbly Sheweth,

That on Monday the sixteenth of December last in the morning a great and Sudden Shock of the Earth was felt near the Quarrys at the North End of the said Island by which the Earth for more than a mile in length sunk away from the Clift and carried with it the Way leading to the Piere, Overturned the said Piere, and broke and destroyed the Crane thereon, so that at present it is Impossible to carry down from the Quarry’s or to Ship Stone as formerly, by which means his Majesty will loose entirely the Revenue of fourpence per pr.Tunn paid by all persons who Shipped Stone off the said Piere; and also the Duty for all Stone raised in the Island and payable to his Maj’tie and the Inhabitants, will be in a great measure lost, and the latter consequently deprived of his Majesty’s most gracious Bounty extended to them by his Grant of the 28th of July 1730 Until the said Way and Piere is Repaired.

Therefore Your Petitioners most humbly pray that your Honour’s will take this Unhappy Circumstance into your Consideration and Order that the same may be Repaired fit for Shipping Stone as formerly And they as in duty bound shall ever pray.

There follows a list of the 118 signatories.

Fontmell Magna

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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A large, pretty village of greensand, brick and timber-framed dwellings between high chalk downland, could fairly describe Fontmell Magna in a nutshell. To this we could add that it is quite above the average among those Dorset parishes less fortunate in that they straddle a relatively busy arterial road, in Fontmell’s case the Blandford-Shaftesbury stretch of the A350.

The name Fontmell translates as “the stream by the bare hill”, referring to the streams which flow through the surrounding meadows at the foot of the downs. But like most villages Fontmell has a long history of settlement, beginning at least as early as the Bronze Age, a time represented by two round barrows marking the resting-places of Wessex Culture chieftains. Its history in writing however begins in the 8th century, where it appears for the first time in an early Saxon charter recording that Coinred, father of King Ina, granted a deed of land in the area of the parish. Coinred does not however refer too the serfs, presumably of Romano-British stock, who must have worked this land.

Domesday Book then takes up the chronicle when in 1086, it records that among the holdings there were four mills. Such a number of mills would have needed quite a few millers to work them, and infers that as early as the late 11th century this village must have a (relatively) populous and well-developed community.

With the exception of the lower courses of its tower, the original medieval church of St. Andrew was entirely rebuilt in 1862. The parapet is copied from an original 16th century section of parapet, now on display in the north aisle. Standing in the churchyard is a memorial to Lt. Philip Salkeld, son of a former rector, acknowledging an act of outstanding military valour. During the Siege of Delhi in the Indian Mutiny of 1857, Salkeld, in the company of five other comrades, led the detail appointed to lay the explosive to blow up the Cashmere Gate on September 14th. This operation made the capture of Delhi possible, but it cost Salkeld his life after his arm was shattered by gunfire. A Sapper called Burgess then tried to light the fuse, but he too was killed, and it fell to a man called South to complete the task. Apart from the bugler, South was the only member of the party to survive. The Salkeld memorial commemorates his award of the VC – one of fewer than five Dorsetmen to earn it.

A former mill on the east side of the high street is now a residence with an attractive new façade. The mill pond, which once worked the wheel, is fed by a clear stream issuing from springs at the base of the chalk. Just a few hundred yards from its source this stream supplied the necessary clean water for the brewery on the west side of the street, for generations an industrial mainstay of the village’s economy.

It was in the adjoining house that the author, publisher and former head of Cassells, Sir Newman Flower, was born in July 1879, the eldest son of Fontmell’s brewer. In his autobiographical ‘Just as it Happened,’ Sir Newman relates some timely anecdotes presenting an interesting insight into the harsh, often uncouth day-to-day life in Fontmell during his formative years. There is the day he is reported to his father by a water bailiff for shooting a trout in the stream, and the gamekeepers in the wood who were shot at; the friends he went to school with, who perished in the trenches.

The village to the west of the main road is characteristically something of a warren of sinuous back lanes beyond the range of traffic noise. Fontmell has a post office, shop, and a neat row of cottages along the A350 facing the Crown Inn and a large brick mill behind. The cottages are thatched, probably of the 17th and 18th century, but some Victorian houses are also present nearby. A little beyond the village is the 17th century Manor Farm, typical architectural features of the period: mullioned windows with four lights (panes) and hood moulds, with stone and black-tarred barns attached. Woodbridge Mill, one-and-a-quarter miles north west, is early 19th century. One-and-a half miles to the east stands Fontmell Hill House, a grand residence built for the composer Balfour Gardiner. In 1843 Sir Richard Glyn provided Fontmell with a school, where one obligation of the girls was to sew shirts for their benefactor.

One interesting historical record of Fontmell is the village Clothing Book, a vellum-bound archive begun in 1861 by the tailoring Stainer family. The book records four generations of villagers formed a kind of savings cooperative to pay for clothing. The scheme was rather like an early form of Christmas Club and an informative insight into Fontmell’s social history.

Another is an archive kept between 1934 and 1949 by Rolf Gardiner at Springhead Farm. Long before green politics began to assert itself, Gardiner was a committed practitioner of sustainability, one of the earliest ecologists to promote organic farming. In 2003 his son, Sir Eliot Gardiner commissioned a survey of Gore Farm Forest’s ecology and archaeology, a copy of which has been donated to the archive.

This survey was effectively the springboard for what is now known as the Fontmell Magna Project. This project is in partway (though not exclusively) a response to the decline in local farming, which is why the archive team are in the process of collecting items from local farmers, so as to reconstruct something of the history of their holdings. But the Fontmell Magna Project envisages a number of phases disseminated over the coming decade. As far as funding permits each phase concerns a particular aspect of heritage, or the assets of Fontmell parish. The project is already promoting a better understanding of these heritage assets. Furthermore it is being very much youth-led. Many young people are enthusiastically involved in building up a database and running a mobile exhibition.

Volunteers are meeting monthly to sort and catalogue the treasures, while children from St. Andrew’s School are participating in a survey of local trees, which culminated in an exhibition in June 2003.

We may wonder how these children of today, had they been that age 30 years ago, would have documented one particular tree, an elm, which once occupied a pivotal position in the life and folklore of the village. The Gossip Tree doubtless furnished much-welcome shade in tortuous high summers of old. But the summer of 1976 and the added complication of Dutch Elm disease attack, proved too much for its centenarian constitution. A lime sapling, complete with commemorative plaque was planted to replace the Gossip Elm sometime after.

Perhaps it is as well the embattled old elm died more or less from natural causes rather than from a woodman’s chain saw, for a curious legend soon attached to it, saying that misfortune would befall anyone involved in cutting it down. But Fontmell retains another indigenous, possibly older legend. Any native of the village, it is said, who leaves it is destined never to return to retire there if he or she is successful in life – only failures ever come back. This myth is only likely to exercise the interest of folklorists, though curiously, when Newman Flower retired he did not return to Fontmell, but made a new home for himself in Tarrant Keyneston.

Tom Roberts – The Painter Who Captured a Continent

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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He was born into the hurly-burly of early Victorian Dorchester but laid to rest in the colonial soil of Tasmania. He showed small promise of any artistic talent as a child, yet at the end of his days his works were better known throughout the largest island outpost of the British Empire than in the land of his birth. And no-one, least of all his parents, could have imagined that his future would lie in committing the raw primeval beauty of the antipodean outback to canvas.

Thomas William Roberts was born in Dorchester on March 9th, 1856, the son of a printer and reporter, Richard Roberts, then a sub-editor of the Dorset County Chronicle. Richard had married Tom’s mother, a Londoner named Matilda Agnes Cela Evans, in Shrewsbury early in 1851, and the census of that year showed that at that time he was still living with his parents, Thomas Roberts (50), described as a Brass Founder and his wife Hannah (48) both born in Shrewsbury. By 1861 however, Richard and Matilda had moved to Dorchester, having taken up residence in house in Fordington High Street. Their household consisted of Thomas, then 5, a one-year-old daughter, Alice Matilda, and an 11-year-old housemaid named Mary Wills.

Tom attended Dorchester Grammar School where he received a thorough grounding in the classics, learning quotations in Latin he was able to recall years later. During these schooldays his greatest accolade was winning a prize for scripture he later explained, “not by answering the question directly but by imaginatively writing on a related subject.”

On 30th December 1868, when Thomas was about 13 his father who was then editor of the Dorchester newspaper died aged only 41 at Wollaston Villas, All Saints Dorchester, leaving the family impoverished. His widow  then courageously resolved that she and her children should leave to seek a new life in the then developing colony of Australia. A married sister  had herself emigrated to there some years before, so that the sisters could be re-united. Tom Roberts’ first home in his adopted country was a modest one in Dight Street, Collingwood, a suburb of Melbourne.

But the position Roberts was now in determined that he could not resume any schooling, but had to find some employment at once. He soon found a position as an assistant to a local commercial photographer, but the job entailed long hours for small pay. To supplement a meagre income his mother took on the job of making school satchels as an outworker under her brother-in-law, who ran a leather goods business. During this time Tom would help his mother in the evenings by cutting out the straps for the bags. He would later write that his mother “was the bravest woman I ever met.”

After a time, Thomas’ “bulldog” qualities helped him find better employment with Stewarts, the leading commercial photographers in Melbourne. Here he progressed rapidly and showed an early artistic bent when, for a commercial portrait, he hit on the idea of using a background of tea-tree boughs instead of the conventional classical one of mock pillars and curtains fashionable at the time.

The government had embarked on a programme of establishing design schools in the state capitals and Melbourne (Victoria) was no exception. By the time he was just 19 Tom had become Stewarts deputy manager yet he took a course to study design at a new state design school founded at Collingwood, where he won the annual prize in 1875.

From this school Roberts progressed to the National Gallery Art School, usually known by its pet-name of “The Tank.” Here his talent caught the attention of the drawing class overseer, Thomas Clarke, who advised him to go to study in Europe. The gallery had only an un-coordinated training and no life-class, the training consisting mainly of copying the gallery’s own mediocre pictures. Taking the school’s dissolute students under his own wing, Roberts broke away to set up on his own.

Stewart allowed Tom to attend a half-day-a-week painting class, where he exhibited his first major picture in the photographic studio. The sale of this picture, together with earnings from local newspaper reproductions and other monochrome drawings, paid Roberts his passage back to England in 1881.

The following year found the now fully professional, dedicated 25-year-old artist studying hard at the Royal Academy. His drawings were in demand from ‘The Graphic’ and other periodicals. But then another person entered his life who was to have a marked influence upon him: painter Bastien Lepage, a protégé of the French impressionists under who’s spell Roberts himself was to fall. Studying their work, Roberts then eschewed the conventional academic school for a broader horizon.

The flourishing painter’s next move was to undertake a tour of Spain in the company of Dr. William Maloney, the artist John Russell and Sydney Russell, an architect. At one time the four nearly became embroiled in Spain’s political upheavals as partisans, but an encounter with Barrau and Casas, two first-rate pupils of Gerome was to have an outstanding impact on Roberts and his Australian contemporaries in turn. They taught him that in painting he should first seek ‘the general impression of colour.’ On his return from Spain Robert’s sketches of the country made a deep impression on Arthur Streeton and Charles Condor, two fellow artists with whom he was soon to share a close professional relationship.

However for a time Roberts fell in with an artist called McCubbin, with whom he set up a painting camp at Box Hill, Melbourne. Here they were joined by Louis Abrahams though Roberts, not content with mere landscapes, sought to record the active life of the bush. After a time Roberts and McCubbin rented a coastal shack at Mentone near Melbourne, where the former first encountered Streeton, a talented lithographer, and invited him to make a trio at Mentone. Visiting Sydney, Roberts then fell in with Charles Condor, who extended the specialist school to a quartet.

In 1887 Streeton realised that a derelict 8-roomed timber house he had come across on a hill above Heidelburg would be the ideal homebase for a painting school. The building commanded a spectacular view over the Yarra basin to the Blue Hills, and Streeton was soon joined by Roberts and Conder. It was here, between 1889 and 1891 that Roberts painted two of what are considered his finest canvases: “The Breakaway” and “Shearing the Rams.” In 1895 he began another great impressionistic bush ranging picture “Bailed Up,” but then put it aside for another 30 years before finishing it.

Conder later left the school to work in Paris, but not before the group staged an exhibition of 9×5 inch “cigar-box lid” impressionistic paintings in Melbourne. By then Australia was in the grip of a recession, though Roberts was largely unaffected and in 1896 became engaged to and married a local woman, Elizabeth Williamson. Their only child, a son Caleb, was born in 1898.

In 1901 Tom Roberts was again preparing to return to England when he held, at the Society of Artists rooms in Pitt Street, Sydney, an exhibition of paintings for sale at between two and seventy guineas. But then the landing of a prestigious commission forced the artist to abandon his travel plans. It was federation year, the event marking the historic unification of the seven colonial states into the Commonwealth of Australia. To mark the occasion the Australian Art Society commissioned a Melbourne artist for an 18×12 foot canvas for the opening of the Parliament building by the Duke of York. When this painter had to withdraw due to illness Roberts was offered the commission instead.

The artist then embarked on a tour of the country, sketching all the political figures and scenes to be featured. Although the fee was 1000 guineas, Roberts would come to regret his decision to accept the mammoth project, which would take him two years to complete. The picture is now mounted in St. James’ Palace, London.

By now Roberts was back in England with his family in hopeful expectation of further portrait commissions. Troubled by the notion that his technical skill was falling below his earlier high standard, he seriously considered painting ‘pot-boilers’ for the London market. The dark clouds passed however, after friends prevailed upon him to exhibit at the Walkers Gallery in New Bond Street.

On the outbreak of the First World War, Tom Roberts and his friends rushed to enlist in the volunteers. Tom was posted to carry out menial tasks at Wandsworth Military Hospital, giving up painting entirely for he was never offered an official artist position. Demobbed as a Sergeant in the RAMC, he returned alone to Australia in 1919 for a one-year extended vacation, retreating to the Dandenong Ranges to seek solitude and inspiration for more landscapes. The following March he held a one-man exhibition, returning yet again to England at the end of 1920 to rejoin Elizabeth and Caleb.

This last furlough in his mother country lasted three years until 1923, whereupon Roberts returned with his family to his beloved Dandenongs, this time for good. He built a cottage home “Talisman” in the village of Kallista, and resumed his painting, seemingly amid a whirl or renewed creative energy and discernment. In 1927, when Roberts was 72, Elizabeth died, yet the aging painter could not remain inactive, and the following year he visited Apollo Bay, the Goulburn Valley and Tasmania.

Jean Boyes, for sometime a friend of Tom, became the widower’s second wife in August 1928, the couple making a new home for themselves in Tasmania. In 1930 they returned to Kallista, and it was here, on September 14th, 1931 that Thomas Roberts died, aged 75. In accordance with his will his body was taken back to Tasmania and buried in the quiet churchyard of the village of Illawarra.

Truly, Thomas Roberts was ahead of his time as a pioneer global commuter in an age when many country people would never travel more than a few miles from their place of birth. His is a legacy Dorset can be proud of in having given birth to him.

This Bounteous Breed

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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One amazing fact about sheep is that there are more breeds of this domesticated animal in Britain than anywhere else in the world. But one breed above almost any other, through the human intervention of cross-breeding, has acquired the distinction of being especially adaptable to variable climates: the Dorset Horn.

The history of this handsome and hardy breed reaches back many centuries. South West Horn sheep already widespread on the downland of Wessex during the Roman occupation and by 1086 and beyond these sheep continued to have an important role in the local agrarian economy. The Dorset Horn, together with the Wiltshire Horn sheep, is believed to be progeny of the South-West Horn type. It is thought that the Dorset Horn had its origin many years before, some experts believing that the modern Dorsets carry genes of prehistoric flocks.

Then during the reign of Elizabeth I certain ships bearing cargoes of live sheep were shipwrecked off Portland during storms. Live sheep were then taken ashore, where they were cross-bred with native Dorset horns producing an offspring with a strain of Merino. The cross-breeding explains one of the Dorset’s most endearing and commercially valuable traits: its thick, short-wool coat, but also the characteristic pinkish face and the ewe’s ability to come into season throughout the year, enabling a farmer to benefit from the most profitable time of the year.

Ewes impregnated by rams in April would be walked to the sheep fairs in September where buyers from as far away as Edinburgh would buy the in-lamb ewes to satisfy the demands of the Christmas dinner table. In the early 1800’s a farmer at Plush called Michael Miller held the last pure Dorset Horn flock. The Dorset Horn was created by crossing the Somerset Horn with the Dorset Horned sheep, and Richard Seymour, a breeder at Bradpole in the 1830’s is widely acknowledged as the earliest improver of the breed. The number of Dorset Horns in the county appears to have reached its limit in the mid 19th century, but declined thereafter, so that by 1900 the number was down by fifty per cent. Another noted breeder/improver of Dorset Horns was Alfred Johnson, a former resident of Symondsbury House, who was also the first to export some of the rams to Australia and the first to make a hundred guineas from the sale of a ram.

In 1956 Mr J. Martin Lenthall of manor Farm, Burton Bradstock, worked a passage to Australia with a consignment of sheep, but also with the intention of carrying out a bit of sleuthing. For two years he went around investigating cattle and sheep stations to see whether hornless sheep were being developed. On arriving in Tasmania he was intrigued to discover a flock very similar to Dorset Horns but without horns. Lenthall returned with a stud ram and a ram lamb – the ancestors of the first Poll (hornless) Dorset Sheep. In 1966 Lenthall left the farm that had been in is family for several generations to begin a new life on a farm called Bradstock Downs near Albany in Western Australia. One of his married daughters (Mrs Beverley Hole) carried on the Lenthall tradition in Dorset.

Like the Dorset Horn, the Poll is unique in being able to breed at any time of the year and produces one of the highest quality wools completely free from grey fibres. The fleece is also very white, even before scouring. Since the 1900’s the breed has spread throughout Britain and more recently into Europe, since like its Dorset Horn ancestor it is able to cope with the varied climates of the continental region.

Physically the Dorset Horn breed has many stirling qualities. Overall, individuals are long in the body and have a very square chunky appearance. The horns are borne by ewes as well as rams and are especially massive, growing upward and then coiling forward close to the muzzle. The head is broad, full and open, the nostrils well covered and the nose pink. The neck is of short to medium length, strong, muscular and well-sprung from the shoulders; the chest is well forward, full and deep. A Dorset Horn’s hind quarters are full, with deeply muscled thighs and the legs are of medium length. There is a find, downy type of fleece free of kemp (course hair in wool) and colour, having firm handling.

Dorset Horn rams have a bold, muscular appearance, with a good length and a strong robust character. The head is one of great beauty with long, strong horns curving downwards and then forwards in graceful curves. Ewes are bright sheep with a feminine appearance and smaller, more delicate horns.

Temperamentally the breed is a docile one. In Britain Dorset Horns and Dorset Polls are naturally found mainly in the south-west region, though cross-breeds are more widely distributed. Because of their ability to cope with various climatic conditions and their other outstanding qualities the Dorset Horn (and particularly the Dorset Polls) are now widely distributed throughout the world, being especially popular in Australia, New Zealand and the USA. Poll meat is tasty and succulent with a high meat-to-fat and bone ratio suiting the needs of the post-millennium market.

Hiring Fairday

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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Imagine a bright rather cold morning in February with the promise of a fine day ahead. We are in Dorchester during the 1870’s on Candlemas or Hiring Fairday; shops are open early and full of goods and novelties including all the latest fashions displayed to best advantage.

Farmers, craftsmen, and men seeking employment, are in town along with the recruiting Sergeants for Her Majesty’s Army. Women and girls are here from villages for many miles round and with them are the prospects of shop sales reaching levels not seen since Christmas. Shopkeepers will be looking to serve the ladies with full purses and good credit, while the young girls with little to spend will stretch out the day enjoyably window shopping.

As dawn breaks, booths are set up outside of The Corn Exchange and St. Peter’s Church; from these souvenirs are sold including cakes made to represent Kings, Queens and Horses, all lavishly decorated with gold or silver tinsel.

The town is alive to the sound of men and horses as farmers’ dog-carts and farm wagons laden with produce roll into Dorchester from towns and villages all over the County. Barking sheep dogs, bleating sheep, and squealing pigs are accompanied in the lower registers by the lowing of cattle and percussion, provided by the rattling and ringing of the brasses and bells on the horses, which completes the cacophony ensuring the residents wake early.

Horses with manes and tails plaited are lined up on the north side of High East Street and sold in the street, occasionally they are raced up and down the street to show off their paces accompanied by much whip cracking and shouting. Some of the pigs are in pens outside The Phoenix Tavern and sold from the pavement. Cattle and sheep are on the fairground (nowadays the town gardens.) Farmers inspect the latest agricultural implements on display by the Town Pump.

North Square hosts a huge display of dairy produce including mountains of cheese including Blue Vinny and lots of real Dorset butter, which is slightly salted and sold in large earthen-ware pots. A quack doctor or two are about the town offering miracle cures and there are itinerant Ballard singers selling songs. In the Corn Exchange farmers and corn merchants haggle over deals for wheat, barley and oats.

Men seeking employment wear a wisp of straw in their hats; a signal to farmers that they are for hire but the Army Enlisting Sergeants will seek out the fittest and will be quick to tell them “nothing could be better than to serve Queen and Country, and at the same time see the world.”

As for the young men seeking employment it goes well enough and they are quickly offered contracts to start with their new masters on Lady Day – April 6th; they can enjoy the rest of the day. Not all of the older men will find employment even though they will tell you there is plenty of work left in them.  They trudge back to their villages in despair and for some the workhouse beckons.

As the day wears on farmers and visitors from the outlying towns and villages hurry to complete their business in time to call at The King’s Arms Hotel or The Antelope for refreshments before setting-off home.

By early evening all the shops are closed up and the traders are busy making up their books and counting the takings before putting on a warm overcoat and retiring to their favourite inn to discuss the day’s business with friends. As for those several young men who took the Queen’s shilling and exchanged a wisp of straw for a red, white and blue ribbon, they will be wondering what adventures lay in store for them.

Lillington – The Parish Church of St. Martin

Dec 23rd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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Hidden away off the beaten track about three miles south of Sherborne is the small and entirely rural parish of Lillington. It lacks all but the basic amenities but still has a place of worship – the Parish Church of St. Martin. I was visiting the village in search of a baptism record dating back nearly two hundred years and found the entry I was looking for in the church register, which is still in use today.

Lillington is home to about 80 people, approximately half that of the population recorded in the 1851cenus; figures that explain why it will be a few years yet before the church register moves to Dorchester to enjoy retirement on the shelves of the Archive Service. In 1851 the Loader family accounted for a third of the residents with the Banger; Bartlett; Bow; Dunford; Jeanes; King; Mash; Mitchell and White families all present here as well.

At the north end of the parish the church is a close neighbour of the old barn, once a part of Manor Farm and in recent times tastefully converted for residential use. The medieval fishpond is nowadays inhabited by ducks and can be viewed from St. Martins. A decade into the reign of Queen Victoria saw the parishioners planning restoration works for their 13th century church and a year later in 1848 work started under the supervision of Withers of Sherborne.

St. Martins is built with local rubble and faced with the same material; roofs are covered with stone slates and the interior is plastered and finished with a traditional lime wash. It comprises: chancel, nave, west tower, south chapel with entry by way of the north porch. The south door was blocked off during the Victorian restoration because of the access it allowed to a penetrating draft from the prevailing weather. The parishioners at that time installed a furnace outside of the church that provided an early form of under floor heating; the air ducts can still be seen under the door mats in the north porch. The upper part of what was the south door is now a window with a piscina in the recess.

The tower, added in the 15th century, is of three stages, topped off with an embattled parapet with gargoyles and pinnacles. There is a square stair turret on the north wall leading up to the belfry which houses five bells; the oldest is c.1400, the belfry windows are of two lights. The west window above the tower door is of three lights and in the south wall of the centre stage there is a window of two lights.

The narrow late 13th century nave allows for a four seat pew on either side of the central aisle and has a 15th century pointed wagon ceiling with plastered panels, moulded ribs and carved bosses. The present surveyor responsible for the church has been heard to wonder aloud why Mr. Withers overlooked to provide an access point to the void above the ceiling. In the north wall of the nave, east of the porch, is a 15th century three light window with hood mould and perpendicular tracery and there is a small rectangular window west of the porch. In the south wall of the nave is a 13th century two-light window.

At the west end of the nave is the font: octagonal bowl with quatrefoiled panel in each face enclosing shields and roses alternately, on an octagonal stem, of the 15th century.

You enter into the nave from the north porch which has a 17th century round arched doorway. The inner doorway has a pointed arch and a 15th century oak door. Directly opposite is the south chapel added in the 18th century with south and east windows that look quite modern. From the south window you can look out across the churchyard to the pond. George Hamilton Fletcher of Leweston Manor lost his son Gareth a 2nd Lieut. in the Grenadier Guards and his son-in-law Laurence R. Fisher-Rome a Lt. Col from the same regiment; both men were killed in France during the early months of 1915. They are remembered by a memorial on the west wall of the chapel.

During the 15th century the chancel was rebuilt and the east window of two lights with perpendicular tracery has been restored possibly in recent times; certainly the story depicted in the window is modern, possibly a war memorial. The chancel benefits from windows in the north and south walls both of the 15th century and both of two lights. The chancel has a plastered pointed barrel ceiling; the arch is later, probably 18th century.

Monuments within the church and outside in the churchyard include mention of Thomas Gollop and his wife Jane 1824; Thomas Gollop 1793; Samuel Whetcombe 1739 and his son Robert 1737; Edward Jeffrey 1712; Dorothy, wife of Edward Jeffrey Sen., 1705; Nekles Riol and his wife Allse 1693; George Hankins 1671 and Frances, his wife, 1696; Ralph and Thomas Gollop with defaced shield-of-arms, date uncertain but definitely 18th century; Lawrence Cole 1669; and Mary Parry 1708.

St. Martins is a small, attractive rural church part of the Benefice of Sherborne and services continue to be held every Sunday throughout the year but the church is locked at other times. We thank Mrs. Messenger, the churchwarden, for allowing us to inspect the registers, showing us around, and allowing us to take some photographs inside the building.

James Hamilton – Architect of Regency Weymouth

Dec 22nd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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Along the esplanade at Weymouth, where stands an ornamental clock tower, is a multi-storey Regency terrace now considered as one of the finest developments of the period anywhere in England. This Georgian terrace is the Royal Crescent; but what could this development possibly have in common with the White Horse chalk down monument at Osmington? The answer is that these two disparate landmarks were both the conception of James Hamilton, a somewhat obscure figure among 18th century architects, but one who evidently enriched the Weymouth townscape as perhaps no other draughtsman has.

The Osmington White Horse had its origin on Hamilton’s drawing board in 1808 as a commission from the citizens of Weymouth for an equestrian memorial to King George III once he was no longer able to “take the waters” at the resort after 1805 due to his worsening mental illness. But these two undertakings are not the only marks this architect has left upon the soil of Dorset.

Hamilton was born in 1748, but to this day little is known about his origins, family background or education, so it is not certain whether he was born in Dorset or elsewhere. It has been suggested he may have been a descendant of the “Johannes Hamiltonius Britannicus” who sculpted a fine monument to the memory of Robert Napier that can be seen at Puncknowle.

Although nothing is known as to his education or whether he studied architecture Hamilton almost certainly would have been trained in building crafts before setting himself up as an architect. But the profession under that name did not become recognised until the 1750’s and it was commonplace for practitioners to come from a wide variety of backgrounds. For Hamilton, that background seems to have been working as a mason or stonecutter, since there is a record of a James Hamilton of Melcombe Regis being employed as a mason in the Portland Quarry under William Tyler RA, the architect who designed Bridport Town Hall. Since this building dates from 1786, Hamilton may not have established his architectural practise before this time.

There is evidence however, that Hamilton was practising architecture more fully by 1790 at the latest. This comes from a certain Joshua Carter of Bridport, who sometime after 1787 “…began to rebuild his father’s house, employing a James Hamilton, architect, of Weymouth, a contractor in Portland stone.” And Hamilton did work on the rebuilding of the south east wall of the Cobb at Lyme Regis in 1795.

In 1797 Hamilton is mentioned in Weymouth Corporation records for the first time. That year Messrs Sumersvall & Hamilton undertook to repair the inner and outer piers of the harbour. This shows that the architect was evidently still working as a contractor when not in his drawing office, and in association with a Mr Welsford he applied to Weymouth Corporation on behalf of the Protestant Dissenters for a lease of land to enable their Chapel to be enlarged in 1802. Hamilton also designed the Dissenter’s Chapel in West Street in 1804 and, in 1805, the Methodist Chapel in Lower Bond Street, though both of these buildings have since been demolished.

Then three years later came Hamilton’s great design for the imposing Royal Crescent. The Osmington White Horse, on the other hand, was designed and executed on a grand scale, being 320 feet high, yet, as the Dorchester & Sherborne Journal of October 7th 1808 noted: “the likeness of the King is well preserved and the symmetry of the horse is so complete as to be a credit to Mr Hamilton of this town, for its execution.” The equestrian figure of George III is portrayed mounted on his favourite grey charger.

In 1802 John Herbert Browne, a town councillor of Weymouth, recorded that the Council had resolved to put up a statue of the King in the town itself, to honour George’s contribution to popularising Weymouth as a fashionable resort. The figure was to be made from stoneware produced by Coade & Sealy of Lambeth. Having sought approval from the king, John Sealy went to the palace in 1803 and spent about three-quarters of an hour with the King to obtain a measure of the likeness upon which the statue is based. On the basis of this material, James Hamilton then drew up a blueprint, which was then sculpted at the Coade & Sealy works before shipment aboard the ‘Lovell’ to its permanent site in Weymouth.

The cost to Sealy of Hamilton’s design turned out to be greater than that for the statue itself. The finished work is mounted on a square pedestal standing on a plinth flanked by a lion and a unicorn. A full-length robed effigy of the King wearing the Order of the Garter and holding a sceptre stands before a smaller pedestal surmounted by an imperial crown. The statue was unveiled by the Prince of Wales in the presence of the Duke of Kent, Princess Mary & Princess Amelia in a ceremony of great splendour in October 1810.

It was likely also that Hamilton was responsible for designing the houses numbered 7 to 14 in Gloucester Row in 1790; and, between 1811 and 1815, those in Johnstone Row. At 3.00 am on Monday, March 27th 1815 a ship called the Alexander was wrecked on the Chesil opposite Wyke, with the loss of 130 passengers and crew. On hearing of the tragedy, James Hamilton designed a plaque to commemorate the dead, which was put up in Wyke Church in 1816.

Hamilton’s work however, was not confined to Weymouth’s town centre or, in one instance, even within the actual borders of the county. The architect turned his attention to buildings that could adorn the outlying villages, such as Hamilton House in Chamberlaine Road, Wyke Regis. Research based on the 1819-25 Grove Diaries carried out by Stan Pickett of Weymouth has revealed that Thomas Grove commissioned Hamilton to design and oversee the building of a “charming mansion” at Berwick St. John in Wiltshire. This work occupied Hamilton for two-and-a-half years from 1809 to 1811, a commission that evidently required the architect, by then in his sixties, to lodge frequently at Berwick so he could be on site to supervise the construction.

During this period the architect was certainly responsible for drafting the plans of the Parish Church of St. Mary at Melcombe, built between 1815 and 1817, replacing an earlier church on the site built in 1605. Hamilton’s church of Portland stone, with triple-arched portico, pilasters, square podium and black-faced clock surmounted by a cupola with ball-finial supported by eight slender Roman Doric columns, clearly manifests either conscious or subconscious modelling upon the façade of Bridport Town Hall. Possibly Hamilton poached Tyler’s basic design for the latter, but adding modifications of his own originality. Rather critically, this design has been described as having: “a monumental west front of some distinction, but the building is of particular interest as an expression of the empiricism of a provincial architect, acquainted with, but possessing little knowledge of the neo-classical style of the period…” However, the pediment projecting from a plain obtusely-gabled parapet wall is typical of a Hamilton design.

Regarding the particulars of Hamilton’s marital status, rather than his family background, we are rather better provided for. Hamilton was twice married, his first wife having apparently died early in the marriage at an unrecorded date, as the register of St. Anne’s Church at Radipole records that in 1814 a James Hamilton, widower, of Melcombe Regis married Ann Croad, a spinster of Melcombe. By his first wife Hamilton had a son, John, who family tradition relates was the sculptor of the monument to Princess Sophia of Gloucester in St. Georges Chapel, Windsor. Ann was the daughter of Caleb and Mary Croad of Preston, having been baptised on February 23rd, 1785, making her just 29 at the time of her marriage to a man 39 years her senior. Despite his age, Hamilton fathered five children by Anne, baptised as follows: Henrietta (1818); Ann Augusta (1819); Edwin John (March 1824); William John (September 1824) and Edwin Charles (1828).

It is generally considered that Hamilton’s career as an architect effectively ended in 1816, his last project possibly being St. Mary’s in Melcombe. Yet as late as 1824 he is still described as such on his children’s baptism certificates.

James Hamilton died in 1829, aged 81. The Dorset County Chronicle announced his death on January 15th with the words: “on the 13th inst. Jas Hamilton, architect, far advanced in years, leaving a wife and family to deplore his loss.” As he had been a member of a Masonic lodge “Brother” Hamilton was granted a Masonic funeral with 39 other brethren in attendance. This took place on the 19th of January with a procession from the Hamilton’s home in Frederick Place to the Masonic Hall, thence to Wyke Parish Church where the service was conducted by the Revd. George Chamberlaine.

This innovative architect’s passing however, left behind him a bitter legacy for his grieving family to endure. Three months later his widow, Ann, was compelled out of some desperation to seek help from the London-based Masonic Board of Benevolence. She was, she declared, “left destitute with five young children to care for.” As Hamilton’s will has never been found, it is not clear why this was so, but the MBB’s records show that the institution awarded Ann £10, a considerable sum in those days. More ignominiously, it would have been possible for John Hamilton, James’ son from his first marriage, to claim his father’s entire estate if he had died intestate.

On December 3rd, 1831, the Hamilton’s youngest child, Edwin Charles, died and was buried in Wyke Churchyard, possibly in the grave of his father as no separate headstone bearing his name was ever set up. Ann lived on at Frederick Place until sometime between 1851 and 1861. The 1841 census is the last to record Ann’s daughter Augusta, then 20, as still living with her mother at home.

When the King Came to Stay

Dec 22nd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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He was “a tall man, above two yards high, with dark brown hair scarcely to be distinguished from black.” That is the description of the 21-year-old King Charles II posted about the countryside by Cromwell’s men as they looked everywhere for him, encouraged in their search by the prize of £1,000 on his head.

The King realized on the 3rd of September, 1651 that the “battle was so absolutely lost as to be beyond hope of recovery.” Almost alone except for Henry Lord Wilmot the King escaped from the Worcester battlefield and headed for Wales but finding the River Severn too heavily guarded he turned south towards Bristol, where he hoped to find a ship to take him to France. No ship could be found in Bristol and it became clear he must use a south coast port to make his get-away.

Charles owed much to the loyalty and imagination of his Roman Catholic supporters in whose houses he stayed as he made his way south. He reached Abbots Leigh, the home of Sir George Norton, on the 12th of September where he was recognised by the butler, John Pope, who suggested Trent for his next refuge. It was quiet, had no particular strategic value for the Parliamentarians and it was in a straight line from Bristol to the coast and only a score and ten miles away from a safe passage to France; it was the ideal bolt hole while plans were made for his escape.

Trent is one of those border parishes that over the years has gone to bed in Dorset and awoken in Somerset and vice-versa. Since 1895 Trent, a short step north-west of the town of Sherborne, has been in Dorset but in the mid 17th century it was a part of Somerset and The Manor House was home to a family well known for their Royalist sympathies: the Wyndhams. Edmund Wyndham had married the King’s nurse, Christabel Pyne, and had served under Lord Wilmot during the early days of the Civil War.

Lord Wilmot travelled ahead to warn the Wyndhams. Travelling behind and staying overnight at the Castle Cary home of Edward Kyrton the King was accompanied by Jane Lane and Henry Lascelles. The party arrived at Trent about ten on the morning of the 17th of September. Playing the role of servant to Jane Lane the King was wearing a suit of grey cloth; the small group was quickly ushered into the house and out of sight of any busy-body neighbours. The Manor House is only 100 yards from the parish church.

Francis Wyndham was despatched to arrange a passage for the King. He called first on Sir John Strangeways at Melbury but neither he nor his sons could offer any suggestions although they contributed £100 to the royal purse. Wyndham travelled on to Lyme Regis and for a consideration of £60 secured a passage with a Stephen Limbry, who was taking a cargo from Charmouth to St. Malo on the 22nd of September. The cover story was that a merchant and his servant were escaping from their creditors.

The King, Juliana Conigsby, Wyndham, Lord Wilmot and Henry Peters, Wyndham’s servant, departed from Trent. They met Captain Ellesdon, who had made the introduction to Stephen Limbry, at a house on the hills above Charmouth where final plans were made. But not for the last time an element of farce crept into the best laid plans in the King’s bid to reach France.

Francis Wyndham and his servant waited throughout the night on the beach at Charmouth but Limbry failed to make the rendezvous. The King with Wilmot and Juliana Coningsby playing the role of eloping lovers took rooms at the Queen’s Arms. The party left Charmouth for Bridport in the morning and, it seems, not a moment too soon for the blacksmith had noticed Lord Wilmot’s horse had been shod in three counties including Worcester.

Henry Peters was sent to Lyme Regis to find out why Limbry had not appeared. It seems his wife had guessed her husband was embarked on a dangerous mission and decided to lock him in his room and threatened to report him if he attempted to escape.

At Bridport there were Parliamentarian troops waiting to leave for the Channel Islands so the party couldn’t stay there and set off again, fortunately deciding to leave the main Bridport to Dorchester road and head for Broadwindsor just before a troop of Roundhead soldiers led by a Captain Macey began a search for them.

The landlord of the Inn at Broadwindsor knew Wyndham and gave them a room upstairs.  Farce again played a part but this time working to the King’s advantage. The constable arrived at the Inn with forty Roundhead soldiers to billet. At about midnight one of the women following the soldiers gave birth in the Inn to a particularly noisy baby. The parish officials, overseers and churchwardens, were more interested to find out who the father was and avoid a charge on the parish chest than they were to investigating rumours that the King was in the vicinity. In all the confusion the royal party made their escape and returned to Trent.

His presence was the cause of much anxiety and apprehension to the lady of the house and her mother-in-law, Lady Wyndham, as they guarded against all contingencies. It is recorded that on the King’s first arrival at The Manor House Ann Wyndham was overcome with emotion by the sight of “so glorious a prince thus eclipsed” and paid him “the homage of tears.” The consequences of capture were serious indeed for the King but all of his supporters who actively assisted him, if caught, would likely suffer a similar fate. One has to wonder if the Wyndhams were as overjoyed to have him as their guest a second time.

The local tailor warned them that local supporters of Cromwell had their suspicions about the guests and that a raid on the Manor House was planned. On another occasion Anne had seen a troop of Roundhead soldiers in Sherborne and entreated the king to go to his privy chamber, probably a priest’s hiding place. Colonel Wyndham let it be known that his guest was his relative Col. Bullen Reymes and he would show himself at church that Sunday.

Lord Wilmot had been despatched from Broadwindsor to Salisbury to rendezvous with other supporters and make plans to get the King away via the port of Shoreham. On his return to Trent Henry Wilmot was not best pleased to find that it was his turn to play a role; that of Col. Bullen Reymes, who he resembled in build and stature.

Now it was the turn of black comedy rather than farce too come to the King’s aid. The King in conversation with the diarist Samuel Pepys after the restoration recalled hearing the church bells ringing to celebrate his death. He told Pepys: “There was a rogue, a trooper come out of Cromwell’s army that was telling the people he had killed me, and that was my buff coat which he had on; upon which, most of the village being fanatics, they were ringing bells and making a bonfire of joy of it.” The King may have owed his life to that rogue trooper who having hood winked the local Protestants for his own aggrandisement had successfully diverted their attention from the guest at the Manor House.

On the 6th of October Charles was able to take his leave “of the old Lady Wyndham, the Colonel’s lady and family, not omitting the meanest of them that served him.” He set off with Juliana Coningsby riding pillion behind him, accompanied by Col. Robert Phelips of Montacute and Henry Peters. They made for Wincanton and Mere and on, without mishap, to Shoreham on the Sussex Coast where on the 15th of October he set sail on the brig ‘Surprise’ and into exile that was to last for nine years.

Some in the villagers of Trent must have guessed who was staying with the Wyndhams and for whatever reason hesitated to turn Charles in. The local Protestants and especially those of non conformist persuasion would have been livid when they realised he had been living amongst them and they had failed to capture the Papist King.

Trent – St. Andrews Church

Dec 22nd, 2009
by Dorset Ancestors.
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On an autumn afternoon the parish of Trent is a picture of tranquillity and belies the fact that it has been a refuge for a Catholic King of England and a retirement home for an Archbishop of Canterbury and judging by the bullet holes in the church weather vane it has also seen turbulent times as well.

These days the parish is on the Dorset side of the Dorset/Somerset divide being about equal distance from the Somerset town of Yeovil and Sherborne in Dorset. Trent is a quiet rural parish and besides farming and some fine houses is home to little more than a pub, the Rose and Crown, and the parish church which is dedicated to St. Andrew.

For a few days in September of 1651, unknown to most residents of the village, the Catholic King Charles II was hiding in the Manor House just one hundred yards from the church. Some of the more fanatical Protestant dissenters had their suspicions about who the mysterious guest of the Wyndham family was and were secretly planning to raid the house but then events took an ironic twist: a soldier arrived in the village claiming to have personally killed the King. The Protestants celebrated the news by ringing the church bells and making a bonfire, their plans to raid the Manor House quickly forgotten. Rather than killing the King the soldier probably saved his life!

Walking through the tidy and well kept-up churchyard you pass-by a tall memorial; the lower part has stood here since the 15th century but it was damaged during the Civil War and was only restored in the 20th century as a memorial to the dead of World War I.

Continue on past the south porch entrance to the church to the western edge of the churchyard and you will find, unusually in my experience of visiting churches, a small building housing a public lavatory and washroom kept to a high standard.

Entrance to the church is through the south porch where a notice hangs: “All Persons are requested to take off, Pattens and Cloggs before entering the Church.” Looking to the west end of the nave there is a door of 15th century origin which leads into the modern vestry. The window above the doorway is of the 15th century and of three lights as are the two windows in the north wall of the nave, though they have been much restored. The two windows in the south wall are modern. The roof of the nave is 19th century.

The pews are worth more than a passing mention. Obviously pre-Reformation and probably carved in the early 16th century, some show floral designs, others figures of people, beasts, birds and lettering. It is said these along with other images, crucifixes and candlesticks were removed and hidden from a troop of Parliamentary soldiers sent to Trent in 1643 on the orders of the Puritan Committee to demolish “all Monuments of Superstition and Idolatry.” This is when the upper part of the churchyard memorial mentioned earlier was destroyed.

Looking east towards the choir and chancel we see first the screen which is said to have come from Glastonbury Abbey. It dates from the 15th century. Behind the screen the choir and chancel and a large east window of four lights with similar windows but of only three lights in the north and south walls.

You are asked not to enter the north or Manor chapel but there are steps you can mount to see in. The chapel houses three effigies; the oldest probably being of Sir Roger Wyke who married a lady of Trent. Sir Roger died about 1380 and is represented as a knight in armour. The second is probably of John Franks. He was a sergeant-at-law and a local man who became Master of the Rolls and for a short time acted as Lord Chancellor to King Henry VI: he died about 1438. The 19th century effigy is of the Revd. William Turner, Rector of Trent from 1835 to 1875; it was his wife who founded the almshouses. Apparently the effigy was carved in 1853 and kept in the rectory coach house until his death in 1875. Mr Turner and his wife are both buried in the churchyard though a vault was prepared for them.

There is a small table surrounded by several chairs and the chapel is lit by three modern windows in the north wall and a restored early 14th century three light window in the east wall which depicts the military saints; St. George; St. Martin and St. Michael. The window remembers General Lord Rawlinson who died in 1925. As you peer into the Manor chapel you will notice the arch of 13th or early 14th century origin. The mirror writing on the arch reads: “All flesh is grass and the glory of it is as the floure of the feilde” (Isaiah Chapter 40, verse 6 and Psalm 103, verse 15.) The mirror writing was supposed to remind the ladies of the manor (this is where they sat) of their religious duties if they looked at a mirror during the service.

The south transept area is now largely a memorial to Lord Fisher of Lambeth, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1945 to 1961. His contributions to the religious and social life of the nation are many but he will be mostly remembered for the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II in Westminster Abbey on the 22nd of June 1953. Earlier, in 1947, he had married the then Princess Elizabeth to Prince Phillip, Duke of Edinburgh. On his retirement he came to Trent where it is said he achieved his ambition to become the assistant parish priest. He attracted large congregations when he preached here and in the neighbouring Comptons. He died peacefully in the village on the 15th of September 1972 and his funeral was held in the church on the 20th of September. Afterwards his coffin was lowered into the vault under the 15th century churchyard memorial. The vault originally intended for the former rector William Turner.

It was the Archbishop’s suggestion that the south transept became the baptistry. The font is probably Victorian, though the elaborately carved cover is of the 15th century. On display here is one of the Archbishop’s copes.

The south transept is the ground floor of the tower and spire. St. Andrews, is one of three Dorset churches with a medieval spire – the others being Iwerne Minster and Winterbourne Steepleton. The second storey has in each of the East, South and West walls, a window of two lights.

The bell-chamber has, in each wall, a window similar to those just described but larger and houses six bells and five of them would have been rung to celebrate the supposed death of King Charles II in 1651. Nine years later Charles was restored to the throne and the Wyndham family forbade the Trent bell-ringers to ring a peal to celebrate this event; instead ringers from Compton were invited to ring the Trent bells. It has since been the tradition for the Compton bell-ringers to ring the Trent bells each year on Oak Apple Day, the 29th of May, the anniversary of the Restoration of Charles II.

St. Andrews is built from local rubble with ashlar dressings of Ham Hill stone. The roofs are covered with stone slates. The north chapel and the nave date from the 13th century, the south tower and porch were added in the 14th century and the chancel was rebuilt in the 15th century.

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