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October, 2012:

Portland: its 18th Century Customs

During the 18th century Portland was truly an island. Its three thousand acres composed entirely of Jurassic rock assured a bleak existence for the inhabitants: a close-knit, hard-working community with their own ways and customs and, to the chagrin of the authorities at Weymouth, their own interpretation of the laws of salvage.

Gavelkind, a form of land tenure from Anglo-Saxon times, had been supplanted elsewhere in England but here it was still used. With the equal division of land at each generation the inevitable consequence for the social structure was to squeeze out anything like a middle-class and cause a general levelling down which ensured the resulting poverty was equally shared.

An unusual custom on the island concerning matrimonial arrangements almost guaranteed there would be no marriages without issue. On Portland, women selected their mates and entered into marriage only after pregnancy was confirmed.  John Smeaton (1724-1792), a civil engineer, tells us in his book published in 1791: Narrative of the Buildings and a Description of the Construction of the Eddystone Lighthouse with Stone how very proud his London born foreman was of the fact that illegitimacy was unheard of and assured his employer: “there was but one child on record that had been born a bastard in the compass of 150 years”. Failure to achieve pregnancy “after a competent time of courtship” meant “that they are not destined by Providence for each other” and the woman was “free to seek another suitor as if she had been left a widow or that nothing had happened”. A cursory glance through the baptism register confirms this claim.

It was in the 17th century that the export of fine building stone got under way but according to John Smeaton it was “shipped in the rough…to be sawn and fair wrought to the particular purpose where wanted”. Stone quarrying brought only unskilled lowly paid work for the Portland men, a situation further aggravated as spoil heaps of rock and sub-soil littered the island reducing the already limited areas available for growing crops and produce. Skilled stone masons came to the island after 1739.

The islanders had little contact with the rest of the country other than with the villagers of Wyke Regis from whom they would buy supplies, share fishing grounds and unite to thwart the Weymouth Custom Officers in matters of wrecking and salvage, an activity we will look at in greater detail in another article.

Access to the island was by a rope-drawn ferry boat, by all accounts a hazardous journey. The island was first joined to the mainland in 1839 by a toll bridge over the Fleet to Wyke Regis and Weymouth and by the railway in 1865. The present causeway was opened in 1985.

The Monmouth Rebellion

Dorset could have played a vital part in a return to Protestant dominance in England in the late 17th century. The Duke of Monmouth arrived on Lyme Regis beach from Holland, impelled by volatile evangelicalism in that country, and soon gathered an army of thousands which marched north, only to be defeated by King James II’s forces at Sedgmoor.

It was an army of peasants or serfs, armed with farm implements, and stirred to action by the death of Charles II and the arrival of a Catholic king on the throne. The attempt, in the summer of 1685, did not have the support of the Whigs as it might have done, and it was cut down among the Somerset rhines, the drainage canals in the moors, by a smaller but more professional force led by John Churchill, later the First Duke of Marlborough.

Monmouth and Lord Grey made for the Dorset coast, hoping to get away by sea from Poole. They abandoned their horses, disguised themselves and separated but Monmouth was caught in Cranbourne Chase and within weeks he was executed for treason at Tower Hill, London.

An associated rising planned in Scotland, a stronghold, like the West Country, of the burgeoning Protestant religion, resulted in defeat. It was left to William III of Orange to sail from Holland three years later, put ashore at Torbay with an army and eventually to be made king by Parliament once James II had sailed away to France.

The political and church scene at this time was mercurial and transient. The Civil Wars, which were intended to straighten things out, were not long over. The death of Oliver Cromwell in 1658 led to the restoration of the monarchy in 1660. Draconian rules were in force governing worship, and Baptists and others were meeting in the woods. A century later the situation was somewhat similar, before there began to be an acceptance of the Roman Catholic Church once again. Things were going round in circles.

One James, Duke of Monmouth, aged 36, bastard son of Charles and claiming the throne in the place of his uncle the Duke of York, had stepped ashore near the Cobb at Lyme Regis, his Declaration was read out at the ancient cross. He had a high profile supporter in Anthony Ashley Cooper, First Earl of Shaftesbury. Monmouth’s followers were euphoric, yet there were many Dorset men in the king’s forces, which were soon to harry them.

The end was very violent and very sad. At the Bloody Assizes in September 1685, based in Dorchester, Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys took revenge in a courtroom said to have been draped in red. The Oak Room, still preserved, and now a rather select tearoom, overlooks an alley thoroughfare not far from the town’s tourist information centre. The judge’s lodgings in the town’s main street are also now tearooms. Altogether 292 people were condemned to death and 800 were transported to the New World.

Four years later, following William’s “Glorious Revolution”, the ‘hanging judge’ himself died rather ignominiously in the Tower of London.

Everything was against Monmouth: a badly equipped army, quarrelling amongst his chief officers, poor preparation, and an inept skirmish at Bridport. By midnight on the landing date Mayor Gregory Alford of Lyme Regis was at Honiton ordering an express message to Whitehall, and two Lyme Customs officers were also on their way to London to raise the alarm.

Taunton and Bridgwater welcomed the rebels with flower lined streets. The rebels wished to take Bristol, then the second city in the kingdom, but were easily discouraged and made their way through Frome and Shepton Mallet to Wells, and to Bridgwater again. By this time the people were losing heart and Taunton asked the rebel army not to return.

Monday July 6th 1685 decided things. Monmouth decided to attack the king’s army near Weston Zoyland, but was defeated by the rhines and the accidental or treacherous firing of a pistol in the dark by one of his own side.

The duke had hatched his plans with the fugitive Argyle and some hotheads in the Netherlands. Argyle was to start an insurrection under the Covenanting banner in the Borders and Campbell territory. The idea was that they would then both march on London. Argyle landed in Kintyre but the Marquis of Atholl occupied the countryside there and he was eventually captured when approaching Glasgow, and executed.

This activity north of the border had caused Parliament to vote money for a professional army. More troops came from the Continent, and help even came from William, showing that while their aims were similar, he had no time for Monmouth.

The strange thing is that four years earlier; Monmouth had toured the West Country and was led to expect massive support from the gentry. But his ragged army was one mostly of farm labourers and cloth workers. Even the supplies he had brought from Holland were seized.

Later, hundreds were caught as they ran from the battleground, cut down or hanged on the spot. A garrison newly returned from Tangiers was sent in, and retribution in nearby towns such as Shepton Mallet and Taunton followed.

Maurice Ashley, in “The English Civil War” (1974) set the scene for the Monmouth fiasco and what followed very well:

“Lastly, because Parliament won the civil wars it henceforward became an unchallengeable part of the British constitution. The Church of England ceased to be the sole religious institution because, in spite of heavy penalties imposed upon them, dissenters – known as nonconformists – emerged as a permanent feature of public life and influence on society.”

There was never to be another civil war in England. And when it began to seem that Roman Catholicism would hold sway again, along came William of Orange with his armed force to reverse the situation again. King James II fled to France and the nation remained Protestant.

Dorchester – No Dignity in Death

There were some in the 18 and 19th centuries who explored the notion that criminals shared common physical characteristics: the study of phrenology was in its early stages but it was thought a person’s features or expressions were an indication of their personality. During this period it was not unusual for casts to be made of the heads of executed criminals in furtherance of these ideas.

In the middle years of the 19th century the Dorchester Gaol employed the services of Dr. John Good as its prison surgeon. Dr Good is known to have applied for licences to make casts of the heads of some executed prisoners, although it is not clear why as there are no records to suggest he had any particular interest in phrenology or physiognomy.

In the 1960’s four casts were offered to the Dorset County Museum and as far we know they remain in store there. Dr John Good practiced from 48 High West Street, Dorchester, and when he retired his son William Good took over and was joined by a partner, Gerald Taylor. Dr Taylor later moved to Icen House, Icen Way, Dorchester. The four casts moved with him and resided in the garage of Icen House until either Dr Taylor or an associate offered them to the museum.

In a paper published in 2000 G.A. Chester, having sifted through all the available documentary evidence and newspaper reports then carefully considering all that is known about the characteristics of the persons hanged at Dorchester between 1833 and 1887, makes a compelling case for the casts being from the heads of: Charles Fooks; Edwin Alfred Preedy; Jonah Detheridge and Thomas Ratcliffe. (See our story ‘The Prisoner a Padre Befriended’ published 9th February 2010 in the Real Lives Category).

A note made by Thomas Hardy dated 9th of September 1888 provides more information about the making of the casts: “T. Voss used to take casts of heads of executed convicts. He took those of Preedy and Stone. Dan Pouncy held the heads while it was being done. Voss oiled the faces, and took them in halves, afterwards making casts from the masks. There was a groove where the rope went, and Voss saw a little blood in the case of Stone, where the skin had been broken – not in Preedys.” In his account Hardy has confused Stone, who was the victim, with Fooks, who killed Stone.

Thomas Haviland Voss (1806-1889) of Durngate Street, Dorchester was listed in directories as a builder and a plasterer. After his death the Dorset County Chronicle published an obituary on the 3rd of October 1889 saying: “Dorchester has just lost its oldest tradesmen in the person of Mr Thomas Haviland Voss. The deceased who belonged to an old and much respected Dorchester family whose connection with the town extended considerably over a century was in business himself for more than half-a-century as a plasterer, &c, from which he retired some years ago.” Thomas Voss’ grandson, Harold Lionel Voss, was reputed to be Thomas Hardy’s favourite chauffeur.

There are no records of casts being made of the heads of any other criminals executed at Dorchester. We know the casts were made under the supervision of Dr Good but we can only wonder about why he wanted them.

Stock Gaylard

For two centuries the estate, the major feature at Stock Gaylard, has been used for country pursuits and sports; the hedgerows and woodlands have been retained for these activities and areas within the estate have been designated as Sites of Special Scientific Interest by English Nature. The estate overall amounts to some 1,700 acres of which 300 acres are woodland with another 80 acres of common land and an enclosed deer park of similar size. The estate is also involved with commercial dairy farming. Five miles to the west of Sturminster Newton the parish is, for administrative purposes, now a part of Lydlinch.
 
Stock Gaylard House appears to date from the early 18th century and is believed to have been built in 1714 when the estate was owned by the Lewys family. It has two storeys with cellars and attics. There was an earlier house but it is not clear where on the estate it stood. Around 1790 when the owner was John Berkley Burland MP, the house was enlarged and improved. During the 19th century further improvements were made by the Yeatman family.

A short distance from the house is the 18th century Twofords Bridge, which carries the main Sherborne to Blandford road over the River Lydden.

The church, which is dedicated to St. Barnabas, stands in the park area of the estate and close to Stock Gaylard House in the north-west corner of the parish. It was rebuilt on the site of an earlier church in 1884, by the Yeatman family in memory of Harry Farr and Emma Yeatman, his wife.

The walls of the church are built of squared rubble with ashlar dressings and the roofs are stone-slated. In the Gothic style it has a chancel, nave, south porch and a bell-cote at the west end of the building. Signs of the earlier church are to be found in the chancel, where there is a restored medieval doorway. In the nave, on the north and south walls, are 16th century windows; the south doorway is medieval and at the centre of the gabled west wall is a restored window thought to date to the 15th century, as does the font. The two bells in the bell-cote over the west gable are from the 13th and 15th century; the earlier bell has a narrow pear shaped form.

Inside the church there are memorials to members of the Lewys and Yeatman families as well as several others dating to the 18th century. Of particular interest is an effigy in Ham stone of the late 13th century, beneath a recessed Gothic arch on the south side of the nave. The recumbent knight (thought to be Sir Ingelramus de Walys) is in mail armour; a plain shield hangs from the left shoulder, the legs are crossed and the right hand rests on the pommel of a sword with spurred feet on couched lion.

There is a memorial to a more recent warrior, Captain Farr Yeatman. He died in 1917 near Jerusalem, where he lies in the military cemetery.  The bronze relief is by Henry Pegram and shows the Captain lying in uniform with his sword. The inscription tells us he gave his life to save another.

Muckleford Treasure Trove

Within the parish of Bradford Peverell is the hamlet and manor of Muckleford, which in 1935 comprised two farms: Higher and Lower Muckleford. The farm-house at Lower Muckleford owned then by Mr Lewis Marsh is interesting being formerly a ‘cell’ dependent on the Cistercian Abbey of Tyrone in Normandy, which was endowed by the De Port family who were lords of the manor during the reigns of Henry I and Stephen (1100-1154.)

In 1935 a very valuable ‘find’ was unearthed when some calves disturbed the soil on Higher Muckleford farm, which was then owned my Mr Chell. The calves’ actions exposed a hoard of gold-coins. Altogether there were over 100 coins consisting mainly of “units” but there were several “half-units” and a few “quarter-units”. These had been minted at various times during the reigns of James I and Charles I (1603-1649). The coins had been packed into a “stocking-purse” that had long since decayed but had been fastened at the neck by silver “four-wire” and a plain purse ring, which we understand Mr Chell later occasionally wore as a finger ring.

At an inquest held at Dorchester on this treasure trove Mr Chell was allowed its full value from the British Museum where most of the coins are but some were presented by Mr Chell to the Dorset County Museum.

It is likely the coins were hidden during the Civil War (1642-1649), probably by a Royalist prevented from returning to recover his treasure through fear of being captured by Parliamentarian soldiers.

Monkton Wyld

Hidden away in the wooded hills and valleys about three miles north of Lyme Regis on the border with Devon is the area of Monkton Wyld. The land here was once owned by the monks of Forde Abbey (Monkton means “of the monks”). Wyld is from the Old English word ‘wil’ meaning a ‘wile’ or a ‘trick’ and is probably a reference to a trap – the cover afforded by the woodland makes for a landscape favoured by poachers. In bye-gone days this was a manor.

Work started on the church in 1848 and although it was consecrated in 1850 the 120 foot spire was not completed until 1856, a year after its architect, Richard Cromwell Carpenter, died. The Church is dedicated to St. Andrew. Carpenter was a member of the Cambridge Movement who revered the decorated Gothic style and claimed it was the only style suitable to the worship of God. This theory became known as Ecclesiology and St Andrew’s is an excellent example of the style, which accentuates the beauty of holiness, the saints and religious symbolism.

Entrance to the church grounds is through a lynch-gate and a yew tree lined pathway leads to the south porch, which is of wood with open sides and decorated with small columns. The church is built of flint with dressings of Caen stone. Unusually, we find a chancel inside with a painted ceiling that is almost as long as the nave and set apart from the side aisles by three bay arcades. There is a central tower topped with a 120 foot-high spire, supported by Gothic arches.
 
The wooden decorated rood screen, its brass gates, the brass communion rail and the choir stalls, were all added by the Revd. John Brook Maher Camm, the third incumbent. There is a beautiful oak pulpit with a base of Mansfield stone and Devon marble, and a painted organ of 1872. In 1875 five excellent stained glass windows by G.E. Cook and Powell’s of London were installed.

The expense of  building the church as well as a rectory, school and schoolmaster’s house, was borne by Mrs Elizabeth Dodson (1798-1883). She was the widow of Charles Phillip Dodson of Stainly Hall, Yorkshire. Mrs Dodson’s only surviving child, her daughter Frances, was married to the Revd. Robert Sparke Hutchings, who was appointed the first incumbent at Monkton Wyld.

There is a story that explains the unusual name of Hutching’s successor, The Revd. Lester Lester. It seems this gentleman was left a legacy but there was a condition attached to the inheritance: he must change his name to Lester. Being uncertain about whether he was to change his given name or his surname he decided to play it safe and change both his names.

This is a thinly populated area made up of farms but with no central village community. It is difficult to see the need for a church here even in the mid-19th century, but those were days when rich landowners and farmers could instruct their employees to support the church. Nowadays, the church is usually locked and you will have to ask for the key to enjoy its interesting interior.