Marple and the Chartists11
By jeand
- 1027 reads
Mrs. Isherwood was well versed in the layout of the city of Chester, and as we walked along she gave me a running history lesson.
“Curiously, there is a record that, in 1581, the city magistrates bought the old Shire Hall in the Castle 'for six Cheshire cheeses', and moved it to the Market Square where it was first served as a granary, and was then appropriated by the city's butchers, and became the flesh shambles. Most cities have areas within them called shambles which is where the butchers do what they have to do, and then sell the end products.”
We walked down the road to the centre of the city, where there is a magnificent cross, and then walked down Lower Bridge Street, past many fine black and white buildings. When we got to Tudor House - a particularly fine example of this sort of architecture, and as we saw that part of the building was a bakery, but they had laid out tables for morning coffee. As we sat there, Mrs. Isherwood said that she had an idea. She thought that as we were expected in court early the next morning, rather than go all the way back to Wrexham after our tour of Chester, it would be sensible for us to stay within the town, and thus have the benefit of seeing more of it. She asked the woman in charge if she could recommend a place to stay the night, and as it transpired, this same Tutor House and the adjoining house, the Brittania Inn, offered accommodation. So we sent Mrs. York a telegram to tell our coachman that we would not be returning until five p.m. the following evening.
The innkeeper was delighted that a woman of such obvious quality was considering spending the night under his roof, and he took us up the stairs to see what he had on offer. On the top floor was a grand room, (pictured above) with the wooden daubing still in place and masses of little leaded mullioned and transomed casement panes in the huge window which overlooked the street. The Inn keeper told us that the house actually dated from 1503, which meant it was 340 years old. Within the large room was a smaller room, which was meant for a maid - and although it had no windows, it was large enough for me.
Mrs. Isherwood secured the rooms for the night, but said that we would not be back until about five when the shops closed. So we went to view the accompanying sitting areas, which were very pleasant, and she agreed that we would have our evening meal and breakfast there, as well as staying the night.
After our break, we decided our first call should be at the Cathedral. We went back along Lower Bridge Street to ordinary Bridge Street and then to the cross, and then right down Eastgate Street to get to the Cathedral grounds. Mrs. Isherwood continued her lesson to me on history. “This magnificent structure, although there had been a church called St. Werburgh’s and an Abbey there previously, was built in about 1540, and it was Henry VIII himself who made the Abbey into a Cathedral.”
As we went into the north transept there were simple round arches which she told me date from the Norman period. In the cloister the wall to the nave has blank arches. The Lady Chapel, which is beyond, shows slender stone shafts and rib vaults to create an airy feeling. Then between there and the transepts are the richly caved oak choir stalls, with the misericords being very highly decorated. These were the monks’ stalls when it was an abbey and misericord mean Monk’s easy seat. Whilst appearing to stand for services, the monks could rest their bottoms on the ledges of the upturned seats. There are grotesque figures, some hunting scenes, knights and kings, a lady chastening her hounds and well as creatures real and mythical such as lions and dogs, griffins and winged beasts.
It was well past one p.m. when we finished our tour of the Cathedral. We went back down the street, and again around the Cross, and down Eastgate Street. Here we found a very large and fine shop called W. and H. Brown, which also had a luncheon section. They served us quiche and salad and very fine it was too. After this we spent sometime shopping for our necessary purchases for our evening at the Inn - nightgowns (Mrs. Isherwood bought me the finest one I have ever owned) and the necessary items of underwear and washing equipment needed for our ablutions, as Mrs. Isherwood puts it.
While Mrs. Isherwood went on her own around Browns, I took our purchases back to Tutor House and put them in our room.
On my return, I easily located her, and we continued on our exploration of Chester. She knew how much I wanted to walk along the city walls, so we continued down Watergate Street walking past some medieval stone townhouses, which Mrs. Isherwood told me dated from the early 14thcentury. We then saw a very ornately carved timber framed town house which was built for George Lloyd the Bishop of Sodor and Man and then of Chester. Then we saw a building, again an Elizabeth town house dating from 1591, this time named after the Stanley family, custodians of the nearby Watergate, who were responsible for collecting tolls on the goods brought into the City from the Port of Chester. She said that Chester imported wine, oil, glass and pottery.
The Water Tower is a massive rounded structure built in dark brown sandstone. Because of the silting up of the river, it is now surrounded by marsh land instead of water. Apparently in the 1600’s plague victims were housed in small cabins on this land. Mrs. Isherwood told me that the Water Tower was fiercely attacked for two years until 1646 during the siege of Chester in the Civil War since it defended the city from the river side. Chester was a royalist city, and the Parliamentary forces, which of course included Henry Bradshawe, brother of John, were anxious to prevent communication between Chester and potential allies elsewhere. The marks made by musket balls as they struck the stonework can still be seen on Bonewaldesthorne’s Tower. As the Water Tower is now a museum, Mrs. Isherwood paid our 6d entry fee each, and we went to see a camera obscura which was erected on the roof of the tower. We climbed up a narrow spiral staircase, and saw a unique view of the surrounding area.
We found our way back to the Brittania Inn going along the wall to North gate, and then threading our way through the streets until we were back on Lower Bridge Street. We went upstairs, via a very well worn circular staircase, to our rooms, and Mrs. Isherwood had a lie down while I found an iron and pressed her dress again so it would look fresh for dinner. I ate my meal with the servants, but having had a peek in the dining room earlier when we were viewing the premises, I knew she would be dining at a huge oaken table under a wonderful chandelier.
After dinner, she told me she sat in the lounge beyond the dining area, and conversed with the other guests. We slept quite well, but were disturbed somewhat by noisy drunken louts in the street below.
On Friday, we took our seats in the Courtroom in the Castle, as Mrs. Isherwood was told that she might be called on to give her evidence on that day. As the various speakers came and went I was able to piece together what the trial was all about. Of course some of it I knew from what Johnny and Beth had told me, and what we had read in the papers, but this was the more official version of what happened.
In August 1842, in the wake of Parliament’s rejection of the second Charter petition, a Chartist conference took place in Manchester. As it convened, strikes protesting at wage cuts imposed by the factory owners broke out first in Ashton, then across Manchester. One of the wigged advocates was saying that this was obviously a politically inspired strike, although his counter part said it was a spontaneous outbreak of industrial militancy. But they both agreed that it was a well-organised general strike, with committees issuing permits for those who might work on during the stoppage. The Chartists which were what all the prisoners currently being tried were said to be, placed themselves at the head of the strike action, speaking from platforms and giving some political direction. Eventually the whole area was in the hands of the working class through these Chartists.
The 58 Chartists on trial were charged with nine counts of inciting riots, risings, strikes and other forms of disorder. The attorney general himself led for the prosecution, and some of the most damning evidence was given by two former Chartists who had turned Queen’s evidence.
Each of the accused were called in turn to have the charges against them read. Then there would be witnesses called to speak against them. Few had anyone to speak on their behalf.
Finally it was Johnny’s turn. He looked proud and insolent as he stood in the dock. The charge was read “Inciting riot in Stockport, causing bodily harm to the man in charge of the work house, causing others to loot and destroy property.” When asked how he pleaded he didn’t say anything, and the judge quickly said, “I will take that for an admission of your guilt.”
Various of the witnesses from Stockport came forward to identify Johnny as one who had been shouting out orders at the time. James Crompton, the constable of Stockport who had been the arresting officer identified him. Thomas Barrington, governor of Shaw Heath Work House said that he was positive that Johnny was the one who had struck one of his employees on the night in question. When asked where that witness was, who presumably had a better view of who struck him, Mr. Barrington said that Mr. Jones was unable to attend as he was still very much in pain due to his injuries.
Then the judge said, “Amazingly we have a witness who has asked to come forward in your defence, Mr. Robinson. I call Mrs. Thomas Isherwood of Marple Hall to the stand.”
Mrs. Isherwood looked a little bit overawed as she stood up to the witness box. She was asked to swear the truth on the Bible, which she did. She looked at Johnny and smiled but he didn’t smile in return.
The lawyer for the prosecution said, “Now, Mrs. Isherwood, were you in Stockport at the time of the riot which took place?”
“No, I was not.”
“So how then do you know whether or not Mr. Robinson was there, and whether or not he did that with which he is charged.”
“I don’t know.”
“I then fail to see what your purpose is in coming to this court. Are you a personal acquaintance of Mr. Robinson or his family?”
“No, not really.”
“Please say whatever it is you came to say so we can get on with our proceedings.”
“On the night of the Stockport riots, Mr. Robinson and several others came to Marple Hall with the possible intent of doing damage. However, I asked them not to, and they went away peacefully. I think that because he showed restraint at that time, it is most likely that he was not one of those accused of the violence in Stockport. I agree that he must have attended the riots, but I would think, based on his previous behaviour, that he most likely would have been one asking the rioters to exercise caution and not violence.”
“Do you know this for a fact Mrs. Isherwood?”
“No, it is just what I think.”
“Unfortunately for your friend Mr. Robinson, your thoughts are not allowable as evidence in a court of law. That will be all.”
Mrs. Isherwood blushed at the impertinence of the man, and stepped down from the stand. She looked at Johnny again, but he didn’t meet her gaze at all. I thought it most rude and unfriendly considering how she had tried to show that he had something good in his character for him to not at least acknowledge her efforts on his behalf.
We stayed for the rest of the day’s proceedings, and when the court adjourned for the weekend, we were both rather relieved that it was over. The courtroom had been crowded and smelly and full of aggressive unpleasant people. Our coachman, Joseph met us at five p.m. at the Cross, as we had previously arranged, and we were back at the peaceful grounds of the Hall within, by seven.
I asked Mrs. Isherwood, now that her part in the trial was over, whether we would be going back. She said she would not go back to court again, but would wait in the area until she heard the sentences passed at the end of the trial.
At the conclusion of the trial the following Tuesday, charges had been dropped against seven men, 19 more were acquitted, and the remainder convicted of one or two of the nine counts against them. Seven men had a severe sentence imposed and one of those was John Robinson. He was found guilty of serious bodily harm to Mr. Evan Jones and was to be transported to Australia for seven years for his part in the uprising. The official charge was “sedition” and “compassing or devising to levy war against the Queen.”
The judge concluded that the Chartist movement, as a result of its leaders being sentenced to transportation, has been robbed of its leadership and will now be broken at its very height. (He wasn’t quite right about that.)
We were very somber as we went back to Erdigg Hall for our last night. We had sent word to the maid Adelaide that we would be departing early the next morning, and we found that she had arrived in the house before we did. We told our hosts of the lack of success of our endeavours, and they commiserated with us, although they said that they had heard that many transported men made good lives for themselves once they were given their tickets of leave.
Our return journey was retracing our steps of the previous one, but I didn’t feel the excitement that I had felt before. I was dreading having to face Beth on my return and didn’t know how I could tell her that Mrs. Isherwood had failed to make any difference to the outcome of the trial.
As I expected when I was able to go home for a half day my sister was devastated with the news I gave her. She had set her heart on Johnny being released and coming back to Marple, and eventually marrying her. But now she could not begin to hope that they would have a future.
“So that is more or less how the story ended. As you know, Elizabeth married within a few years of Johnny’s deportation, and she never did hear from him again.”
“Well, you can continue your story when you have made your trip to Marple Hall. But out you go now, and buy yourself a stunning outfit.”
“Thanks, love for your support. I will do just that.”
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I wonder how he got on in
I wonder how he got on in Australia? They all did their best for him. very intersting about Chester, I don't really know it. She's a bright yong girl, I expect she went on to hve an interesting life.
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An interesting tour of
An interesting tour of Chester and its history, and with snippets like about the monks' easy seats! Oh, you might want to change ''richly caved oak choir stalls'.
In Herefordshire they have a 'black and white village trail' which goes through many well preserved villages. I think a black and white house in Leominster got moved like that Shire Hall seems to have got moved to another part. Rhiannon
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