Runswick: a tale of landslips – and the cholera of 1866

The cliffside village of Runswick Bay 
[Photograph by mattbuck, reproduced under Creative Commons licence]

 

Runswick (the 'w' in the name is silent) lies on the coast a few miles north of Whitby.  Much loved for holidays and days at the seaside, to our sight it offers a charming view of red-roofed cottages nestling under the cliffs of a sandy bay.  But it was only after public taste changed with the Romantic Movement that it began to be considered pretty – and its existence, and the lives of its inhabitants, were for centuries very precarious, not just because of the dangers of the sea but also from the unstable shale cliffs ...  

Here we have the antiquarian Ralph Thoresby, F.R.S., (1658-1725) on a northern journey in the last years of the reign of Charles II – the sight of moorland in November is not one to cheer his heart, and his account reminds us that Roseberry Topping had a long while to go before it would acquire its famous profile:

Mon 13 November 1682

Morning up pretty early; ferried over the river at Stockton, thence to Acklam, where Sir William Hustler has a pretty seat, thence through a blind cross-road, to Marton, a church-town, and thence over the bad moors to Gisborough, famous for a stately abbey ... 

thence over the rotten Moors for many miles without anything observable; the sea at a small distance upon the left; and upon the right hand, hills, whereof a round one, called Roseberry Topping, is a mark for sailors; within a few miles of Whitby, we passed not far from Runswick, the place where, near by the sea-side, stood a little village of six or ten houses the last spring, of which I find from credible persons, the report we had of its being swallowed up of the earth, too true, though blessed be God, all the inhabitants were saved, they happening to be at a kind of wake (as the old manner is) at the house of a person immediately deceased, where observing the earth to crack and gape, made all their escape; shortly after which, the chinks grew suddenly wide, and the houses fell into the gulf. 

On the right hand we left Moulgrave [Mulgrave] Castle, that ancient fabric, and passed through Lith [Lythe], a pretty country town; thence over the Sands to Whitby. [1]

I think the original little village of Runswick stood a little to the north of the village today, which is described here by the Revd John Graves in his History of Cleveland (1808), who quotes from the 18th century naturalist and antiquarian Thomas Pennant [2]

Runswick ... is situated near the sea, and consists of a few scattered huts, inhabited by fishermen, and grouped irregularly together on the declivity of a steep and rugged rock; the projecting top of which juts forward in an awful manner and threatens at some future period to overwhelm the inhabitants.  The situation of the place is singular and must excite the curiosity of strangers; when in winding along the narrow paths between the houses,  they may on one side enter the door of one dwelling, and from thence look down the chimney of another in front.  Pennant observes that, 

"the houses here make a grotesque appearance, scattered over the face of a steep cliff in a very strange manner, and fill every projecting ledge one above another, in the same manner as those of the peasants in the rocky parts of China."  

The houses are sheltered on the north and north-west, and command a pleasing prospect into the bay, which is upwards of a mile in extent, – with Kettleness alum-works about a mile to the north-east.  The lower part of the town is almost choaked with sand, which fills up every passage; and in wet weather is dirty and unpleasant.

The Revd Graves was rather behind the times – for sensibilities formed by the Romantic Movement, Runswick could only be described as picturesque.  By the 1830s the village was becoming beloved of artists and tourists.  Some enterprising person, seeing commercial possibilities, decided to build a hotel at the Bank Top, equipped with all mod. cons. including a Water Closet.  

I wonder if it was completed on the generous scale originally intended and if it was initially as successful as predicted in the advertisement below; in the early years it changed hands with some frequency.  In the early 1860s it was run by a Mr Ivison, but in 1865 Mrs Wardale took it over.  It evidently looked an attractive prospect to people coming from outside because by the time of the 1871 census, George Marshall from Nottingham had taken it on.  He and his family had been in Felixkirk near Thirsk three years earlier – that was where his little daughter had been born.  By 1877 the Marshalls had gone and William Brown from Loftus had the hotel; he was still there in 1891.  

In the spring of 1860 the still unfinished hotel was up for sale:

Yorkshire Gazette, 21 April 1860 

All that New, Commodious, and Delightfully-situated Inn, known as the Albert Hotel, situate at Runswick Bank Top, in the Parish of Hinderwell, in the County of York, lately occupied by Jonathan Ramshaw.  This Property comprises a good Front Kitchen, Back Kitchen, Wash-House, Roomy Bar, Smoke Room, Commercial Room, Private Rooms, an excellent suite of Bed Rooms, Water Closet, Attics, Coach-house, Stabling, and all other suitable Out-Offices. 

Although the Premises are not entirely completed, they are in such an advanced stage that, with the bright prospect of an increasing Business, a Purchaser may confidently rely on his Purchase-Money with any small additional outlay being amply secured.

This is one of Mrs Wardale's advertisements:

Whitby Gazette 3 November 1866

The Sheffield (late Albert) Hotel, Runswick Bank Top 

Is delightfully situated, amidst the most romantic scenery of the Yorkshire Coast, and is fitted up with every comfort for the reception of Tourists and Visitors.  It is modern and very commodious, and the utmost attention and quiet may be relied upon.  Mrs Wardale, Proprietress.

The hotel was highly praised by one J.G., in an account in the Yorkshire Gazette of 14 July 1866 of the walking holiday he had taken along the coast:

as the accommodation is good and the charges moderate, it is desirable to remind the future tourists that there did not appear to be a house on the coast at which to stay where cleanliness, and civility, and comfort, and cheapness were to be had in combination so well as in this house.  Mrs Wardell is a widow, a middle-aged person, and has, so she said, lived in her early days with some of the aristocratic families in the west end of London.  The house was taken by her last year.  Persons desirous of enjoying the sea and the beautiful and romantic scenery in and around this locality cannot do better than secure accommodation here.

On the cliffside below the new hotel lay the thatched roofs of the village – the "town of Runswick" as the census enumerator described it in 1861 when he listed its inhabitants.  In 97 cottages, 430 people were living and there were four cottages standing empty.  The little low cottages would have blended into the cliff face, as they were all thatched (ling was used for thatching in moorland districts).  One thatched house has survived, the one that used to be occupied by the coastguard.

Roughly half of the population was aged 23 years and younger, which isn't surprising because it's only in recent years that the UK median age has risen to 40½.  (In 1911, it was 25 and it was 34 in 1975).  So Runswick was a place with many children.  Of the 430 people there, just 46 were aged 60 and over – and they included a 90 year old, who was the blind uncle of one of the fishermen.  

Like Staithes, further up the coast, Runswick was a self-contained and inter-related community with its own customs, superstitions and habits.  The name Calvert was by far the most the common surname in the village in 1861, followed by Patton, Taylor, Hutton, Beswick and Clark.  Its needs were served by a grocer & draper, four dressmakers and a tailor, two innkeepers, two joiners, three blacksmiths, and a painter who had been born in Chester.  

The vast majority of the population had been born in Runswick and the hundred or so people born outside the village were mostly from further along the coast or a little way inland, and some of those may have had family ties to the place.  The coastguards were appointed from outside the area – how could a local be trusted to deal with smugglers? – and in 1861 he was from Sheffield.  Of the Runswick-born who had left their birthplace, most had not gone many miles or had left for the towns of Stockton, Middlesbrough or Hartlepool.  And of course there were the Runswick-born men who were at sea.

The people of Runswick knew all too well the dangers of the sea.  In 1866, 650 lives were lost on average from shipwreck on the shores of the United Kingdom.  The likelihood of raising the funds for a lifeboat station at Runswick had looked remote – but then came an amazing offer from the people of Sheffield, who raised the money to donate a boat to the village.  It only remained to raise the money locally for its upkeep and for a boat house.  And so, in May 1866, 'The Sheffield' arrived in Whitby by train (carried for free by the railway companies) and was towed by the steamboat 'Rover' to its new home.  Mrs Wardale must have renamed her hotel in its honour.

The people of Runswick were tough and resilient.  For generations the men had been fishermen – at Runswick it was mainly the inshore fishery – and the women played a crucial role alongside them.  They had a hard life.  They got the bait, cleaned and baited the long lines, mended the nets, filleted the fish and packed it in salt.  They launched and hauled the cobles ashore and some of them carried heavy baskets of the catch to sell in outlying villages rather than to a dealer.  They fetched water from the beck and bread from the communal bakehouse, looked after the house and children and knitted for the family.  The children lent a hand alongside them.  

In 1861 there were 50 fishermen in the village and 5 men who described themselves as mariners, and they were all born in Runswick.  But alongside the fishing, mining – another dangerous occupation – was growing in importance and the men working in the mines were mostly from outside. 

There were ironstone mines a little way up the coast at Port Mulgrave.  At Kettleness, at the southern end of the bay, there were alum works which were still operating in the first part of 1866 but would close before long [3].  The jet works at Kettleness were certainly in operation only a few years before the 1861 census, because it was there in 1854 that a labourer at the jet works, Dalton Taylor, accidentally fell from the top of the cliff on to a piece of broken rock and was killed on the spot.  In 1861, 16 men worked in the ironstone mines and only one of them was born in Runswick.  Of the 18 men who worked as labourers, either at Port Mulgrave or Kettleness, 10 were Runswick-born men.

The sea, the mines, the precarious nature of Runswick's hold on the cliff edge – it isn't surprising to find that spiritual needs were not ignored.  As in Staithes, the villagers' independence of mind (and the Church of England's history of ignoring them) can be seen in their strong Nonconformism.  A Congregational Chapel was built in 1829, which had a Sunday School and a Day School – perhaps the 40 year old schoolmistress Miss Mary Agar from Danby, who lodged in the village in 1861, was the teacher there [4].  In 1854, a Primitive Methodist chapel was built.  The sand and lime together with 140 loads of stone had been carried to the site on the heads of the women of the village – which was how they carried heavy baskets of fish, mussels and baited lines, their heads protected by their distinctive bonnets – while the men had carted the heavier stone in handbarrows.  It was too steep for any horse and cart [5].  It became known as the High Chapel while the Congregational Chapel was the Low Chapel.

And it was among these strong and determined people that, in November 1866, an outbreak of cholera led to deaths – and then to a damning report on the state of the village.

Cholera: glimpses of the pandemics of the 19th century

In the 19th century, the usual yearly epidemics of frequently fatal infectious diseases in Britain were eclipsed by successive waves of a frightening newcomer: Asiatic Cholera.

It first arrived in 1831.  You can read about it in 'The year of the Cholera', Chapter 11 of Remarkable, but still True: the story of the Revd R J Barlow and Hutton Rudby in the time of the cholera .

There I describe how, in York, Dr Thomas Simpson and the surgeon J P Needham not only treated patients but also investigated the spread of cases.  They both believed cholera was contagious and Needham wrote a monograph on the subject in 1833, after the pandemic had subsided.  Dr Simpson, who thought it was an air-borne disease, published his Observations on the Asiatic Cholera: and Facts regarding the mode of its diffusion after the next pandemic, which happened seventeen years later in 1848.

In 1848, as in 1831, cholera was firmly associated with "nuisances" – sewage and filth – and it was still thought that it was the "unwholesome exhalations" and poisonous vapours from nuisances and decaying vegetable matter that spread the disease.  The theory may have been erroneous but the practice was helpful, because cholera is spread through water contaminated by faeces; this was the beginning of improvements in better drainage and public health.  

Cholera isn't easy to catch but without the correct treatment it is fatal in half the cases.  Nowadays it is treated by rehydration – which has to be begun without delay – and sometimes with antibiotics.  In the 19th century, careful nursing might pull a patient through but unfortunately doctors very often used purges and emetics on their patients, which would only have dehydrated them further.  

Meanwhile, there were plenty of advertisements for patent medicines.

William Hardcastle advertised his "Cure for Asiatic Cholera" and "Grand Preventive of Cholera" extensively in the Northern press.  Born in Sunderland, he had learned his trade as a chemist in Stockton-on-Tees and now had his own shop in Finkle Street – and I'm glad to say the interior of Hardcastle's is preserved at Beamish Open Air Museum (photographs here).  He was a man in his late thirties and evidently very enterprising.

At this time anxiety was all the greater because diarrhoea was thought often to precede cholera – of course there was a good deal of diarrhoea around – and it was believed that stopping diarrhoea would stop cholera developing.  William Hardcastle's advertisements proudly proclaimed that 

having witnessed the great mortality by Cholera which took place in Stockton, 17 years ago, when about 130 persons died in a very short time, Mr H. directed his earnest attention to discover some more efficient Preventive and Cure than were at that time employed, and has succeeded in compounding the "Diarrhoea Powders" and "Cholera Drops", which has rescued many from premature graves.  Their great efficacy has caused them to be so much esteemed in Stockton and the Neighbourhood, that the Proprietor has now made arrangements for extending their sale to other places.

The Drops could be sent by Post to any part of the UK on forwarding 12 Postage Stamps, and they cost a shilling and a penny halfpenny or two shillings per bottle.  I expect the chief ingredient was laudanum.

More useful in preventing cholera were products such as Sir William Burnett's Patent Disinfecting Fluid, which was advertised as "a deodorizing and purifying agent" and was a chloride disinfectant.  

When nothing seemed to help, the only answer was prayer:

York Herald, 22 September 1849

Cholera – The authorities of Middlesbro' have issued a notice to the inhabitants to set apart Friday, the 21st inst., as a day of humiliation and prayer to God to remove that desolating pestilence, the cholera, which has lately been so fatal in that place.

Then a third wave of cholera reached Britain in 1853.  It was at this point that Dr John Snow of London  (1813-58) demonstrated that cholera was a water-borne disease by removing the handle of the Broad Street pump.  He published his findings in his work of 1855, which drew upon the careful observations of Dr Thomas Simpson.  But it took many years for public health authorities to act to ensure a clean water supply and Snow had been long dead when the Chief Medical Officer for Health acknowledged the significance of his work.

We can see that keeping the streets clear of nuisances and encouraging better cleanliness was well established as a priority for the authorities:

York Herald, 15 October 1853

Cholera – On the 24th of Sept last, this devastating disease broke out in one of the low parts of Stockton, and since that period to the present time, 13 deaths have occurred, but all in that particular locality, which is said to be in a very indifferent state of drainage, and where many of the inhabitants are not of the most cleanly description.

In Darlington, the local board of health and the board of guardians held a joint meeting.  They decided to carry out the recommendations of the medical superintending inspector of the General Board of Health to set up a system of house to house visiting as the only effectual safeguard against the spread of the epidemic.  (This might remind us of recent events described in this story on the BBC News website in which Professor John Wright, Head of Bradford Institute for Health Research describes the work of the local test and trace teams, sending testers door to door in neighbourhoods with high rates of infection).  They resolved to employ more scavengers to clear away the nuisances, to set up a more general distribution of disintectants such as chloride of lime, and to supply water for free to the poorer districts, "in order that greater facilities for cleanliness might be afforded".   

And, then as now, there were plenty of conspiracy theories.  In some countries, the swiftness with which the disease spread led the people to think their water supply had been poisoned:

Huddersfield Chronicle, 2 September 1854

News has arrived in Palermo of the appearance of cholera in that city.  The Sicilians, it seems, are under the impression that the cholera is a poison which has been communicated by human means.  The people have surrounded the Governor's palace, and shouted "We will not have the cholera here!"  The Lord Lieutenant immediately issued orders prohibiting the people to speak of poison.  The city is in a very excited state.

In 1865 the cholera returned yet again to Britain.  

It reached Yarm on 8 October 1866 and when doctors Robert and Christopher Young, the town's medical officers, made their report on 13 November, they hoped they had seen the back of it.  There had been 23 cases of cholera, 12 of which were fatal, and 5 cases "approaching cholera", of which 2 were fatal. In the same period they had seen 87 cases of diarrhoea.  

A few days before cholera came to Yarm, it had already reached Hutton Rudby and Potto – but luckily not with the virulence of the 1832 outbreak, when there were 45 cases and 23 deaths at the east end of the village green:

York Herald, 6 October 1866

The Cholera – We regret to state that a fatal case of Asiatic cholera has just occurred at the small rustic hamlet of Potto, in the parish of Whorlton, near Stokesley.  Elizabeth Mary Cawthorn, the wife of a brickmaker, was attacked on Saturday afternoon last, and was visited the same night by Mr A A Boyle, assistant to Mr J H Handyside, surgeon, Stokesley, and he at once perceived that she was prostrated by a malignant attack of cholera.  Mr Handyside attended on the following morning, and Mr Boyle was present when she died on Sunday night, medical skill being of no avail.

Richmond & Ripon Chronicle, 13 October 1866

Thompson - On the 6th inst., at Hutton Rudby, Cleveland, of Asiatic cholera, aged 60 years, Mr George Thompson, brickmaker

Nearly twenty years and many cholera deaths later, people across the world were electrified to hear that the German scientist Dr Robert Koch and his team had discovered the "cholera germ".  

Dr Koch had carried out his researches in India.  This fact spurred Professor Edwin Ray Lankester (1847-1929) to write a trenchant criticism of the British government's approach to scientific research that appeared in, among other papers, the Pall Mall Gazette of 2 November 1883.  He was the son of Edwin Lankester (1814-74), surgeon, naturalist, the first public analyst in Britain, the first medically qualified coroner for Central Middlesex, a man who made a major contribution to the control of cholera in London.  So his son had, in a way, a family interest in the fight against the disease.  

He deplored the fact that

when a dire disease broke out in a country occupied by British troops, and, for the time being, controlled by the English Government, no steps were taken by that Government to initiate a thorough study of the disease in the light of modern science, but that, on the other hand, independent Commissions were sent to the plague-stricken country by the Governments of France and Germany for the express purpose of making the investigations which the English Government had omitted to set on foot.

The French and German scientists were from 

the State-supported laboratory of M Pasteur; they were his assistants and pupils.  The German Commissioners came from the Imperial Sanitary Institute of Berlin, the workers in which are drawn from the twenty-two State-supported laboratories of pathology which are scattered throughout the German Empire

Britain should be following the examples of France and Germany in training scientists and funding research bodies and laboratories like those in France and Germany.

By July 1884 the "discoverer of the cholera germ" Dr Robert Koch was known to everyone and admired by all.  The Pall Mall Gazette of 11 July 1884 noted that "in the last five years he has succeeded in identifying the germs of cattle disease, of consumption, and of cholera" – he was the benefactor of humanity.

Two years later, the Sanitary Congress – the annual meeting of the Sanitary Institute of Great Britain, founded in 1876 – was held in the Museum in York (now the Yorkshire Museum).  

The Leeds Mercury of 25 September 1886 carried a report of the proceedings.  The president, Mr William Whitaker, read a paper about water-supply in which he said two of the chief problems in sanitary matters were getting good water and getting rid of bad water.  Percy F Frankland, associate of the Royal School of Mines, spoke on the filtration of water.  They had known for many years that the real danger in sewage-contaminated water lay not in the organic matter to be found by analysis but in "the presence of minute living organisms, capable of producing zymotic disease".  Largely thanks to the genius of Robert Koch they now had "beautiful methods of bacteriological investigation" and this had enabled the great advance made in water purification.  Surgeon-Major Pringle described his system of collecting and storing rain and drinking water. Another debate clearly centred on the role of government.  Enforcement or education?  The West Riding County Surveyor, J Vickers Edwards, took what might now be called the libertarian approach to achieving "a healthy house", arguing that sanitary science would not progress through the actions of local authorities nor by legislation, but by educating people to act for themselves.  

Over the next fifty years the Sanitary Institute was to become the leading public health organisation in the UK, with a world-wide reputation.  It is now the Royal Society for Public Health.

Public health reform was truly on its way.

Then & Now: Asiatic Cholera & Covid-19

Listening to the news of the coronavirus, it seems timely to look back on another rapidly spreading disease – the pandemic of Asiatic Cholera that reached Hutton Rudby in 1832.  

This was a very frightening pandemic, not because it was terribly contagious – it was noted in 1876 that out of nineteen people drinking from a infected vessel, only five contracted the infection – but because nobody knew how it spread or what caused it and because without treatment it is fatal in half the cases.  Nowadays it is very treatable; the website of Médecins sans frontières explains that it "can be treated simply and successfully by immediately replacing the fluids and salts lost through vomiting and diarrhoea – with prompt rehydration, less than one per cent of cholera patients die."  

The arrival of the cholera in Hutton Rudby was to prove pivotal in the life of the new vicar, the Revd Robert Barlow.  The story of the cholera and Mr Barlow is told in my book Remarkable, but still True: the story of the Revd R J Barlow and Hutton Rudby in the time of the cholera which I posted on this blog in December 2012.

Here are a few excerpts from Chapter 11. 1832: The year of the Cholera to entice readers back to the chapter itself (just click on that hyperlink to get there), with its account of the dilemmas faced by the authorities and the reactions of business interests and ordinary people:

Cholera had always been endemic in pockets of India, but now, perhaps spread by the new conditions of greatly increased trade and British troop movements, it broke out explosively, and soon produced on the minds of the medical attendants the strong conviction that it was a new disease – a most fearful Pestilence.   

It swiftly passed its usual boundaries and spread widely and rapidly along the trade routes of Asia.  An exceptionally severe winter prevented its further spread into Europe, but a second pandemic beginning in Bengal in 1826 spread rapidly across Asia and the middle East. 

By August 1830 it had reached Moscow, and helped by large numbers of refugees from a savage military campaign in Poland, it travelled rapidly along the complex of busy trade routes across Europe.  It carried with it a terrifying reputation, and even though its impact in Britain was far less damaging than had first been feared, it would cause over 31,000 deaths in England, Scotland and Wales in the years 1831 to 1832. 

The British quarantine regulations were developed from those devised to combat plague and yellow fever.

The 31,000 deaths were from a population of 16.54 million (this website explains the figures from the 1831 census).  I think the population of England, Scotland and Wales is now about 65.4m people.

Dr Simpson [who studied the 1832 outbreak] wrote in 1849: 

If quarantine could be strictly enforced, there cannot be the slightest doubt that it would be successful.  The difficulties, however, of enforcing quarantine, between countries where extensive commercial intercourse is constantly going on, would appear to be quite insurmountable.

Internal quarantine was considered:

The Board of Health had considered the possibility of internal quarantine to limit the spread of cholera once it arrived, but it was obviously impracticable.  Given the terrifying nature of the disease reported in Asia and eastern Europe, they recommended local isolation of the first cases and the separation of the sick from the healthy.  This was to be done by a network of local Boards of Health.  The Board envisaged the removal of the sick into cholera hospitals, and thence into convalescent homes, while their contacts would be taken into isolation houses; if all three buildings could be in the same enclosure, this could be conveniently guarded by the local military.  Their homes would be purified with chloride of lime and hot lime wash; the dead would be buried swiftly in ground close to the house for the infected.  Their first circular, published in the press, called for local Boards to be established,

There should be established a local board of health, to consist of the Chief and other Magistrates, the Clergyman of the parish, two or more Physicians or Medical Practitioners, and three or more of the Principal Inhabitants…

The Central Board advised the magistrates to prevent, as far as possible, intercourse with any infected town.  Magistrates and clergy were asked to improve the conditions in which cholera spread:

the poor, ill-fed, and unhealthy part of the population, and especially those who have been addicted to the drinking of spirituous liquors, and indulgence in irregular habits, have been the greatest sufferers from the disease…. 

This circular was published on 20 October 1831 shortly before the news of the first official case of cholera was confirmed in Sunderland in late October. 

Cholera came to Hutton Rudby at nine o'clock in the evening on Tuesday 2 October 1832, when the weaver John Cook came back from Newcastle to his home in the Bay Horse Yard.

More on Joseph Honeyman (d 1848)

Dave Honneyman has just contacted me to say that the Joseph Honeyman of my last post (the seaman who died of cholera on board the brig Zephyr in the West Dock at Hartlepool at the end of October 1848) was, as I thought, the son of Thomas Honeyman and Ann Whorlton and it was Joseph who appeared in the Hutton Rudby census of 1841 as a cartwright's apprentice.

Dave tells me that Joseph's cousin Thomas joined the Navy in 1844 and he wonders if that was the reason that Joseph went to sea.

Thank you, Dave!  So nice to hear from you.  Anybody researching the Honeyman family should check out the information that Dave sent me in 2013, which can be found here:  Honeymans and Whorltons.

Joseph Honeyman of Hutton Rudby, dies of cholera in 1848

York Herald, 4 November 1848

CASE OF CHOLERA, AND CAUTION TO DRUNKARDS

On Tuesday last, an inquest was held before Mr John Settle, at the Angel Inn, in Stranton, on view of the body of Joseph Honeyman, a native of Hutton Rudby, in Yorkshire, and who was a seaman on board the brig Zephyr, then lying in the West Dock, at Hartlepool, on board of which the deceased was viewed by the jurors.  

From the evidence, it appeared that the deceased had been drinking for several days, in London, previous to the vessel leaving the Thames, and that he had got quit of about nine sovereigns in eight days, during which time he had been drunk every day.  

When off Flambro' Head on Saturday last, the deceased was suddenly attacked about five o'clock in the afternoon with illness.  He was sick and vomited very much, he was purged and subjected to cramps, and was also cold at the extremities.  He lingered about thirty hours from his first being seized, and died on board the Zephyr, at the harbour of the West Dock.  

Dr Green, of Hartlepool, attended the deceased on the arrival of the ship, and, at the inquest, he stated that deceased's was a case of malignant Asiatic cholera, the exciting cause being drink.  Deceased was 24 years of age.  Verdict, "Natural death, from Asiatic cholera."

On the Hartlepool History Then and Now website you can see a Public Notice dated 8 August 1848 warning the inhabitants of the cholera:

From information received almost daily in this country, from many parts of the Continent, it is manifest that, that dreadful scourge of human life, the CHOLERA, is spreading its devastating influence over many parts; and, from all accounts, the inhabitants of this country have the strongest reasons for dreading its quick approach to these Isles; and of all the towns in the kingdom, none can have greater cause of fear than Hartlepool ...

The same website has a picture of the West Harbour and Dock dated 1848.

A few weeks before the death of Joseph Honeyman, the Darlington and Stockton Times of 14 October 1848 had carried the report that "considerable apprehension and alarm" had been excited in Hartlepool the previous Saturday when a rumour spread that a young passenger on the Highland Chief out of South Shields had died of the cholera.  

It was Dr Green, with a police officer, who went aboard to establish the facts, and he decided  that it had not been a cholera case.  The belongings of the poor young man, Isaac Forsyth Arthur, were removed ("his trunk, portmanteau, &c") and the Highland Chief continued on her voyage to Naples.  The jury decided that he had died from exhaustion, caused by sea-sickness.  He was about 20 years old, and had been a student in the Free College at Edinburgh.

This was the second visitation of the Asiatic cholera to the United Kingdom.  Hutton Rudby itself had suffered in the first terrible epidemic in 1832.  For a full account see 'The Year of the cholera', chapter 11 of Remarkable, but still True, my book about the Rev R J Barlow of Hutton Rudby.

Already in 1832, a link had been made between alcohol and the disease.  To quote from that chapter:

The abuse of alcohol was frequently linked with vulnerability to cholera, by the newspapers and the doctors.  It struck a chord with the public, as this was the dawn of the temperance movement, and alcohol now carried increasing associations of poverty and lack of self-control.  Moreover, the usual medical advice was to abstain from strong liquor during the epidemic and take wine in moderation.  In fact the gastritis and malnutrition caused by excessive use of alcohol did favour the disease.

And the unfortunate young man at the heart of this story –

There is one Joseph Honeyman in Hutton Rudby in the 1841 Census who was of the right age.  Joseph, aged 17 or 15 (it is hard to tell whether 7 or 5 was the correction) was the son of Thomas Honeyman, weaver, and his wife Ann, and he was in 1841 a cartwright's apprentice.  He must have left the village for a more exciting life ...

Joseph Skelton, grocer & draper of Hutton Rudby in 1830

Perry's Bankrupt Gazette, 13 February 1830

Assignments

To Trustees for the equal benefit of Creditors, pursuant to 6th Geo. IV. cap. 16, sec. 4 

SKELTON Joseph, (Dec. 14) of Hutton, near Rudby, Yorkshire, grocer & draper.  Trustees, F Richardson, of Stokesley, gent. and R Tate, of Easby, farmer.  Sol[icitor]. Mr [William] Garbutt, Stokesley

Perry's Bankrupt Gazette, 26 February 1831

Insolvents applying to be discharged 

Court-house, York, for the county, 11th March, at eleven.
CATCHASIDES James, jun. of Hutton Rudby, near Stokesley, genl. shopkpr. late of Ormesby, near Guisborough, out of business
CATCHASIDES James, senior, of Hutton Rudby, near Stokesley, Yorkshire, publican and blacksmith 

The Joseph Skelton who went bankrupt in 1830 must have been the husband of Elizabeth ("Betty") Catchasides, whose father and brother applied for their discharge in 1831.  Clearly times were hard in Hutton Rudby in those years.

Joseph and Betty had married on 3 August 1826, when she was about 42 years old.  She was the daughter of the elderly couple, James & Grace Catchasides, who kept the Bay Horse Inn at the top of Hutton Bank, beside her father's smithy.

Betty, her father, mother and brother all died in the first week of the cholera outbreak in Hutton Rudby. 

For the full story of the year of the cholera and what happened to the unfortunate Catchasides, go to this post from 2012, where you will find the relevant chapter of my book Remarkable, but still True: the story of the Revd R J Barlow and Hutton Rudby in the time of the cholera.

More on the cholera and the Rev R J Barlow

This exchange of letters casts more light on the events of the Cholera Epidemic in Hutton Rudby in the autumn of 1832:  Mr Peacock uses Mr Barlow's activities during the epidemic to strike back at critics of the Established Church.  In his reply, Mr Barlow praises the doctors who came to the assistance of the stricken villagers:-

Yorkshire Gazette, 17 November 1832

To the Editor of the Yorkshire Gazette 

Sir, – It ought to be mentioned, to the praise of a humane and pious clergyman of the Church of England, the Rev. Barlow, vicar of Hutton-Rudby, in Cleveland; – and also as an example "to go and do likewise," – that during the prevalence of the cholera in that village, he never failed to visit every individual afflicted with that dreadful malady, especially the poor and needy; and to administer to their wants and comforts with a truly christian benevolence.  I may also add, that the funeral service was performed by him in the numerous instances of mortality, with a seriousness and solemnity befitting so awful a visitation. – He has indeed raised for himself, in the language of Horace –

"Monumentum aere perennius"

that will live in the grateful recollections of his parishioners. 

Yet such are the men whom it is too much the fashion of the present liberal age to depreciate and vilify!  But what greater injustice can there be, than to cast odious reflections upon the venerable Establishment, because, forsooth, a few of its members may possibly walk unworthily, and in some instances, neglect the duties of their sacred calling.  But let such examples as have been mentioned, have their due praise; – such conduct exhibits the traits of true christian heroism, as well as of humanity, – far more ennobling than the laurels of the warrior when "died in blood, and bedewed with the tears of the widow and the orphan." 

I am ever yours respectfully, 

G C Peacock

Sowerby Grange Academy, near Thirsk,

November 14, 1832

Yorkshire Gazette, 1 December 1832

To the Editor of the Yorkshire Gazette 

Sir. – Having accidentally seen in your Gazette of the 17th inst., a letter signed G C Peacock, of Sowerby Grange, near Thirsk, permit me, through the medium of your excellent and widely-circulated paper, to present unto Mr Peacock my most grateful thanks and acknowledgments for the very handsome and flattering manner in which he has introduced my name to public notice.  Deeply as I feel impressed with a sense of my own unworthiness, if, during the awful pestilence at Hutton Rudby, I have afforded spiritual or temporal comfort to the unhappy sufferers, I trust I may ever feel thankful to the Almighty God, who, in his mercy, not only spared my life, but gave me, as it were, new strength both of mind and body, proportioned to the duties I had to perform. 

Allow me to trespass for a moment longer upon your valuable time, to pay an humble, but just, tribute to the merits of Doctor Keenlyside, of Stockton, and James Allardice, Esq., of Stokesley, our medical assistants, who kindly gave up their own excellent practice, and, with a truly philanthropic spirit, came into the midst of the plague to alleviate the anguish of suffering humanity.  To a stranger nay, to the very people of the village unconnected with the seat of disease, it is unknown how much those gentlemen had to contend with, between prejudice on the one hand, and on the other from the want of an hospital, and all other conveniences which a well regulated town can command; but, to the honour of their names be it recollected, their unwearied attention and benevolence surmounted every difficulty, – for which I do feel myself personally much indebted to them, and for which the inhabitants of Hutton Rudby can never repay them without a grateful remembrance of their names, convinced as they ought to be, that to their assiduity and professional skill alone, under divine Providence, must be attributed the rapid disappearance of the alarming malady. 

I have the honour to remain, Sir, 

Your most obedient Servant.

R J Barlow, Clerk.

Linden Grove, Rudby, Nov. 29th

It does seem a pity that the doctors' names were not remembered – instead, a story grew up that the doctors came out from Northallerton only so far as Doctors Lane, and would not enter the village.

But, as I pointed out in my book, Doctors Lane was known by that name before the Asiatic cholera ever arrived in the British Isles.

Chapter 12. The Aftermath of the Cholera

After a time, however, legends began to gather round the episode.  The combination of a clergyman and a pestilence naturally brought echoes of the well-known story of the plague-stricken Derbyshire village of Eyam, where the parishioners were persuaded by their vicar to shut the village off from the outside world, so as not to spread the infection to their neighbours. 

By the middle of the 20th century the cholera story had distinct overtones of Eyam.  In fact, by some the cholera mound was believed to be a plague mound, dating from many centuries earlier – which may have further confused the issue.

Doctors Lane was by then assumed to be the place where the medical officers coming out from Northallerton halted to discover the progress of the epidemic, coming no nearer for fear of infection.  In fact the name "Doctor Lane" is to be found in a deed of 15 September 1824 [1], and numerous doctors attended the sick, as can be seen from letters and reports – Mr Allardice of Stokesley, Mr Wisker of York, Dr Young of Yarm, Drs Keenlysides and Cock of Stockton, and the "junior aid" referred to by Mr Barlow, which included Dr Crummey. 

Chapter 11. 1832: The year of the Cholera

The year 1832 was one of great political and social upheaval.

The battle for the Reform Bill – witnessed close at hand by Lord Falkland, who was given a peerage of the United Kingdom by his father-in-law that May, and keenly followed by James Barlow Hoy in Hampshire – led to riots in many areas.

The citizens of York burnt the Archbishop in effigy outside his palace when, through a misunderstanding, he voted to defeat the Bill [1].  In the pocket borough of Northallerton there were lively scenes in support of reform, with a great open-air party at Brompton.

When the Bill was finally passed, the change in suffrage necessitated another general election, and in December 1832 James Barlow Hoy stood again as candidate for Southampton, this time successfully.

It was also the year that established Mr Barlow in the affections of his parishioners and made his reputation for posterity.  This was the year of the cholera.