Frightful Accident at Sleights Station: 1 August 1901

On 2 August 1901, the Whitby Gazette carried a shocking headline:

Frightful Accident at Sleights Station

A Whitby Lady Cut To Pieces

This is the story – two elderly ladies – and a busy railway station in the age of steam.

Sleights station by Maniac Pony at English Wikipedia, CC BY 2.5

On the evening of Thursday 1 August 1901, two old ladies, the Misses Emma and Harriet Williamson, had walked down to the station after spending a couple of hours calling on friends in Sleights.  Emma was the elder, at 84 years of age; Harriet was 81.  They wanted to catch the 7:36 home to Whitby.  It would come from the Grosmont direction and there was indeed a train coming that way – they thought it was theirs, and that they were just in time.  But first they must cross the line to the down platform.  

There was a level crossing where the road to Whitby crossed the railway track and the station buildings and its platforms lay between the old ladies and the oncoming train – they thought they would have time to get across as the train drew to a halt at the station, so they went through the little gate at the level crossing.  

The signalman shouted, "Keep back!" 

George Wilkinson, a 53 year old builder and joiner from Sleights, who had gone to the down platform for some parcels and had been held up at the gates as he set off back home, saw the old ladies – he knew them quite well – and he shouted.  

James Moor, aged 51, gamekeeper for Mr Robert Yeoman at Grove Hall, Woodlands at Aislaby was waiting at the station too.  He saw the ladies crossing – he thought if it was stopping at the station they might just catch the train – he shouted to them as hard as he could, telling them to get along.

The ladies didn't seem to hear.  

It wasn't their train.  It was an excursion train from York, which had taken people on a day's outing to Whitby, and it was on its way back to Whitby to pick up the tired and happy holidaymakers for their journey home.  The crew had spent the last four hours at Grosmont – plenty of time for a cup of tea – because there wasn't enough room for the empty train to wait in the sidings at Whitby.  It wasn't due to stop at Sleights at all.

The excursion train – six carriages and two vans – had rounded the sharp curve about 170 yards before Sleights station.  It had come into view of the station.  Now it was whistling continuously.  

John William Pearson, aged 43, was the driver.  He had already shut off steam and slowed up on the approach to Sleights because the distance signal had been against him, but it had been lowered as they passed through and he had picked up steam again.  He had obeyed the directive to all drivers to whistle as they came within 200 yards of Sleights station. 

Now he saw a lady about to cross the line.  She hadn't yet reached the metals – the rails.  Seeing she was in danger, he shut off steam, he applied the brakes, he was pulling on the whistle all the time.

And then he saw that there was a second lady about to cross behind the first.  He had a good view – he was coming in tender first, which he felt gave him a far better view than if the engine had been first, under the circumstances – and he thought he was doing about 25-30 mph at the time.  

The guard Harold Clough Emmerson, aged 42, said at the inquest that he thought they were going rather slower, at 20-25 mph.  He couldn't see the ladies himself because the train blocked his view – all he could see was "an old gentleman on a trap waving for them to stop".

As the engine arrived at the level crossing, John Pearson lost sight of both ladies.  

George Wilkinson, waiting at the gates, saw the younger of the two make a little rush forward and just manage to clear the rails – he thought for a moment that the elder lady was going to get across – but the train struck her and whirled her round so that she went under it.  He didn't think she ever saw the train or heard it.  All the train went over her, and the lady was literally cut to pieces.  

John Pearson feared both ladies had been killed when "he felt something like a thud" on impact.  He brought the train to a standstill just after passing the crossing, "the last vehicle," he said at the inquest, "being near the bridge."  He had done everything he could.  The train had stopped in about 80 yards, little more than its own length.  

He got down at once, leaving the fireman on the engine, and then he saw Miss Emma Williamson.  The engine and all the carriages must have passed over her.  "She was terribly cut, and mangled most fearfully – the scene was dreadful."  He didn't know how the first lady had escaped.  

Miss Harriet thought that her sister was crossed the tracks just behind her.  She didn't see what happened and she must have stood there wondering at the scene, with the men gathering about the train in alarm.

John Pearson spoke for a while with Watson Bulmer, the 38 year old station master.  And then he got back in the cabin to attend to his duty – he had to take the train to Whitby for the return journey to York.

And it was only when the train had left the station that Miss Harriet saw that her sister had been killed.  She was in a most dreadful state of shock – someone must have taken her home to No 8 Park Terrace in Whitby.

Watson Bulmer organised the removal of poor Miss Emma's remains to the station buildings to await the coroner's instructions.  In the early hours of the morning they were taken "in a shell" to her home in Park Terrace.

Everyone who had seen the accident must have been very much shocked and shaken.  The driver and guard went home to York – John Pearson to 11 Drake Street, off Nunnery Lane, to his wife Rose, and Harold Emmerson to his wife Zillah and their four children – the youngest was only a baby – at 13 St Ann Street in Walmgate.  George Wilkinson went up to Sleights to his wife Jane and the family – six children, with Stanley the youngest at 10 years old.  James Moor would go home to Aislaby, to his wife Hannah and their children.  The men would all be wanted the following week to give evidence at the Coroner's Inquest.

The next afternoon, the coroner George Buchannan, a Whitby solicitor, opened the inquest at the County Hotel just to hear Miss Harriet bravely give her very brief evidence.  The coroner was a familiar figure to her – he was her cousin Ann Langborne's son.  She told him that she did not blame the driver of the train or any one else in the least – the blame, she said, was their own.

The accident shocked and horrified the area.  The Misses Williamson had many friends and relations and they were well known for their charitable work.  So when, on the afternoon of Saturday 3 August, Miss Emma was buried in Sleights Churchyard, it was amid great sympathy and sorrow.  

St John the Evangelist, Sleights by Nigelcoates at English Wikipedia CC BY-SA 3.0

It must have been a very well-attended and solemn funeral.  Three clergymen took the service and signed the burial register – the Revd Hugh P D Walker, vicar of Sleights, the Revd George Austen, the Rector of Whitby, and his curate the Revd Michael A Horsfall.  The church bells rang a muffled peal.

On Wednesday 9 August, George Buchannan resumed the inquest.  

John Pearson – he always gave his name in official documents such as census forms as John W. Pearson, but the Whitby Gazette's reporter caught his name as William Pearson – explained the actions he had taken.  

"So far as you were concerned," asked the Coroner, "you did everything in your power?" – "Yes, everything, Sir."

Harold Emmerson and James Moor testified.  George Wilkinson explained to the coroner and jury that the last accident at that level crossing had happened 30 or 40 years ago.  He thought the danger at Sleights crossing was chiefly because so many trains were timed to meet there together, and because of obstructed sight lines.  The railway line in the Grosmont direction was on a curve and the view towards Whitby was blocked by a house, which belonged to the railway company and occupied by a platelayer.  People at the station had a very limited view in either direction.  He thought it would be quite practicable to make a bridge.

The District Superintendent of the Traffic Department, Mr John Bradford Harper, said a footbridge would make crossing safer, if only the public would use one.  They found that it was hard to stop people from crossing the rails and where, as at Sleights, there had to be a "sleeper crossing" for luggage, then the public would use the luggage crossing rather than a bridge.  As there was a rule prohibiting putting up a fence within 4 feet of a running line, it was virtually impossible to stop them doing this.

The Jury returned a verdict of accidental death by a passing train.  And they requested the Coroner to communicate to the North-Eastern Railway Company their opinion that a footbridge should be provided and that the cottage which obstructed the view towards Whitby be removed.

Miss Harriet decided on a fitting and beautiful memorial to her sister, and to her mother and brother.  She engaged the celebrated designer Charles Eamer Kempe (1837-1907) to create a stained glass window for the church of St John the Evangelist at Sleights.  On 13 March 1903, the Whitby Gazette reported this generous gift had been installed.  The window showed John the Baptist indicating Christ as the Lamb of God and the inscription was  

In the reverence of God, and in loving memory of Elizabeth, William and Emma Williamson, this window is dedicated, AD MDCCCCIII

Miss Harriet Williamson died three months later aged 83 on 13 June.  She was buried at Sleights with her mother, brother and sister on 17 June 1903.

Long hours at the Stokesley drapers' shops: 1856

In the shopping season, a story with echoes of our time? 

In the middle of the 19th century, Stokesley had up to half a dozen drapers' shops.  The 1854 Directory listed four; the 1867 Directory listed six.  

On 10 May 1856, a letter appeared in the York Herald under the heading "Early Closing at Stokesley":

To the Editors of the York Herald

Gentlemen,

I am glad to observe that the Helmsley shopkeepers have adopted the early closing movement, and are requesting their town's people to make their purchases at an early hour.  The drapers' assistants, &c., have just cause of complaint on account of the late hours they are detained in most of the establishments at Stokesley.  I should, therefore, be glad to see the tradesmen of our pretty little town adopting the same principle, as, by so doing, they would allow the young men in their employment an acceptable hour, for recreation and mental improvement, after the hour of closing, viz, eight o'clock; but, as it is, I regret to see, it is generally near nine o'clock before the principal shops here are closed.

I trust the young ladies especially will kindly take the hint, and contrive to make their purchases before seven o'clock; and, if they do so, no doubt their praiseworthy conduct will be copied by their seniors, and be duly appreciated by the young gentlemen who attend to their wishes, behind the counter, from "morning dawn to dewy eve."

I am, Gentlemen, yours respectfully,

A Friend of Young Men

Stokesley, May 6th, 1856

It was a tactful appeal in a campaign that had already been running for nearly 20 years.  

In the 1830s, shopkeepers in some towns and cities had agreed between them to close up an hour early in the winter months.  Drapers' assistants in Leeds "respectfully invited" their employers to look at the drapers in York, Sheffield and Halifax, where the shops had begun to close at 7 o'clock.  

In 1842, the Bradford Observer hailed the decision of the grocers to close at 8 o'clock – the extra hour for themselves gave the young men a chance of "improvement both of mind and body".  On 28 October 1843, "A Linen Draper" wrote to the Leeds Intelligencer pointing out that it had been possible even in the busiest time of the summer to close at 8 o'clock, so why not close at 7 o'clock for November to February?  Saturday closing could be brought forward too, to 10 o'clock. He thought it was only long-established custom that held back the change because, in those four months, business was very nearly always over before 7 pm.  He thought both employer and employed would benefit by earlier closing.

In the late 1840s, Early Closing Associations began to be formed.  The Manchester and Salford Association copied the London association's rules.  Their motives were high-minded: reducing the hours of business "with a view to the physical, moral, and intellectual improvement of those engaged therein."  

Their aims were 

(1) to appeal to the public not to shop in the evenings, by a PR campaign of meetings, sermons, lectures, pamphlets and through the press

(2)  to get employers to realise the advantages to be gained from earlier closing

(3) to make sure that shop assistants understood the importance of using the extra time to improve their minds by attending literary institutions, lectures and libraries – and the advantages they would gain by working hard, behaving correctly and learning

(4)  by only using peaceful, persuasive means with employers, however hostile to the movement the employers might be

There were to be committees for each branch of the retail trade.  Each committee would send members to a general committee.  Employees were to be Ordinary Members of the Association and they would pay four shillings a year membership.  Employers and others could choose to pay the minimum of a guinea (one pound and one shilling) a year or make a donation of five guineas.

Like a trade union, but without any teeth …

In October 1851, the London Weekly Chronicle reported the Association's claim that most employers wanted to close their shops earlier, but that they were frustrated in some districts by a few tradesmen who wouldn't join in.  The Association appealed to the public to stop shopping in the evenings.  The article gave the example of some of the insurance companies, which were copying the large East India firms and the Stock Exchange by closing at 2 o'clock on Saturdays.  A piece in the City column of The Times had reported that this had given satisfaction all round – and that condensing work into the reduced opening hours had been found to produce more economical and efficient results.  (Echoes of the debate today on "presentism" in the office and on productivity in the UK?)

In the winter of 1871, the argument had moved on to half-day closing.  Some towns had already adopted the practice of having a half-day holiday one afternoon of the week.  Battle was raging in Whitby – should the town do the same?  As it was, the assistants only had Sunday off and so they used it for recreation and having fun instead of going to church.

A draper signing himself "W" wrote to the Whitby Gazette on 25 November.  In a long letter, he laid into the "mania" for early closing.  He said the Early Closing "movement" was the "work of draper lads, upstart journeymen, and small tradesmen" and he declared himself disgusted with it.  "Laziness" was all that lay behind it.  The youths wanted more time to be idle, to play cards and to go to the pub.  His description of their working day brought a flood of indignant letters to the Gazette, insisting that most drapers' assistants had to be at their posts at 8 o'clock in the morning and they didn't leave until 7 o'clock at night.  If they lived on the premises, their three meals a day were squeezed into those hours and would take up only 45 minutes or an hour.

Meanwhile during the 19th century there was also the battle of Sunday Observance.  On the one side were those desperately keen to preserve Sunday for worship and rest.  On the other side were all the people whose only day off was Sunday.  Charles Dickens fought this battle fiercely, seeing nothing but cant and hypocrisy in well-to-do men with comfortable homes and private clubs attempting to pass laws that would take from the people their only day of recreation.  

And then, towards the end of the century, the question of the health of young men and women kept on their feet in shops and warehouses for long hours became a major matter of interest.  Death and Disease behind the Counter was written by the barrister Thomas Sutherst in 1884 and later The Lancet took up the cause.  

At last, towards the end of the century, the Shop Acts began to be passed.  It had been a long campaign.

14. Epilogue: 1688

Alice had lived through many changes in her long life – and the restoration of King Charles II in 1661 wasn't the last of the political convulsions that she saw.  Charles II had no legitimate children, so when he died in 1685 it was his Catholic brother James who came to the throne.  His brief reign went downhill quickly.  

James II

Seven influential Protestants wrote to the Protestant prince William of Orange – who was James' nephew and married to his daughter Mary – inviting him to invade and promising they would rise in support.  One of the seven was Alice's first cousin Thomas Osborne, Lord Danby.  

He was the boy who survived the roof collapse in York in 1638 because he was looking for his cat under the table.  He had a long and chequered career as a stateman – he was impeached twice.  He had led the government of Charles II during the 1670s and been made Earl of Danby in 1674.  He was a fierce opponent of Catholics and Nonconformists, and a keen supporter of an alliance with the Dutch Republic.  In fact, he had negotiated the marriage of William of Orange with Charles II's niece Mary in spite of her father's opposition.  But he didn't have a talent for friendship.  Pale, lean and sickly looking, he needed his government position to make money and he stayed in power by corruption.  People said he was proud, ambitious, false, revengeful and greedy.  He had been brought down in 1678 and ended up in the Tower of London for five years.  But he was back in the House of Lords for 1688.

Thomas Osborne
1st Duke of Leeds (1632-1712)

William of Orange landed at Brixham in Devon with a large army on Guy Fawkes' Day 1688.  Lord Danby kept his word.  As William began to advance east, Lord Danby and his men – including Henry Belasyse, the son of Sir Richard Belasyse of Potto – took York and Hull.  (Lord Danby's reward was to be made Marquess of Carmarthen in 1689 and Duke of Leeds in 1694).

James' support collapsed and William and Mary became joint rulers of England and Scotland.  But the Catholic Irish stood out for James and for two and a half years, until William secured victory over James, Ireland was once again submerged in bloody conflict.  

The war in Ireland ended in October 1691.  The three kingdoms were now under a constitutional monarchy and Ireland would be dominated by a Protestant élite for the two centuries that followed.

William of Orange
(William III of England) (1650-1702) 

Note 

These events are known as the Glorious Revolution and the Williamite War.

For sources of this series of blogposts, see Alice Wandesford in the Wars of the Three Kingdoms

13. Mrs Alice Thornton of East Newton: 1660-1707

 

East Newton Hall today  [By Roger Smith CC BY-SA 2.0]

Alice made her home among her husband's people and remained at East Newton for the rest of her days.  Her marriage had been one of convenience born out of family necessity.  Unfortunately, William's position and fortune turned out less than expected and he didn't manage their finances well, so that Alice's inheritance from her mother had to be used to rescue them.  And he wasn't the strong support that Mrs Wandesford must have wished for Alice, and often he was not much practical use, being frequently ailing and melancholic.  

But a very real love grew between him and Alice.  She was deeply grieved when he died aged forty-four on 17 September 1668.  He was, she wrote, 

a most dear and tender, virtuous and loving husband, which took part with me in all my sorrows and sufferings, comforted me in sadnesses.  We walked together in dear love and union.

And what happened to the others?

Her widowed brother-in-law Sir Thomas Danby had died aged 50 not long after Alice left Richmondshire.  He was in London at the time of his death in August 1660 and he was buried in the north choir aisle of York Minster.  

His heir was his eldest son Thomas Danby – he had gone to Dublin with Mrs Wandesford and had to leave in a hurry when the rebellion broke out.  Thomas married Margaret Eure in 1659, was MP for Malton and the first Mayor of Leeds.  He was killed in a sword fight in a London tavern in 1667.  The circumstances were murky.  Alice's great-grandson Thomas Comber recorded in his memoir of Lord Deputy Christopher Wandesford that in 1776 he was told by William Danby of Swinton that it was murder, carried out at the instigation of Thomas's wife Margaret. 

Thomas and Margaret had two sons.  The eldest boy, another Thomas, inherited the estates but died unmarried and was succeeded by his younger brother Christopher.  Christopher died a couple of years later from a fall from his horse while out hunting on Watlass moor.  Neither boy reached the age of 21.

So the Danby estates passed in 1683 to the boys' 50 year old uncle Christopher.  He was the younger of the boys who had been in Dublin with the Wandesfords.  

Christopher had gone out to Virginia in his twenties and there he had met and married – without his father's permission – Anne Colepepper.  Much later, Anne was to write an account of her marriage for her son Abstrupus and in it she described Christopher unflatteringly as an "imprudent weak husband".  Their marriage had caused a family rift and it was because of this, and money disputes with his brother Thomas, and especially because of great ill-feeling between Anne and her sister-in-law Margaret, that Christopher and Anne Danby were often with Alice and William Thornton.  This ended badly when Anne turned on Alice and began to spread malicious and unfounded gossip against her – which was the reason why Alice wrote her autobiography to vindicate herself.  

When Christopher inherited the estates, he turned them over to his son.  Abstrupus made money in the wool trade, sold off the outlying estates including Thorp Perrow and began the building of the mansion house at Swinton Park.  

Alice's troubled brother John had died before she was widowed.  He was aged 32 and MP for Richmond at the time of his death on 2 December 1666.  The poor man was often ill – his mental health had been uncertain ever since the death of his brother George.  Alice took comfort in the fact that, although he had been suffering badly with ague and violent fits of the stone, he had had the perfect use of his reason and understanding for the six months before his death.  He was buried at the parish church of Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire.

In 1683 Alice lost her beloved Aunt Norton.  Her father's sister Anne had always been a great comfort and support to her, going over to East Newton when Alice badly needed her and giving good advice by letter.  She died in 1683 at a great age – nearly 90 – and was buried in Richmond, where her husband Maulger had been buried ten years earlier.  They had suffered the loss of children in infancy, but the loss of their two eldest sons must have been particularly hard.

Their eldest son Edmund Norton – whose troop of dragoons was encountered by George Wandesford on Marston Moor – died of pleurisy in 1648 in York.  He had been married only the year before.  He was buried at the church of St Michael le Belfrey.  His younger brother William Norton was a barrister.  He was killed in an affray in a London tavern in December 1666 aged 39.  

When the malicious lies spread by Anne Danby reached the ears of Mrs Anne Norton in Richmond, she went straight to East Newton to support Alice.  And when she had to go home – where she made it her business to speak to various people who had believed the gossip and to put them straight – Alice wrote,

she sent my good friend Dafeny to be with me and comfort me, which she did much

Mrs Wandesford relied upon Dafeny Lightfoote, Alice's sister Catherine died in her arms, she was there at Mrs Wandesford's deathbed, and when Alice was so unwell that her mother would not let her breastfeed her new baby Elizabeth, Dafeny took on the duty of wet nurse until she herself fell pregnant.  

She had come to Mrs Wandesford's service as an unmarried girl – her surname was Carrall or Cassell (the Surtees edition differs from the Anselment edition).  She and George Lightfoote went with the family to Hipswell when they had to leave Kirklington and they married soon afterwards.  They were trusted, literate people – George was perhaps Mrs Wandesford's steward.  He was a witness to Mrs Wandesford's Will and Dafeny was there when the Will was made and when the inventory of Mrs Wandesford's goods was taken.  When Dafeny returned to Richmondshire, she too spoke to people of importance in the neighbourhood and put the record straight for Alice.  She was at East Newton in 1668 and was a witness at young Naly's marriage to Thomas Comber.  When she left, Alice gave her as a token of gratitude 

a young cow and calf to sustain her house, with other good things, which she had deserved for her faith and fidelity to me and my poor children, and sent her husband a bible and a pound of tobacco.

Alice's brother Sir Christopher – he had been one of the many gentlemen of Royalist families to be given a baronetcy in 1662 – died in London on 23 February 1686.  He was buried in the Wandesford chapel in the parish church at Kirklington.  Alice lived long enough to see her nephew Christopher made Baron Wandesford and Viscount Castlecomer.  

Three of Alice's nine children – Naly, Catherine and Robert – survived early childhood.  Alice's ninth and last child had been born at East Newton in November 1667 when she was 41.  She had suffered terribly in labour in the past and in this one she had never been so near to death.  The babe was a fortnight old when he died.  She lost her husband a year later when Naly was sixteen, Catherine twelve, and Robert only six.  

Alice had such high hopes for Robert's future.  She had managed to finance his studies at university – he had taken a degree at University College, Oxford and been a Fellow of Magdalen College.  In 1692, when he was rector of the parish of Boldon in County Durham, he died.  He was 30 years old and he had proposed and been accepted by a lady with a fortune of £2,800 only two months earlier – a match that his brother-in-law Thomas Comber had found for him.  He was buried in front of the second altar in the Chapel of Nine Altars in Durham Cathedral; Naly had a stone with a Latin inscription placed there to commemorate him. 

Catherine was married in 1682 to the Revd Thomas Purchase, who was first rector of Langton on Swale and then of Kirkby Wiske.  She was widowed in 1696 at the age of 40 after fourteen years of marriage and the birth of six children.  Two years later she married Robert Danby of Northallerton.

Naly had been married to the 23 year old Rev Thomas Comber in 1668 when she was a couple of months short of her fifteenth birthday.  The marriage wasn't made public for six months, so it may not have been consummated until then.  It seems likely that it was the poor health of both Naly's parents, the lack of people on whom Alice could rely for support, and the high opinion both she and William had of this young man that made them so anxious for the match.  He was eminent in theology and was made Dean of Durham.  He and Naly had four sons and two daughters; he died at the age of 54 in 1699.

Alice lived out her years of impoverished widowhood at East Newton.  She died aged nearly 80 in early 1707 and was buried beside her husband in Stonegrave Minster.  She was survived by her daughters and left her manuscripts to Naly.  

Stonegrave Minster

Next: 14. Epilogue: 1688

Footnote:

Naly's grandson – the son of her daughter Alice and Francis Blackburne of Richmond – was the Revd Francis Blackburne (1705-87).  A noted scholar, he was Archdeacon of Cleveland and Rector of Richmond.  His son, the Revd Francis Blackburne (1748-1816), was vicar of Hutton Rudby for six years from 1774.  During that time he married a local girl – Ann Rowntree, the daughter of Christopher Rowntree of Middleton-on-Leven.  

The Blackburnes' story is told here in The Revd Francis Blackburne (1748-1816) of Rudby-in-Cleveland.

7. The Siege of York & Battle of Marston Moor: 1644

 Mrs Wandesford could now turn her mind to her sons' education.  

She need have no worries for her eldest, George.  He was happy and safe in France completing his education with Mr George Anderson, an excellent man and a wise scholar.  (He was also a Scot who was zealous for the Church of England, which must explain why he was an expatriate).  But fifteen-year-old Christopher was causing her a great deal of concern.  He was still suffering terribly from the fit of the spleen – the depression – that had gripped him since his father's funeral.  His torments, Alice remembered, were dreadful to witness.  Mrs Wandesford had exhausted every possible cure and the family's tender care had been unavailing.  But now she could send him to the famous physician Dr John Bathurst, who was in York. 

Dr John Bathurst (1607-59)

So in November 1643, Christopher was sent to York, where he was successfully treated by Dr Bathurst and where he could go to school.  At the same time, his younger brother John began to attend the Grammar School at Bedale.  Life looked very promising.

Unfortunately – 

On 15 September 1643 the King and the Irish rebels had signed a one year truce.  The King could now transfer troops from Ireland to England.  Not only that – he was planning to send Irish Catholic forces to Scotland to join with Royalists there.  But the very idea of Catholic forces was anathema to many in Scotland and England.  The Parliamentarians were now looking at defeat so they came together against their common enemy with the Scottish Covenanters.  On 25 September they signed their agreement – it was called the Solemn League and Covenant.  It was a military alliance and a religious pact.  The Covenanters intended England to have the same form of religion as the Scots.

On 19 January 1644, the Army of the Covenant under Alexander Leslie, Earl of Leven marched into England.  On 28 January, the Scottish advance guard was at Morpeth.  The garrison at Newcastle was inadequate – the Marquess of Newcastle led his men out of York to reinforce it, reaching there on 2 February with only hours to spare before the Scots arrived.

Alexander Leslie, 1st Earl of Leven (1581-1661)

For two months the armies manoeuvred against each other in Northumberland and County Durham, but on 12 April the Royalists were forced to evacuate Durham and Lumley Castle.  The Marquess of Newcastle aimed to make a stand at Piercebridge.

During the winter months, Mrs Wandesford had been considering her plans.  Friends advised her to move to York, where both Christopher and John could get an excellent education – and the prospect of a social life must have appealed to her, for herself and for Alice.  She had made up her mind to the plan, packed up her goods and they were on their way when they met with a messenger from a friend, Thomas Danby of South Cave.  He had sent them urgent word that they must turn back because York would soon be under siege.  This must have been just after 11 April, when Parliamentary forces had stormed and taken Selby and York was laid open to attack.  One of the commanders, Sir Thomas Fairfax of Denton Hall in the West Riding, wrote to a friend, 

The blow has made us Masters of the Field in Yorkshire, God grant we may maintain it; and then nothing can hinder us to Teese-side.

So Mrs Wandesford turned back.  She and her two children went to Kirklington, where the Revd Robert Dagget took them into his home until the Hall could be ready for their occupation.  But sixteen-year-old Christopher was in York.

When the Marquess of Newcastle heard of the loss of Selby, he had to leave Piercebridge and march south to reinforce York.  The Scots were coming south behind him.  On 14 April, they occupied Darlington.  The next day they were at Northallerton, where one Royalist regiment resisted them – a forlorn hope.  

The Marquess of Newcastle reached York on 18 April.  The city's Roman and mediaeval walls had been repaired and strengthened in 1642 and an outer ring of earthworks and forts built beyond the walls.  Cannon were mounted on Bootham Bar, Walmgate Bar, Monkgate Bar and Micklegate Bar, and on the castle itself.  The garrison was well provisioned and fully manned.  

On 22 April, the Army of Both Kingdoms – the Parliamentarians and and their Scottish allies – was at York.  The formidable city was now besieged and Christopher Wandesford was inside the walls.

York Castle in 1644

Notes

Dr John Bathurst was the founder of the Bathurst family fortunes.  They owned lead mines in Arkengarthdale and held the manor of Skutterskelfe for a hundred years from about 1659.  The Bathurst Charity is still active in Hutton Rudby.

Alice puts the Battle of Marston Moor as happening on the same day as they were turned back by the message from Mr Thomas Danby, but it's clear from the context that this was not the case. 

George Wandesford & the Battle of Marston Moor: July 1644

On 1 July 1644, the King's gifted young nephew Prince Rupert of the Rhine outwitted the Allied generals and raised the York siege.  The Allies had concentrated their troops on Marston Moor and Hessay Moor, the uncultivated common land to the west of York between Long Marston and Tockwith.  

Rupert of the Rhine (1619-82)

On 2 July at nine in the morning they learned that the Prince's army was approaching them.

There were now five armies at York.  On the Royalist side, there were the 18,000 men of the armies of the Prince and of the Marquess of Newcastle.  On the Allied side, there were 28,000 men made up of Lord Leven's Army of the Covenant, Lord Fairfax's Northern Association and the Earl of Manchester's Eastern Association.  Lieutenant-General Oliver Cromwell with his regiment of Ironsides formed part of the Eastern Association.  The coming battle – the Battle of Marston Moor – was to be the largest ever fought on English soil.

It was at this moment that 20 year old George Wandesworth arrived on the scene.

George had been obliged to come back from France, hoping to gather some funds from his Yorkshire estates because there was no income coming out of Ireland.  He had been to see his uncle Sir Edward Osborne at Kiveton, which lies about 10 miles east of Sheffield, and was now on his way home.  He and his uncle will have assumed that his best route would lie between Wetherby, which the Allies had taken some months ago, and the besiegers around York.  But Prince Rupert's rapid approach and the manoeuvres of the armies confounded his plans and he found himself among troops preparing for battle – and uncomfortably close to straggling parties of Allied soldiers.  He was glad to come upon his cousin Colonel Edmund Norton's troop of dragoons.  

When he realised what was going to happen, he decided he must go back into York and find his brother Christopher – and in the second lucky coincidence of his day he met young Kit riding out of the town with some other boys.  They were naively going off to see the battle.  A fine brotherly exchange must have taken place before George took his brother up behind him and set off home.  

And then his luck ran out.  He had been seen and recognised in the company of his cousin Edmund Norton and his behaviour was thought suspicious.  A party of Scots horse set off after them.  It was near midnight when George came at last to Kirklington.  He made his way quietly to the gate of the Hall by a back way, not wanting to attract notice by going through the village.  It must have created quite a stir in the household when he and Kit appeared.  

Behind them on Marston Moor, the Allies attacked at half past seven in the evening just as a thunderstorm broke and the Royalists had decided there would be no battle.  It was all over in two hours.  Thomas Danby of South Cave died that day, Alice said, shot to death with a cannon bullet, cut off by the midst of his body as he sat his horse.  The last stand was that of the Marquess of Newcastle's own Northerners, his Northumbrian Whitecoats, who refused quarter and died where they stood.  

Over 4,000 Royalists were dead, and about 300 Allies.  The Allied victory, won for them by Oliver Cromwell's cavalry, had not been inevitable but it was complete.  Two weeks later, the city of York surrendered.  The defeated Royalists were able, under the terms of the surrender, to march out with their arms and colours, on their way to Richmond and Carlisle – but they didn't all get there, because most of the men quickly deserted.   The gates of Micklegate Bar were opened and the victorious Allied armies came into York.   Its churches and the stained glass of the Minster were preserved from pillage and destruction by order of the Allied commanders who now held York for Parliament, the Yorkshiremen Lord Fairfax and his son Sir Thomas Fairfax.  

Sir Thomas Fairfax (1612-71)

This was the end of Royalist control of the North and the beginning of Oliver Cromwell's reputation as a military commander.  The Marquess of Newcastle left for Holland – his fortune had been spent in the King's course and he was unable, he said, to endure the laughter of the court.  Prince Rupert and the remaining Northern cavalry rode out of York on 4 July to Richmond and from there to Lancashire.  

On the coast, the strategically important Mulgrave Castle had been seized by the Royalists in 1642 – now Parliament retook it and used it as a prison.  At Stockton-on-Tees, which the King had been allowed to keep in his agreement with the Scots when they occupied County Durham, the castle's poorly paid and supplied garrison surrendered to the Scots without a fight on 24 July 1644.   

Some 25 miles to the north of York, Helmsley Castle was still held for the King.  In September it was besieged by Parliamentarian forces under Sir Thomas Fairfax himself, who defeated an attempt at rescue by Royalist forces from Knaresborough.  In November, the food ran out and the Royalist commander negotiated a surrender.  He was allowed to march his men off to join the forces holding Scarborough, while Sir Thomas ordered the castle at Helmsley to be slighted – the curtain walls and the east tower were broken down so that the ruin could not be garrisoned again.  Knaresborough castle itself surrendered after a six month siege – like Helmsley and Mulgrave castles, it too was slighted by Parliament.  Stockton castle was destroyed.  Sir Thomas Fairfax was badly wounded at Helmsley by a musket ball that broke his shoulder, but the Royalists who hoped that he would die of his injuries were to be disappointed.  His forces moved on to besiege Scarborough and its castle.  That was to be a long and bloody business.

Helmsley Castle.  [By Barkmatter CC BY-SA 3.0]

More than sixty miles to the north, the city of Newcastle had been holding out against the Scots, the North's old enemy, since they crossed the border.  After York fell, Newcastle had no chance – there was no possibility of a relief force.  In October, the western part of the walls were broken down by artillery bombardment and mines and the Scottish Covenanters fought their way into the city, the Royalist forces retreating into the Castle Keep.  One of the Scots described the horrors – the desperate courage on both sides, the thundering cannons roaring, the thousands of musket balls flying, the clangour and carvings of swords, the pushing of pike, the wailing of women, the carcasses of men like dead dogs in the streets.  The situation was hopeless and the Royalists surrendered.  

The Scots now controlled the Tyne and they had always been able to use the port of Sunderland on the River Wear – the men who ran Sunderland were Puritans and hostile to the King, and Sunderland had been on the side of the Covenanters from the beginning.

Next: 8. Mrs Wandesford moves to Hipswell: 1644-1645 

5. War in Yorkshire: 1642-1643

In Chester, the Wandesfords found a welcome and were treated with kindness and friendship by the gentry families.  Within the strong walls of a city well-stocked with muskets, garrisoned by Royalist troops and with armed watchmen night and day guarding the gates, Mrs Wandesford must have felt she had reached a safe haven for her family and especially for her convalescent daughter and troubled son Christopher.  Refugees like themselves from Ireland were coming into the city, and lawlessness in Cheshire was driving people there, but Sir Thomas Danby was able to relieve her of the care of her grandsons and her twenty-year-old son George was safely in France with his tutor.  

She had many anxieties to deal with.  Besides the health of Alice and Christopher, there were matters from her husband's estates in an increasingly chaotic Ireland to settle, and she was short of money because rents from Yorkshire weren't arriving.  She didn't like to accept the offers of help from friends in Chester, but she had the invaluable support of her brother Sir Edward Osborne.  

Sir Edward Osborne (1596-1647)

He, poor man, had never recovered from the death of his eldest boy Edward in 1638.  Sir Edward had taken the place of Strafford as President of the Council of the North and was living at York Manor in York, the official residence, at the time.  A violent storm brought down a chimneystack which crashed through the roof, killing 17 year old Edward and sparing 6 year old Thomas only because, when the disaster happened, he was looking under a table for his pet cat.  Now Sir Edward was busy as a Commissioner of Array for the King, charged with mustering troops.

York Manor (now King's Manor).  [Tim Green CC by 2.0]

Outside Chester the situation was bad.  

The Wandesfords knew that Scottish troops were no longer in easy reach of their Yorkshire estates – they had left England in August – but now dreadful news kept coming in from Ireland of cruelties and massacres.  Even more appalling versions of the same news, of much larger numbers of Protestants dead, of rapes and tortures and murdered babies, came from the London printers and propagandists.  Anglicans like the Wandesfords were shocked to hear of the desecration of the cathedrals of Winchester and Chichester by Parliamentary troops who smashed the stained glass and the memorials.  Alice shared the opinions of everyone she knew – the King's Scottish and English opponents were men who had wantonly tired of a lawful and peaceable government, the Irish nakedly thirsted after the blood and lives of the English, the religious grievances of the Calvinists and Catholics were nothing but pretence, and the Earl of Strafford was a martyr.  

Yorkshire and the Battle of Piercebridge: 1642

Beyond the walls of Chester – and even within the walls – conflicting loyalties were dividing families, towns and villages.  

London grew too dangerous for the King and he set up his Court in York on 19 March 1642.  The city found itself the capital of the kingdom for six months, housing foreign ambassadors, nobles, the important men of state and a committee sent by Parliament to keep an eye on the King.  

Rival Puritan and Royalist groups fought each other in the streets.  Terrifying stories of massacres in Ireland began to reach Yorkshire and wild fears of Catholic Irish invasion took root.  Having two Catholic priests executed – the head of Father Lockwood, aged nearly 90, was put on Bootham Bar, and the head of young Edmund Catterick of Carlton near Richmond, on Micklegate Bar – couldn't convince doubters that Protestantism was safe in the King's hands.  And it was no use the King decreeing that no Catholics could join his army – at the muster, anyone could see that nearly half the Royalist colonels were Catholic.  Recruitment for Parliament surged among the lower classes in the West Riding.  As time passed and the hope of finding an agreement between the two sides faded, the city authorities began to strengthen York's defences.  

On 22 August 1642, the King marched southward and raised his standard at Nottingham Castle.  He was now at war with Parliament.  

On 23 September, the Wandesfords will have seen the King being enthusiastically welcomed into Chester with great civic ceremony.  He was there because it was an important strategic stronghold, the main port for Ireland and the gateway to Royalist North Wales and he spent a few nights in the city, reviewing the troops of his supporters, before moving on to Wrexham.  A month later, his forces and the Parliamentarians met in battle for the first time.  It was at Edgehill, a dozen miles south-east of Stratford-upon-Avon, and both sides claimed victory.

And what about Yorkshire, where Alice's sister Catherine must now have been in great anxiety for her husband, who had gone to join the King's army?

Hull was held for Parliament by Sir John Hotham and Scarborough by the Whitby landowner Sir Hugh Cholmley, and the independently-minded weavers and small farmers of the West Riding were mostly Puritans, but the North Riding was for the King and the few Parliamentarians there had a poor time of it.  They included men like the Earl of Mulgrave, the three sons of Sir David Foulis of Ingleby – their father had spent seven years in prison because of Strafford – and their cousins Thomas and James Chaloner of Guisborough.  The Robinsons of Rokeby near Greta Bridge were ardent Parliamentarians.  John Dodsworth of Thornton Watlass, a kinsman of the Wandesfords, was raising a company of dragoons for Parliament.

Parliamentarian captains met at Bedale in October 1642.  They tried to organise the Trained Bands and they held a public meeting in Richmond to raise funds.  But the fund-raising wasn't very successful and the Trained Bands weren't at all keen.  Very many people wanted to keep out of this argument and in some places communities made neutrality pacts with each other.  Before long, force and threats were being used to get recruits.  Hugh Cholmley of Tunstall near Catterick first tricked his neighbours into mustering for his son's troop of Royalist horse and then forced them to stay in the troop, threatening he would have them hanged and their houses burned if they didn't.

Both King and Parliament needed control of the crossing places on the River Tees.  The Royalists were bringing in supplies of arms from the Continent into the River Tyne.  They were needed for York, which was threatened from the west and from the Parliamentarian ports of Hull and Scarborough to the east.

William Cavendish, Marquess of Newcastle, was the Royalist commander-in-chief in the North East.  His army of about 2,000 horse and dragoons, together with 4,000 foot soldiers and ten pieces of cannonry reached the narrow mediaeval bridge at Piercebridge on 1 December 1642.  On the other bank of the Tees was Captain John Hotham with about 120 horse, 400 foot and two small cannons.  

William Cavendish, Marquess of Newcastle

An advance guard of Royalist dragoons and foot under 36 year old Colonel Sir Thomas Howard forced its way onto the bridge and fierce fighting followed.  Finally unable to hold the bridge, Hotham withdrew his men towards Knaresborough with, he said, only three wounded.  The attackers will have suffered more in their onslaught on the bridge and their leader Sir Thomas Howard was killed.  He was buried the next day at High Coniscliffe while the Marquess of Newcastle and his forces marched on to York.   

Battles at Guisborough and Yarm: 1643

The loss of Piercebridge and the arrival in York of the supplies was an enormous blow to the Parliamentarian gentry of the North Riding.  Their goods and estates were confiscated and they couldn't help their friends in the West Riding because the men of the Trained Bands, who had turned up so reluctantly, simply melted away.  Sir Henry Foulis of Ingleby reported that a Cleveland foot regiment that had mustered 500 men at Yarm had rapidly dwindled to 80 at the approach of the enemy.  

Meanwhile, someone the Wandesfords had known in Dublin had returned home to his estates at Hemlington, just south of the Tees.  This was 32 year old Guilford Slingsby, who had been Strafford's loyal secretary to the end and who had since been secretary to the young Prince of Wales in Holland.  

Slingsby had no military experience himself, so he had brought back with him a few mercenaries to train the troops he intended to raise for the King.  They were needed to protect the arms convoys crossing the Tees and to threaten the Parliamentarians in Scarborough.

Sir Hugh Cholmley in Scarborough learned that his distant kinsman Slingsby had orders from the Marquess of Newcastle to occupy Whitby – which was his own territory, where he had his great house beside the ruins of the ancient Abbey.  Picking up two troops of dragoons in Malton, he took his men on the hard, wintry march across the moors towards Guisborough.  He had with him 80 horse, 170 dragoons and 130 foot – some 380 men in all.

On 16 January 1643, Cholmley's men came down from the moors.  Slingsby's forces – some 100 horse and 400 foot, mostly raw recruits – were so confident that they came about a mile out of Guisborough to meet the Parliamentary troops and they placed their musketeers under the hedges in positions of advantage.  They were able to hold their ground for a couple of hours but they were gradually forced back and defeated.  Slingsby, badly wounded by artillery fire, was taken prisoner.  The surgeons tried to save him, amputating both his legs above the knee, but he died three days later.  He was buried in York Minster.  

When Sir Hugh Cholmley, who had moderate religious views and was becoming ever more unhappy with his choice of allegiance, reported the battle to Parliament, he wrote

I am forced to draw my sword not only against my countrymen but many near friends and allies some of which I know both to be well affected in religion and lovers of their liberties.

He withdrew his men to Scarborough, and he ordered 400 foot, 150 horse and two cannons to Yarm to hold the narrow bridge over the Tees.  

A few weeks later, a very large convoy of 120 wagons and 140 packhorses, guarded by perhaps 2,000 men, was on its way south to the Marquess of Newcastle.  The Parliamentary forces at the bridge had no chance.  On 1 February 1643 the Royalists fell on them and in a very brief time most of them were taken.  The Battle of Yarm was soon over.  The prisoners were taken to Durham Castle, where they were badly treated.  The Royalist convoy left engineers at Yarm to stop future Parliamentarian attempts on the bridge – they broke down its northern arch and put a wooden drawbridge in its place.  

Within weeks, Sir Hugh Cholmley had changed sides.  The King now held Scarborough.  On 30 June, the Marquess of Newcastle won a victory at the Battle of Adwalton Moor, five miles from Bradford.  The North was now almost completely Royalist.

6. Chester: smallpox, siege and travelling home: 1643 

1. The Wandesfords of Kirklington

When Alice Wandesford was born, she was put in the care of a wet nurse – pregnancy and labour always left her mother far from well.  It was 13 February 1626 and at the time the family was living at the Hall at Kirklington on her father's estates in Richmondshire in the North Riding of Yorkshire.  

At her baptism by the Rector of Kirklington, it must have seemed to everybody that the future – if, with God's grace, she survived all the childhood perils of illness and accident – looked promising for her and for the country.

Young King Charles

Queen Elizabeth had died childless in 1603 when Alice's parents were small children, and the Stuart king James VI of Scotland had become the ruler of the three kingdoms of Scotland, England and Ireland – Wales had been conquered by England 350 years earlier.  With one king ruling both England and Scotland, there was at last not even a lingering fear of war between the two countries.  No more need, after many centuries, for either country to keep troops on the border, no more low level warring and sudden incursions, and the violent outlawry of the Border Reivers had finally come to an end.  

And the new King James VI & I was a Protestant king – the Wandesfords, and those of their opinion and allegiance, could feel that the Church of England was secure.  A little more than fifty years earlier, a longing among many for the return of Catholicism had brought about the Rising of the North in 1569.  Alice Wandesford's great-grandfather Christopher Wandesford had ridden aged twenty to reinforce Sir George Bowes' garrison holding Barnard Castle for the Queen against the besieging rebel forces.  In Kirklington itself, twenty-two men who held to the old faith had joined the Rising, including the village constable.  When the Queen exacted her terrible retribution against the ordinary people – far more terrible than anything her father King Henry or her sister Queen Mary had done – three of them were appointed by the Queen's commander to be hanged in the village.  And as a dreadful warning for the future, the bodies of the hanged men were to be left "till they fall to pieces at the hanging place".  But those days were over.  The Church of England now looked secure.

And now King James had been dead for less than a year and his son Charles was monarch of the three kingdoms – in fact, his coronation in England had only just taken place.  

The new King Charles was a shy, sheltered young man of twenty-five.  He would soon prove to be a man of fixed ideas and little experience.  And not a little slippery.  There were worries.  Many of his English subjects were already wishing heartily that he had broken with his father's example and come to respect the ancient, hard-won limits on his power over the people of England.  If only, people thought, he wasn't so completely dependent on the Duke of Buckingham, his late father's handsome favourite.  

Charles I by Gerrit van Honthorst, 1628

And if only, many of his English and Scottish subjects began to fear, the King's religious policies did not look so suspiciously hostile to their own dearly-held Puritan and Presbyterian beliefs.  This was a serious matter.  Religious toleration was not a virtue in those days – the future of the immortal soul was at stake, and how could a nation be secure and peaceful if people incurred God's wrath by heresy and irreligion?  What if, some people began to wonder, the King was actually planning to draw the country back to Catholicism, the religion of his own French Queen?  Catholicism was reviled and dreaded by all Protestants, however much they might live peaceably alongside their Catholic relations and neighbours.  They feared the reimposition of the Pope's authority and tended to greatly overestimate the number of Catholics.

But how peaceful and hopeful the future was for the three Kingdoms of the British Isles, especially compared to Europe, which was mired in conflict and suffering from the appalling toll of the terrible Thirty Years War.

Kirklington & Yorkshire

Alice's birthplace Kirklington lies in a sheltered basin in the pleasant, undulating country between Bedale and Ripon.  Fifteen miles to the north lay another of her father's properties, and Alice was to come to know it well.  This was Hipswell Hall in the parish of Catterick on the southern bank of the River Swale.  The North Riding stretched from the northern dales of Swaledale and Wensleydale, the high fells at the Westmorland border and the source of the Tees eastward to the important ports of Whitby and Scarborough.  It was a vast and thinly populated agricultural area, home to perhaps some 120,000 of England's five million people – and about 2,800 of them lived in Scarborough.  

Kirklington Hall by David Rogers CC BY_SA 2.0

At the centre of Yorkshire lay the Ainsty and City of York, the second capital of England, the centre of the King's government in the North, and quite as good – its inhabitants were sure – as London.  The East Riding, like the North Riding, was agricultural.  It bordered on the independent borough of Hull, Yorkshire's most important port.  The West Riding – where most of Yorkshire's population could be found – was increasingly industrial.  Its inhabitants made their livelihoods through the woollen industry, mining and metalworking, many of them living in large villages and thriving cloth towns like Leeds.  The West Riding's independent and self-sufficient workers were strongly Nonconformist and Calvinist – not for them a respect of church hierarchy and ritual observance.  

Mr & Mrs Wandesford of Kirklington Hall

Alice's father, Mr Christopher Wandesford, had inherited his estates fourteen years before she was born, when he was only twenty.  Auburn-haired and ruddy-cheeked, he was a good, serious and devout young man.  He had just decided to become a clergyman when his father died, leaving him with his younger siblings to provide for out of an inheritance burdened with debts – the late Sir George had been both careless and extravagant.  To be fair to Sir George, it was not only his extravagance that had left his son with impoverished and reduced estates.  Misfortune played a part.  For a hundred years, each heir had been under age and that meant that most of the rents had been taken by the monarch, who also had the right to marry the heir off as they pleased.  Christopher was the fifth under-age heir in succession and it cost his grandfather Ralph Hansby £900 to buy off King James so that Christopher could choose his own bride.

Christopher Wandesford (1592-1640)

After his father's death, Christopher left his studies at Cambridge for Kirklington, where he set about restoring the family fortunes, diligently studying law and providing for his siblings.  Within two years he was able to look about for a wife and his choice fell on Alice Osborne, daughter of one of the wealthiest men in London.  Carefully brought up by her mother in all that a good education and the Court could provide, she was proficient in writing, singing, dancing, and playing the harpsichord and the lute.  And she was as serious and devout as Christopher himself.  They married in 1614 and settled at Kirklington Hall.  

Mr Wandesford took in hand some of his land and, by farming it himself, provided for his own household while giving a weekly allowance of corn to the poor of the townships and villages on his estates.  He provided his cottagers with wool so that they might add to their income by weaving and Mrs Wandesford encouraged spinning for the linen industry by growing hemp and flax.  The Hall had been rebuilt by Mr Wandesford's grandfather Sir Christopher in about 1571.  Mr and Mrs Wandesford's additions were practical:  new stables, a large walled orchard and a new dairy, its water supplied by lead pipes running from a cistern near St Michael's Well, close by the mill race.

Their daughter Catherine was born the year after they married, and Christopher and Joyce soon followed.  And perhaps the Wandesfords might have remained always on their Yorkshire estates, improving their land and developing new industries, if it had not been for a strong and lasting friendship that was to determine the direction of Mr Wandesford's life.

Next: 2. Mr Wandesford enters politics: 1620-1630 

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.