Berkshire – Kintbury and Beyond

West Woodhay: A downland village in a changing agricultural landscape

This post is in two parts. In the first part, I consider the village of West Woodhay from a changing historical perspective. For the second part, we are delighted to have a contribution from Harry Henderson of West Woodhay Farms in which he describes the recent changes in agricultural practices which have enabled vitally important regeneration of the land.

On the road to nowhere in particular, the hamlet of West Woodhay is situated in the extreme south of West Berkshire just below the North Hampshire downs, a little over two miles south of Kintbury as the crow flies.

The Road to West Woodhay: Des Blenkinsop via Creative Commons

Although a motte is all that remains now of a twelfth century hunting lodge, today the village is probably best known for the elegant grade one listed West Woodhay House and also the grade two listed St Laurence’s church with windows by Morris & Co.

Early censuses show that most of the population were engaged in agriculture during the nineteenth century; early maps of the village suggest there has been little if any development, so, on the whole it might be presumed that very little of any great note has ever happened here. However, the effects of very significant changes in agricultural practices can be traced in the history of this village and the surrounding area.

The eighteenth century saw many developments in agriculture, enabling increased food production necessary to feed the growing population. Whilst innovations in agricultural machinery, such as the horse drawn seed drill developed by Jethro Tull of Prosperous Farm, near Hungerford, made the cultivation of larger fields much easier, this had a downside for thousands of rural labourers.

Since medieval times, many rural families had cultivated strips or patches of land, often dotted around their parishes, relying upon what they could grow to feed their families. However such a system was useless for food production on a large scale. The 1773 Inclosure Act enabled the Lords of the Manor or other land owners to enclose the diverse patches and strips of land, creating large fields each devoted to one particular crop and of the size that could be cultivated using new machinery. Whilst this might have been good news for the markets, it was devastating for many who lost their ability to grow their own food.

The effects of the 1773 Act were not felt straight away although it was eventually to change the face of the English countryside.

The Hampshire Chronicle of July 1816 reported that an Act of Parliament had been passed for the inclosure (sic) of Woodhay Common. However, “the labouring poor in that neighbourhood have lately shewn strong symptoms of their disapprobation and at length proceeded so far as to collect in considerable numbers with the avowed intention of preventing the farmers ( to whom it had been allotted ) from breaking it up.”

Fearful of trouble, the authorities called out military back-up which arrived in the form of the “Donnington and Newbury Troop under the command of Capt. Bacon” and also “Oxford blues ( who had been sent from Maidenhead )”

It is hard to believe that anyone would have felt it necessary to employ the military to prevent any sort of a riot in such a quiet and peaceful corner of the county. It is hard to imagine troops, not just from nearby Newbury but also from Maidenhead, well over a day’s ride away, descending on the village. Insurrection is not something you would associate with West Woodhay.

However, due to the “spirited exertions of constables” the military were not required although several of those involved in the protest were bound over to appear at the Quarter Sessions.

Enclosures were not the only things to make life increasingly difficult for the rural poor. Harsh game laws meant the penalty for catching rabbits for the pot could be transportation and poor harvests in the 1820s resulted in increased prices, particularly for bread.

William Cobbett was a writer and campaigner born in 1763 to a Hampshire farming family. Critical of the way new laws impacted upon the rural population, in 1821 Cobbett set out on a series of “Rural Rides” to observe for himself the situation throughout the midlands and south of England. Amongst other things, Cobbett was critical of the amount of money the country was spending on defence rather than on improved conditions for the rural poor. One of those of whom he was particularly critical was Berkshire M.P. and Kintbury resident, Charles Dundas. A prominent and influential figure, Dundas would have been well known across local towns and villages.

Although it is not always easy to work out Cobbett’s exact route through the countryside, it is clear from reading his work that he travelled across North Wiltshire and into Berkshire, stopping at Newbury on October 17th.

Whilst at a public dinner in Newbury, Cobbett took the opportunity to call out Dundas’s false accusation that he, Cobbett, was complicit in a plot to assassinate the Prime Minister and members of the cabinet. Known as the Cato Street conspiracy, those involved were eventually either executed or transported. For Dundas to accuse Cobbett of complicity was a particularly serious slur and something which reflects how polarised political views were at this time.

Later, Cobbett observed that “a good part” of the wheat offered for sale at Newbury market was wholly unfit for bread flour. Considering the importance of bread in the diet of poorer people, this must have led to severe consequences locally.

Not everything Cobbett observed as he rode through the downland was negative, however. At one point as he rode across the downs, he observed, “immense flocks of sheep which were now ( at ten o’clock ) just going from their several folds, to the downs for the day..”

The “immense flocks” aside, there was, as Cobbett noted, little to impress in the daily lives of the agricultural workers. Enclosures, the rising cost of bread and harsh laws which mitigated particularly against rural people, and changes in agricultural practices such as the introduction of mechanisation made life for the agricultural worker extremely difficult. The bad harvest of 1830 was the tipping point, leading to what became known as the “swing riots” which broke out in December of that year.

Although most of the protests in this part of West Berkshire were centred on and around Kintbury, West Woodhay did not escape the disorder. Here, Cornelius Bennett and Henry Honey were charged with robbery although both were subsequently acquitted. However, shock waves must have rippled across this part of Berkshire when it was reported that others of the rioters had been charged at Reading Assizes with several transported to Australia and one executed for his involvement.

In the following years, however, the agricultural industry in England generally was thriving. But this was not to last and by the 1870s it was in depression. By 1893 an anonymous contributor wrote to the Newbury Weekly News:

“There are thousands of acres not tenanted at all, and scores of landlords only too anxious to let on almost any terms.”

He continues:

“The real cause of agricultural depression is very easy to find, but very difficult to remedy. It is because the enormous development of steam navigation has brought the millions and millions of foreign acres into practical proximity to our shores and accompanied by a full market has made England a central emporium of a huge percentage of the surplus produce of the world.”

Throughout England, the numbers of people engaged in agriculture, particularly as labourers, declined as many sought better paid factory work in towns and cities. In West Woodhay, the 1851 census records William Taylor of West Woodhay farm as employing 15 labourers. By 1861 the farm has been taken by an in-comer from Buckinghamshire, Job Wooster, who employs 9 labourers. By the 1881 census, there are just 16 agricultural labourers in the whole of the village.

Throughout the early years of the 20^th century, many young people from rural communities emigrated to the colonies such as Canada or Australia to try their hand at agricultural work far from home. Whilst I have not been able to discover how many pioneering young men or woman left the villages of West Berkshire in this way, it has to be likely that some, at least, would have done so.

The twentieth century witnessed two world wars during which thousands of agricultural workers from all over the country enlisted in the armed forces. To make up the short fall in manpower, thousands of young women joined the Women’s Land Army and were posted to rural areas throughout the UK. In July of 1918 the Reading Standard featured on its front page photographs of some of these women at work on Berkshire farms under the bold sub-headings:

THEY MILK THE COWS

AND FEED THE PIGS

AND TRUSS THE LOADS OF HAY

most probably to the cynical and wry amusement of those rural woman who had been undertaking farm work for decades.

The 1939 Register lists 24 people engaged in agriculture in West Woodhay although it is difficult to draw an exact comparison with numbers of agricultural workers at the time of the nineteenth century censuses in part due to changing definitions of occupation. However it is true to say that the village had remained a predominantly agricultural community.

It is now over 200 years since West Woodhay Common was enclosed and 195 years since the Swing Riots. Although the associated violence is now very much in the past, the farm lands of West Woodhay still reflect the changing agricultural practices and the need for farming to respond to changing times.

For the second part of this post we are grateful to Harry Henderson whose family owns and runs West Woodhay Farms, an estate on the Berkshire/Hampshire border.

West Woodhay church: Matthew Prior via Creative Commons

Farming for the Future: Soil, Sustainability, and Success at West Woodhay

Harry Henderson

The estate spans 830 hectares of challenging land with fragile soils. Since 2008, a regenerative agricultural policy has been in place, with a focus on prioritizing soil health. The estate now follows a crop rotation system that includes herbal grass leys, flower meadows, wild bird feed areas, and very low-input cereals.

Agricultural chemicals and fertilizers have been replaced with more sustainable cultural methods. As a result, there has been a significant increase in soil biology, leading to enhanced organic matter levels and improved carbon capture.

The shift in farming practices—driven by soil health—has led to remarkable nature recovery. The planting of herbal leys and wildflower plots has created a thriving environment for insect life. Since adopting a no-insecticide policy in 2014, West Woodhay has seen a resurgence of beneficial insects such as spiders, beetles, and parasitic wasps. This has enabled the successful establishment of flea beetle-sensitive crops like stubble turnips.

The rise in insect populations has also benefited birdlife, which is supported further through the planting of wild bird plots for the leaner months. All this recovery work has been monitored and independently audited over many years, and the data clearly shows a strong link between soil health and biodiversity.

In-depth soil analyses have shown that, given time and the absence of soil disturbance, soil indices can begin to rebalance naturally, making primary nutrients more available to crops. This reinforces the estate’s approach of minimal intervention and maximum biological support.

A large sheep flock has been used to manage the land and maintain productivity. The breed of choice is the Welsh Cheviot, native to the Brecon Beacons. With West Woodhay’s highest point reaching 900 feet, this hardy breed is ideally suited to the challenging upland climate. Their thick, dense fleece protects them from January’s easterly winds and rain.

Lambing begins in late March, with all ewes lambing outdoors in a natural environment, giving mothers plenty of space and time to bond with their lambs. During the summer months, the flock grazes on the herbal leys, enriching the soil’s biodiversity. After weaning in early autumn, they are moved to higher ground to help manage the fragile downland ecosystem.

The estate’s latest and most exciting initiative is the production of cereal crops for human consumption, grown with little or no artificial fertilizers or pesticides. These crops are established using zero-tillage methods. By using legumes to naturally supply nutrients for fast-growing spring cereals, West Woodhay has successfully tapped into new opportunities through Wildfarmed contracts.

Importantly, the farming enterprise has remained consistently profitable. Without profit, nature recovery would be difficult to sustain. Savings on fertilizers, agrochemicals, fuel, finance, and labour have helped support this transition. The increase in soil organic matter has broadened the estate’s cropping options, helping to future-proof the farm for the next generation.

Defending the border? The view from Walbury Hill

At present I am writing this as I look out at my garden on a particularly hot day. I am in Berkshire, or, if you prefer, Royal Berkshire. Less than three miles from my garden fence is Hampshire and I can look out of my bedroom window at Wiltshire. If I were to stand on my roof, I would see, three miles to the south, Walbury Hill, the highest point on chalk in England.

This wider area is often described as Central Southen England, although I like to think that, in our corner of West Berkshire, we look much more towards the west than towards Reading and the south east.

Berksshire and surrounding counties before 1974

My local authority – the one responsible for emptying our bins, amongst other things – is West Berkshire, based in Newbury. Before 1998, when West Berkshire became a unitary authority, our local authority was Berkshire, based in Reading. The Berkshire, that is, which was considerably smaller than it had been before April 1974, when the Vale of the White Horse in the north of the old shire county was transferred to Oxfordshire, and Berkshire gained Slough, previously in Buckinghamshire.

West Berkshire from 1974
Image:Nilfanion under Commons Licence, accessed from Wikimedia

Some people, with both a sense of history and also an ironic sense of humour, like to call the Vale, “occupied North Berkshire” – a nod to the feeling that Berkshire’s border with Oxfordshire should be along the Thames as it had been for hundreds of years.

The Upper Thames: The Berkshire/Oxfordshire border? Or perhaps the frontier between Wessex & Mercia?

However, very soon our local authority will be changing yet again. It may, although at the time of writing, this has not yet been confirmed, be known as Ridgeway, named for the prehistoric track that runs east to west across the Berkshire Downs. The Berkshire Downs, that is to say, the downs currently partly in Oxfordshire after Vale of White Horse – formerly in north Berkshire – was transferred to Oxfordshire following the local government reorganisation in 1974.

So, when – and if – we become “Ridgeway”, our devolved local authority will once more include the Vale, although people living there – for example in Uffington – will still be in Oxfordshire as far as their postal address is concerned. Furthermore, the Thames will once more become the border between our local authority and whatever the devolved authorites to the north are finally called.

Confusing? Definitely. But this is definitely not new.

http://Walbury Hill within the Iron Age landscape

To consider the long view – the very long view – we need to travel back in time over two thousand five hundred years to the Iron Age. The hill fort on Walbury Hill – which I mentioned in my opening paragraph -is home to people known to the Romans as the Atrebates. We will never know how they identified themselves because the Atrebates did not have a written culture but valued committing ideas and stories to memory instead.

If a man or woman from that hill fort were to stand on the highest point of Walbury Hill and look across the Kennet Valley, all the territory below would, perhaps reassuringly, belong to their tribe. In the far distance to the north west, was the territory of the Dobunni, and to the distant south, the Belgae. Of course there was no signage back then; no, “You are entering the territory of the Atrebates” although the locals may well have known that a particular river or ditch marked the boundary between Us and Them. Indeed, the very existance of a hill fort on a prominent ridge would have of itself made a statement visible for miles around.

Emil Reich
Map by Emil Reich. Under Commons Licence accessed from Wikimedia

Our area at the time of the Romans. Spinae may be modern day Speen and Cunetio is near modern day Marlborough

The arrival of the Romans in Britain around 55 BC brought some obvious changes. For the people of the Atrebates, their tribal centre at Calleva, ( modern day Silchester ) became an important Roman town. In the valley below Walbury Hill, the construction of the road to Aqua Sulis ( the Roman name for Bath ) would have seen an increase in traffic. Villas appeared in the landscape, as at Kintbury. Trade with the newcomers meant an increased variety of foods and other goods.

We do not know for sure if anyone was still living in the hill fort on Walbury Hill when the Romans arrived. We do not know, for sure, if any Iron Age man or woman, standing on the highest point on chalk in southern Britain, would have felt threatened by the increasing presence of the Romans in the valley below. We do know that it has to be likely that many Iron Age Celts continued to live pretty much as they had done before Caesar landed in Kent and continued to do so long after.

*Roman province of Britannia*. (Map of the Historical Atlas of Gustav Droysen, 1886) Under Commons Licence accessed from Wikimedia

It may well be that, being impressed by the site of Roman soldiers marching through the valley below, young Iron Age Britons were persuaded to join up. As Roman soldiers and with the promise of Roman citizenship after a long period in military service, they would have identified as Roman. Perhaps they would have served in the north of the country or even abroad and maybe they began to view the world below and beyond Walbury Hill as part of something greater – as part of the Roman Empire. We will never know for sure, but, human nature being as it is, this has to be a possibility.

Fast forward some four or five hundred years. On a clear day it might have been possible to spot some activity in the valley below Walbury just to the west of what is now Inkpen.

Director General of the Ordnance Survey, UK. Under Commons Licence accessed from Wikimedia

To the left – or west – of the map above, “Wodnes Dic” is the earth work we know today as the Wansdyke. The crossed swords symbols at Ellandun, Beranburgh and Bedwyn indicate that this area sawconflictds during this period, known as the “Dark Ages”.

Part of OS map showing Inkpen and the eastern end of the Wansdyke

If you look carefully at modern editions of the OS map for this area, and you will see a track running north to south and just to the east of Lower Spray Farm, Inkpen, at grid reference SU 35170 63746. This is Old Dyke Lane, marked on the map as an earthwork and as a scheduled ancient monument.

Despite the name “dyke”, Old Dyke Lane has nothing to do with drainage, neither is it a scheduled ancient monument just because it is a lane. On some maps, Old Dyke Lane also has the word, “Wansdyke” printed in Old English script, which gives a clue to its historic importance.

The Inkpen section of the Wansdyke is in fact the very eastern end of “Woden’s Dic” – defensive ditch and bank running all the way from Portishead near Bristol, right across Wiltshire and concluding just over the border in what is now Berkshire. In places the bank is at least 4 meters high with the ditch being 2.5 meters deep although when first constructed it is likely to have been both higher and deeper. As the ditch is on the north side of the bank, it is likely that the Wansdyke was built by those living to the south of it for defence against those living to the north.

When first constructed, the bank may have had wooded revetments and a walkway; certainly the chalk of the freshly constructed bank would have been bright white, making a definite statement in the landscape and very likely visible from the hills above.

Constructing such a defensive work as this, at a time when there were only primitive excavation tools available, must have been a colossal feat, so who would have been responsible and whom were they defending themselves against?

There had been suggestions that the Wansdyke was constructed by the Romans but now this idea has been challenged. However, although Roman authority departed Britain around 410 C.E., that did not mean that every last Roman marched to Dover, waved goodbye and got on a boat heading to Italy. By the early fifth century, many who had originally arrived with the Roman army had formed relationships with the indigenous Britons whose culture and way of life had endured despite the occupation. So, by the fifth century, many people could be described as “Romano-British”.

There are, of course, very few written documents from this period of British history and what there are were written by clerics and the religious. Gildas was a monk writing in the 6^th century CE and a very early chronicler of British history – although not necessarily a very accurate one.

Gildas believed the Wansdyke was constructed by one Ambrosius Aurelianus, a fifth century Romano-British military leader who fought against the Anglo Saxons as they advancing towards the south west from the north.

The Welsh cleric, Geoffrey of Monmouth was an eleventh century historian with a particular interest in the Arthurian legend. He elaborated on the story of Ambrosius Aurelianus, describing him as the uncle of King Arthur, no less.

King Arthur Asks the Lady of the Lake for the Sword Excalibur, illustration by Walter Crane. Under Commons Licence, Accessed from Wikimedia

It is, of course, completely fanciful to think of the Wansdyke as having any connection – even remotely – with King Arthur. However, it may well have been constructed in the Dark Ages – the time in which the Arthurian legends are set – by Romano- British people as defence against aggression coming from the north.

Alternatively, some archaeologists believe that the Wansdyke could have been constructed in the 8^th century by West Saxons as a defence against the Mercians, attacking from the area of the River Severn and Avon Valley.

We can – almost – be certain that the section of the Wansdyke in this area would have been constructed, at least in part, by local people who would have felt the need to defend themselves. Whether those people would have indentified as Romano-British or West Saxon, we shall popbably never know but we can deduce that they felt the need to construct a defensive border to define and defend their territory.

By the 6^th century CE, the Anglo-Saxons – incomers from the European mainland – were the dominant authority in what is now England. In our part of the country, that is to say the south and south west, it was the West Saxons who held sway, and our area came to be known as Wessex. For most of this period, the River Thames was the border between Wessex and the Saxon kingdom of Mercia which stretched up into the Midlands.

Cross-border relationships were tense: leaders on each side wanted hegemony over the other Saxon kingdom, and there were frequent battles. A West Saxon person, standing on Walbury Hill and looking northwards, could have regarded the distant hills as enemy territory, to be defended. However a decisive engagement is believed to have come in 825 when Ecgberht of Wessex defeated Beornwulf of Mercia at the Battle of Ellendun, near what is now Wroughton in modern day Wiltshire.

Although relations between those identifying as West Saxons and the Mercians north of the Thames might have become more peaceful, there was to be another potential threat.

Larson, Laurence Marcellus, 1868-1938 Under Commons Licence, accessed from Wikimedia

The Vikings had begun to invade and attack towns and villages on the north east coast of what is now England in the late 8^th century. The term, “Viking” means pirate or raider and is often used to describe any raiders from what is now regarded as Scandinavia. The raiders from Scandinavia who attacked Wessex in 871 are more accurately referred to as Danes and these are the invaders defeated by (almost) local man, King Alfred at the Battle of Ashdown in 871.

“King Alfred” Photo: Bill Nichols Under Common Licence accessed from Wikimedia

Alfred had been born in Wantage – or Wandesiege as he would have known it – sixteen miles to the north of Kintbury across the downs, in 849. As well as effectively seeing off the Danish threat, King Alfred did much to improve standards of literacy and education in his kingdom and also revised the legal system. He remains the only British monarch to be known as, “the Great.”

By the beginning of the tenth century, a man or woman standing on Walbury Hill would have been looking at Wessex to the north, to the south, to the east and to the west. Now the Kingdom of Wessex was one of the most powerful in what was being called Enga land.

Anglo Saxon Wessex: Informatiion based on Hill, An Atlas of Anglo-Saxon England Under Common Licence accessed from Wikimedia

The Saxons were responsible for dividing up the country into administrative areas we know today as counties. Berkshire exists from sometime in the 9th century.

Berkshire in the 17th century. National Library of Scotland

By the Norman conquest, I think it is safe to say Berkshire was a county of size and shape we could identify at least as looking something like the pre 1974 county. However, the final details were not set in stone.

Detail from map of Berkshire, 1830, by Sidney Hall. Note Shalbourn & Oxenwood shown as being in Berkshire (National Library of Scotland)

The 1894 Local Government Act resulted in some smaller towns and villages moving from one authority to another. (See my earlier post, “Where in the world is Combe?”)

Until 1894, the border between Berkshire and Hampshire ran across Walbury Hill. Combe Gibbet was just inside Hampshire as was the village of Combe. The intention of the Local Government act was to enable the public – by which was meant certain men over 21 – to vote for local and district councillors. Districts were defined by a consideration of certain factors which included not only population but proximity to magistrates courts, banks and poor law unions ( or workhouses.) And so it was decided that for Combe, Hungerford in Berkshire was nearer and more convenient than Kingsclere in Hampshire. The boundary was redrawn therefore, so that Combe and Walbury Hill, along with Combe Gibbet, should be in Berkshire.

But, as far as I am aware, none of these changes were accompanied by violence. In 1894 the good burghers of Charnham Street, Hungerford did not have to defend themselves against Berkshire taking it by force from Wiltshire. And no one in Combe sharpened their pike staffs and marched up Walbury Hill to repel similar forces from Inkpen and Kintbury.

Although the redrawn border between Hampshire and Berkshire was not done for defensive purposes, certain measures taken in 1940 definitely were.

Part of OS map, 1945 showing defences of Britain

After the defeat at Dunkirk in 1940, Britain faced the severe threat of invasion. Plans were made to delay the German forces should they actually invade, to which end a series of defensive constructions were eventually built which included concrete “pill boxes” at locations along the Kennet & Avon – known as “Stop Line Blue” – and also the Thames. They would be manned by Local Defence Volunteers – men unable for whatever reason to join the regular forces but who could contribute to defence.

Thankfully, there was never an invasion during World War II and so the pill boxes were never used to defend a border. But it is a chilling thought that, if an invasion had been succesful, the Kennet & Avon canal, or even the Thames, could have become the border between a free England and the occupied sector.

Interestingly, the name Wessex has endured even though Alfred’s Kingdom has long gone. It is as if many of us still take a kind of atavistic pride in living in what was once a very powerful part of England – and perhaps also a very beautiful one. I believe the novelist Thomas Hardy was in part responsible for the resurgence of Wessex as an idea, if not strictly a geographic location, when he used it as locations in his novels.

Speaking for myself, I quite like the name “Ridgeway” and I hope that is what our authority will be called. Alternatively, I rather like “North Wessex” as Thomas Hardy called this area in his novels. But whether we are Wessex or Ridgeway, West Berkshire or Royal Berkshire, Walbury Hill – our highest point in chalk in England – will still be there, and the White Horse will still be galloping over the downs above the vale

White Horse from the air: Dan Huby Under Commons Licence .accessed from Wikimedia

(C). Theresa A. Lock 2025

Sources:

Battle of Ellendun Project Plan

http://www.wansdyke21.org.uk/faqs.htm https://howardwilliamsblog.wordpress.com/2022/10/24/exploring-east-wansdyke

Click to access SMR_Wiltshire_Wansdyke.pdf

Charles Wright & the White Horse of Inkpen

There are many hill figures cut into the chalk downland of southern Britain. The oldest and probably the most famous is the Uffington White Horse in Oxfordshire (formerly in Berkshire before 1974) cut into the scarp slope of the North Wessex Downs overlooking the Upper Thames Valley, which is over 3,000 years old.

By contrast, the Fovant Badges were originally cut in the years after the First World War. These depictions of military badges were cut to honour the hundreds of soldiers who had been training near the village of Fovant in south west Wiltshire.

Fovant badges Marchibald.fly via Creative Commons

Dorset boasts two hill figures. The horse and rider on Osmington Down near Weymouth was created in 1808 in honour of George III, a frequent visitor to the town. However, no one really knows why the Cerne Abbas giant – a figure of more likely humorous or satirical intent – was created above the village in Early Medieval times.

Humerous or satirical intent?
Pete Harlow via Creative Commons

However, the majority of white horses can be found across Wiltshire. The Westbury white horse is believed to have been made sometime in the late seventeenth century which would make it the oldest figure in the county. Next comes the white horse above Cherhill, which is believed to date from 1780. Pewsey’s horse was cut in 1785 and then in 1808, pupils at a boys’ school in Marlborough constructed the town’s white horse.

The Cherhill white horse
Brian Robert Marshall via Creative Commons

At Broad Hinton, it is believed that the parish clerk, Henry Eatwell, may have been responsible for the Hackpen Hill white horse, which was constructed in 1838 to commemorate Queen Victoria’s coronation.

Broad Hinton white horse
Brian Robert Marshall via Creative Commons

The Devizes white horse first appeared in 1845. Then, rather later than the rest, Broad Town in 1885.

But how many people know that, sometime in the early 1870s, Inkpen was added to this list?

The Ordnance Survey map, Berkshire, Sheet XLI, surveyed in 1873 and published in 1877, does indeed show another white horse, situated on the north facing slope of Inkpen Hill and just over the county boundary in Wiltshire.

So, who was responsible for Inkpen’s white horse and what happened that we can no longer see it?

The Inkpen ( or Ham ) white horse was constructed on land owned as part of the Ham Spray estate, just to the east of the small village of Ham in Wiltshire and to the west of Inkpen, Berkshire. In 1869 it was bought by the then thirty year old Charles Wright. In the 1871 census, Wright is described as a farmer of 370 acres employing 8 men and 4 boys, so is clearly quite successful.

Wright had been born in 1839 in the Leicestershire village of Market Bosworth. In 1841 he is living with his grandfather, a clergyman and in 1851 he is a boarder at a grammar school in Derby. By the age of 22 he is living with his father and his older brother Thomas who is in the military. Charles himself is described as “gent”: a very precise distinction at this socially divided time.

Ten years later, Thomas Wright has a seat of his own: Tidmington House in Worcestershire, where he lives with his wife and eight staff. Younger brother Charles has relocated to the south west.

When Charles Wright bought Ham Spray House, it was a modern building still only around thirty years old. Perhaps Charles wanted to establish his own seat, distinct and away from the family in Leicestershire.

Ham Spray House
Charles Richard Sanders via Creative Commons

Some nineteenth century landowners become high profile figures within their towns or villages and their names feature frequently in the local press. This cannot be said of Charles Wright in the time he lived at Ham Spray House. The only reference I can find to him in local papers, aside from details of the sale of his property, was when he contributed generously, along with other local gentry, to a fund for the sick.

Finding himself in a county famed for its white horses cut into the chalk downland, Wright may have wanted the distinction of adding to that number. Perhaps he wanted to impress his neighbours, or just to add to the view from his house. So, sometime in the early 1870s he had his workers cut the outline of a horse into the downs. The new white horse must have been distinctive enough for the Ordnance Survey surveyors to notice it when working in the area in 1873 and include it on the latest edition of the O.S. map, published four years later..

However, the 1877 O.S. map is the only one to include the new, Inkpen white horse. Sadly, it did not endure partly because it had been constructed by stripping away the turf with out digging and packing out trenches with compacted chalk. Further, subsequent landowners did not bother to clear away the encroaching grass.

Charles Wright died on 12^th December 1876 at Ham Spray House. He was only 37. The estate, his house and all its contents were sold. His time at Ham Spray House, like that of his newly cut white horse on the downs above Inkpen, had been brief.

https://www.wiltshirewhitehorses.org.uk/index.html

Ancestry

British newspaper Archive

Mr & Mrs Hallett: The iconic Georgian couple with a Kintbury connection

When we are writing about local people, particularly those who lived over a hundred years ago, it is almost impossible to know exactly what they looked like or to find a photo or painting of them. This is not the case with the man responsible for the building of Denford House, William Hallett. Shortly before his marriage in 1785, Hallett and his bride-to-be, Elizabeth Stephens, were painted by the renowned and fashionable portrait painter, Thomas Gainsborough.

So who was William Hallett?

William Hallett III was born in Soho Square, a fashionable area of Westminster, Middlesex, in 1764. His father, William II died when he was three years old so the younger William was brought up by his grandfather, William Hallett I, a successful and highly fashionable cabinet maker. When this William died in 1782, William III inherited the house and estate at Canons, Middlesex, which his grandfather had had built on land he had purchased from the Duke of Chandos. The Halletts clearly moved in the first circle of Georgian society.

At this time, William III was still legally a minor, being under the age of 21. Like many young men of his class and back ground at that time, William next chose to embark on the “Grand Tour”- taking a year or more to travel through France and Italy to learn more about classical art and architecture. Also, presumably, having a good time along the way.

On his return to England, William became betrothed to Elizabeth Stephens, the daughter of a surgeon. Before their marriage in 1785, the couple chose to have their portrait painted by the very fashionable portrait painter Thomas Gainsborough who had arrived on the London scene some ten years earlier.

Thomas Gainsborough had previously lived and worked in Bath, where, despite his preference for painting landscapes, he had gained a reputation for his portraits of the elegant upper classes. In his works, in what was known as the “nouvelle style”, Gainsborough’s subjects are always elegantly dressed in a neo-classical style characterised to the modern eye by bewigged gentlemen and flowing silk dresses worn by the ladies. Dogs and occasionally horses feature, as well. Perhaps Gainsborough’s best known painting is his double portrait of “Mr & Mrs Andrews”, a work which provided a show case for the wealthy young couple – the beautiful people of their age.

A portrait by Gainsborough made a statement of one’s status and wealth. The painting of the Halletts – known as “Mr & Mrs Hallett: The morning walk” cost £126 and includes their dog; Gainsborough charged extra if a horse was to feature in the painting, apparently.

Although £126 might have seemed an absolute fortune to the majority of England’s population in 1785, it was nothing to the Halletts – on her marriage to William, Elizabeth Stephens had a personal fortune of £20,000. It could have been that this was particularly fortuitous for her new husband – William was fond of expensive and risky sports such as racing, betting and gambling which, it was believed, ultimately contributed to his downfall.

In 1788, William Hallett bought the manor of Little Wittenham, a village in what was then Old Berkshire, ten miles to the south of Oxford. Two years later, however, after having had much of the original Little Wittenham manor house pulled down and rebuilt, the Halletts moved on. Their next seat was on the edge of Faringdon, a market town twenty miles to the west in what was then north west Berkshire. At the confluence of several coaching roads, Faringdon offered relatively easy access to both London and Bath, something that must have been a consideration for a society couple.

Built around 1780 and so a modern residence at the time, Faringdon House is in the Palladian style and set on a ridge above the Vale of the White Horse with spectacular views to the north over the upper Thames Valley and into the Cotswolds beyond. The Vale of the White Horse is also famed as fox hunting country which must have appealed to Hallett with his love of the sport.

The Halletts may have felt that their new home confirmed their position within the affluent upper-classes of Georgian England as they continued to live in Faringdon for the next twenty years and four of their children were born there.

There is evidence to suggest, however, that William continued to build what today might be called his property portfolio; he may even have owned, at one time, Avebury Manor, now the property of the National Trust in Wiltshire, as well as other properties across the south.

By 1810, William Hallett had bought Townhill, a manor house in South Stoneham, Hampshire. The same year he also bought Denford Park, just two miles from Kintbury on the Bath Road. Just as he had done at Wittenham, it seems that Hallett had the existing house demolished – or demolished in part – and rebuilt, using some of the architectural features he had taken from his property in South Stoneham which he had also partly demolished and rebuilt. Work on the house at Denford Park was completed in 1832 and the principal architect was Sir Jeffry Wyattville.

Neither Denford Park nor the property at South Stoneham proved to be sound investments for Hallett who lost money on both as well as quarrelling, as a result, with his son, William IV. The Halletts eventually moved to a another newly built property , Candys, at South Stoneham.

Hallett did not stay long at the newly built Denford House, indeed, rebuilding and moving on seems to have been the pattern of his life with the exception of Faringdon House. However, Denford Park remains an imposing and important property within the Kintbury and Hungerford area. It was sold for £32,026 12s in 1822 when it was bought by George Henry Cherry, a local magistrate and sometime High Sheriff of Berkshire. It remained in the Cherry family until 1913.

More recently, between 1967 and 2002, Denford Park was home to the world famous Norland Nursery Training College. It is now once more in private ownership.

However, Denford Park is not the Halletts only connection with the Kintbury area. William & Elizabeth’s daughter, Emily Hallett had been born in Faringdon in 1879. It is not known if she ever lived at Denford Park herself but it has to be likely as, on 27^th March 1819, she married Kintbury’s Fulwar William Fowle at St Mary’s church, Kintbury.

Fulwar William Fowle followed his father, grandfather and great grandfather into the church; following graduation from Merton College, Oxford, he was ordained deacon in 1814 and priest in 1816. He became rector of Allington, near Salisbury, in Wiltshire in 1816 and perpetual curate of Amesbury, Wiltshire in 1817.

For Emily Hallett, growing up in the modern elegance of a Faringdon House or Denford Park, living in the Allington Rectory must have been quite different. Although the Rev Fuwar William was quite well connected, particularly to the Lords Craven, and his family members would have moved within the upper circles of society, life in the rural rectory might have been grand by comparison to that of the labouring villagers but nothing like living in a Palladian mansion.

Emily and Fulwar lived all their married life at Allington. They had eleven children together, of which nine survived although Emily died soon after the birth of the last one in 1833. Her mother, Elizabeth Hallett, died the same year.

William Hallett died in 1842. By this time he had lost much of his money and so there was little that could be passed on to his descendants. Interestingly, son-in-law Fulwar William was bequeathed Hallett’s religious books – strange, perhaps, as in his life Hallett himself seemed to have more interest in sport and gambling than in things spiritual

The Gainsborough portrait, for which William Hallett paid £126, was bought by the National Gallery in 1954. It cost the gallery £30, 000 and is still on display in London.

Image: Denford House, Kintbury 1, Nick Kingsley

Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/deed.en

Available from: https://www.flickr.com/photos/94370562@N05/46825610704/in/photolist-q4XD7m-dSpUu-dSpTx-dSpPN-b5z8yt-81er1q-c9XnUG-3qsPUG-3qok1g-2ekPuFA-HjHfWt-H6VKWY-Vn2mpW-VvJSkh-UArF5r-JistLM-2oRkxY5-HUctM1-Hm3qib-eNypAQ-JptrGZ-JnfCLM-J79pkj-HYNHdb-8JiPpu

Sources:

https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/catalogues/egerton-2000/mr-and -mrs-hallett-the-morning-walk

https://gainsborough.org/about/about-thomas-gainsborough

https:/www.faringdon.org/faringdon-house.

ancestry.co.uk

http://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/wilts

Cassandra Austen & her one true love: Kintbury’s Thomas Fowle

Cassandra Austen had one love in her life: Kintbury’s Thomas Fowle. Following his untimely death, it seems she forsook all others and remained single for the rest of her life.

So who was Thomas Fowle?

We do not know what he looked like – perhaps we have an image in our minds of the stereotypical late eighteenth century curate – perhaps that image is a sort of caricature.

The stereotypical image of a Regency curate???

If Tom looked anything like his grandmother, his uncle or indeed his older brother Fulwar, he would have had a long nose and a very defined chin. Fulwar, we know, was not particularly tall.

So perhaps Tom did not look like a young Colin Firth as Mr Darcy – or indeed any one else as Mr Darcy. Neither was Tom the heir to a Pemberley, in fact he was heir to very little at all. But Cassandra loved him and she must have loved him for who he was.

We know that Tom was born in Kintbury in 1765 and was the second son of the parish priest, also named Thomas.

These were the days of patronage and preferment and holding the living at Kintbury had become something of a family business because Thomas’s grandfather, another Thomas, had become vicar in 1741. So the Fowles were the vicarage family in this quiet backwater – all very rural, and, it is easy to imagine, all very sedate and proper.

Three generations of the Fowle family became vicars of St Mary’s, Kintbury

However, on Thomas’s mother’s side, things had been a little bit different.

Thomas’s maternal grandfather was the Honorable Charles Craven who, between 1712 and 1716, had been the governor of South Carolina. He seems to have been something of a man of action and in 1715 actually led an army of colonists and their native American allies in a war against other native American tribes who, one presumes, saw the colonisation of their country differently.

Charles’s son, Thomas’s cousin John, seems to have been a man of action but in a very different way. He took holy orders and by the 1770s was appointed to the parish of Wolverton in Hampshire although it seems he was living at Barton Court in Kintbury at this time. If there had been a tabloid press back then, John Craven would have been a favourite for supplying sensational copy with an incident involving pistols at a hotel in Wantage and a very lurid divorce case in which maids testified at having heard the sound of beds springs coming from a lady’s room John had recently entered.

Thomas’s grandmother, Elizabeth Craven, was, we believe, something of a socialite. Her bust, now in the north transept at St Mary’s church, Kintbury, is part of the very elaborate and – when it was new – eye-wateringly expensive monument to her second husband, Jemmet Raymond. The representation of Elizabeth, presumably based on a portrait now long lost, shows face with a very stern expression.

Elizabeth Craven is believed to have had a difficult relationship with her daughters. One is said to have eloped with a horse dealer and another, Martha, left home to work as a seemstress under an assumed name to hide her identity. Eventually she married the Rev Noyes Lloyd of Enborne near Kintbury and became the mother of Eliza, Martha and Mary Lloyd. Jane Craven married Thomas Fowle II of Kintbury and became the mother of Thomas and his brothers, Fulwar-Craven, William and Charles.

However, the Craven relation who would have the most devastating influence on Thomas’s life has to be his cousin, William Craven, 1^st Earl of Craven of the 2^nd creation – to give him his full title – and the son of one of the richest men in England. Other people choose to remember him as the man who kept his mistress Harriet Wilson at Ashdown House.

Lawrence, Thomas; Lieutenant-General William Craven (1770-1825), 1st Earl of Craven; National Army Museum; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/lieutenant-general-william-craven-17701825-1st-earl-of-craven-182755

One wonders what the family at Kintbury would have thought of those Craven relations – what would Thomas and his brothers have told Jane and Cassandra of their grandmother, whose memorial back then would have been to one side of the altar and therefore much more prominent? Perhaps they would have enjoyed the gossip value and agreed with Mr Bennet that we exist to make sport for our neighbours and laugh at them in our turn.

But nothing sensational or scandalous ever attached itself to the Fowles in their Kintbury vicarage. Being related to members of the extremely wealthy Craven family, was, I suppose, an advantage for both the Fowles at Kintbury and the Lloyds at Enborne since this was still the time when members of the aristocracy and more influential gentry could appoint vicars to parishes within their gift. However, having a grandfather who was an honourable and a cousin who was an earl did not mean the Fowles or the Lloyds moved easily in similar social circles. The Fowles were not wealthy. Thomas Fowle II did not send his sons to a public (expensive fee-paying) school such as those at Winchester, Harrow or Eton. Instead Fulwar, Thomas, William and Charles were sent to the vicarage at Steventon in Hampshire to be educated by their father’s friend from university days, Rev George Austen.

Thomas Fowle was 14 in 1779 when he was sent to study at Steventon, presumably with the intention that George Austen’s teaching would prepare him for a place at Oxford University. Fulwar had taken his place at the vicarage school in the previous year and it is not surprising that the Kintbury boys became close friends with the Austens of the same age, in particular with James. Cassandra was just six when Tom arrived at Steventon and ten when he left to take up his place at St John’s College, Oxford.

Home theatricals were a popular past time at Steventon and in December 1782 the young Austens, along with some of their father’s pupils, staged their own production of a contemporary play, “The tragedy of Matilda” by James Francklin. James Austen wrote a prologue for the play, which was spoken by his brother Edward, and an epilogue which was spoken by Tom Fowle. For the nine year old Cassandra, the Fowle boys must have seemed as familiar as her own brothers and it is easy to imagine how her relationship with Tom grew in the creative atmosphere of the Steventon vicarage.

The west door to Kintbury church (detail).

The following year, 1783, Tom went up to Oxford, where he graduated with a BA from St John’s college in 1787 and then taking Holy Orders. He became curate of East Woodhay – not far from Kintbury – in 1788 and also, in the manner of the time, at another parish, Welford, also not far from Kintbury.

We know that on at least on two occasions, Tom officiated at weddings at George Austen’s church in Steventon, one in 1789 and another in December 1792. On this occasion the marriage was between Mrs Austen’s niece, Jane Cooper and one Thomas Williams Esq. Both of her parents having died, Jane was being married from the home of her aunt and uncle, with George Austen taking the place of her father, I presume, and therefore unable to officiate. I think it says something of the relationship between the Austens and the Fowles that Tom stands in for Rev Austen to officiate at this wedding rather than a local curate.

Although Cassandra was only ten when Thomas left Steventon for Oxford, we know that in later years various members of the Austen family visited their friends at the Kintbury vicarage. In a poem written at Kintbury in 1812, James Austen, who was a particular friend of Tom’s elder brother, Fulwar, recalls his visit to Kintbury in the early 1780s:

“ Yes, full thirty years have passed away,

Fresh in my memory still appears the day

When first I trod this hospitable ground…”

James recalls with affection, Jane & Thomas Fowle:

“ The father grave; yet oft with humour dry,

Producing the quaint jest or shrewd reply,

The busy bustling mother who like Eve,

Would ever and anon the circle leave

Her mind on hospitable thoughts intent.”

James Austen’s poem creates an image of a warm and welcoming family with a sense of humour, not unlike the impression we get of the Austen family themselves.

The poem has some very sad lines as James recalls Cassandra’s betrothal to Tom:

“Our friendship soon had known a dearer tie

Than friendship self could ever yet supply,

And I had lived with confidence to join

A much loved sister’s trembling hand to thine.”

In 1788, Fulwar had married his cousin, Eliza Lloyd, whose sisters, Mary and Martha Lloyd were to become close friends with Jane and Cassandra. In 1797, Mary Lloyd became James Austen’s second wife. They had first met in Kintbury.

So this was the extended family circle Cassandra anticipated joining when she quietly became engaged to Tom in 1795. By this time she was 22 and he was 29 and for two years had been rector at the church of St John the Baptist in Allington near Salisbury in Wiltshire.

The church of St John the Baptist, Allington, Wiltshire

Family connections had given Tom the post as Allington was one of the parishes in the gift of his cousin, Lord Craven. However, the stripend Tom received from his position here was not enough to support a wife. But Lord Craven had another parish in mind for Tom, however, in Shropshire, and it seems to have been confidently expected that Shropshire was where Tom and Cassandra would be living after their wedding.

But sadly, that wedding never happened.

In 1793, Britain was at war with France. Both countries had interests in the West Indies which resulted in the conflict spreading beyond Europe and across the Atlantic. In 1795, General Sir Ralph Abercrombie was to lead a 19,000 strong expeditionary force to the West Indies. Their number included the Third Regiment of Foot whose colonelcy had recently been bought by Tom’s cousin, Lord Craven.

It is believed that Craven did not know of Tom’s engagement when he asked his cousin to accompany the troops as Regimental Chaplain, and if he had known, would not have suggested Tom should join the expedition. It is possible that Cassandra herself had forbidden Tom from mentioning it. Tom accepted the post and hurriedly made his will on 10^th October. It was not witnessed, which suggests, I think, the haste in which it was completed and also perhaps the secrecy of the engagement.

Was it simply that Tom was hoping to raise enough money for him and Cassandra to live comfortably after their wedding that made this young priest accept the post? Was it that he felt he could not say no to his illustrious cousin? Tom would not be the first member of his family to make the Atlantic crossing – his grandfather had been governor of South Carolina, after all. But the journey to the West Indies was well known as potentially dangerous.

In the late autumn of 1795, Cassandra came to Kintbury to take her leave of Tom. Abercrombie’s expedition was delayed by the lack of men and equipment, but eventually sailed from Portsmouth, Hampshire, in November although bad weather in the channel caused further delays to the fleet. It seems likely that Cassandra was staying with the Fowles throughout this time.

“What a funny name Tom has got for his vessel”, Jane wrote to Cassandra on January 9th, “But he has no taste in names, as we well know, and I dare say he christened it himself.”

Then on the 15^th she wrote,

“I am very glad to find from Mary that Mr & Mrs Fowle are pleased with you. I hope you will continue to give satisfaction.”

This must have been a horrible time for Cassandra ; Jane’s apparently light-hearted humour must be seen as a way of coping with a very stressful situation.

Jane had received a letter from Tom anticipating the fleet’s departure from the Devonshire port of Falmouth, which eventually happened on January 10^th 1796. “By this time…they are at Barbadoes, I suppose, ” Jane wrote to Cassandra, though, of course, there would be no way of knowing that for sure.

Sadly, Cassandra would never see her Tom again. He died of yellow fever on 13^th February 1797 in San Domingo and was buried at sea. Cassandra and the Fowles were expecting to hear of Tom’s return to England; instead, sometime during April they received the news of his death.

We can presume that it would have been Tom’s parents, Thomas & Jane, who would receive the news first. But it fell to James Austen and his new wife, Mary Lloyd Austen, to break it to Cassandra that Tom would never return. We can only imagine what shock waves this awful news must have sent through the now extended families of Austens, Fowles and Lloyds. According to Jane, Cassandra behaved with, “a degree of resolution and propriety which no common mind could evince in so trying a situation.”

Because Tom’s will had not been witnessed, his brothers Fulwar and William were required to swear to its veracity, which they did on May 10^th 1797. He had left £1,000 to Cassandra, which, whilst not a fortune, was, when carefully invested, a very useful sum.

Tom’s death, however, was not the end of Cassandra’s relationship with the Fowles. As with Persuasion’s Captain Benwick and the family of the deceased Fanny Harville, it seems as if Cassandra’s relationship with the Fowles grew even stronger following Tom’s death and Cassandra continued to visit Kintbury.

As we know, Cassandra never married but shared her life with her sister Jane and their friend Martha Lloyd. Martha, of course, was the sister of Eliza Fowle who continued to live in the vicarage at Kintbury until her death in 1839. We know from Jane’s surviving letters and other sources that the Austens, the Fowles and the Lloyds continued to exchange visits and letters.

We know that Cassandra accompanied Jane on her last visit to Kintbury in early June of 1816. That was the occasion recalled by Mary Jane Dexter, Fulwar & Eliza’s daughter, when Jane seemed to be revisiting her old haunts as if she did not expect to see them again.

So was the visit in 1816 Kintbury’s last link with Cassandra? I think not.

Fulwar Craven Fowle’s daughters, Mary Jane, Elizabeth Caroline and Isabella had, as children, all known both Jane and Cassandra. Mary Jane married Lieutenant Christopher Dexter and lived with him some time in India. She was widowed at 31 and returned to Kintbury where she died in 1883. Isabella married a local doctor, John Lidderdale, and also lived in Kintbury until her death in 1884.

That leaves Elizabeth Caroline, the daughter who had been christened by James Austen in 1799 and described by Jane in 1801 as “a really pretty child. She is still very shy & does not talk much.”

Elizabeth Caroline Fowle never married but, like her sisters, continued to live in Kintbury. When Cassandra Austen died in March 1845, she left Elizabeth Caroline £1,000 – exactly the sum left to her by Tom – and a large Indian shawl that had once belonged to Mrs Jane Fowle, Tom’s mother.

Quite why Elizabeth Caroline should be the only member of the Fowle family to be a beneficiary of Cassandra’s will, I have not been able to find out. Perhaps, as the one Fowle sister who never married, Cassandra felt some fellow-feeling for her – maybe Elizabeth Caroline had suffered a disappointment such as Cassandra had when Tom died. Also, there is evidence to suggest that Elizabeth Caroline was not quite so well off as her sisters. Perhaps, as James Austen had baptised Elizabeth Caroline, Cassandra had stood as one of her godparents – I do not know. In 1860, Elizabeth Caroline Fowle died, having spent the last six months of her life, not in Kintbury, but as a private patient at an asylum in London.

In 1860 the old vicarage – the home to three generations of the Fowle family, the place where James Austen first met Mary Lloyd and where Cassandra had said her last goodbye to Tom – was pulled down to be replaced by a house in the very latest Victorian neo-Gothic style.

To this day, there are houses in Kintbury where, it is sometimes claimed, Jane Austen stayed. I believe that the only house about which we can say for sure, “Jane Austen stayed here” was the original vicarage on the banks of the canal, now long gone and replaced. Cassandra may well have continued to visit Rev Fuller and his wife Eliza there after Jane’s death. However, with regards to the other houses, I believe that it has to be likely that these were the homes of Elizabeth Caroline, Mary or Isabella and that Cassandra would have stayed with with one of them on her later visits to Kintbury. It has to be very likely that, over the years, local folk memory has somehow become confused. So, when Kintbury villagers knowingly talked to their children and grandchildren of the illustrious visitors who once stayed here, the Miss Austen of whom they spoke so respectfully was not Jane, but Cassandra.

The route of the old coaching road into Kintbury

From a dig at Inkpen to the skies above Stonehenge:

O.G.S. Crawford – the man who put history on the O.S. Maps

I have always enjoyed looking at Ordnance Survey maps – to plan routes for days out or just afternoon walks, or simply to see the names of woods, rivers, hills or countless other features all carefully recorded. But for me one of the most fascinating features of O.S. maps are those places labelled in a gothic or Old English font which indicate a site of historic or archaeological significance. “Walbury”, “long barrow” ( on Gallows Down ) and “moat” ( at Balsden Farm ) are all good examples from the Kintbury area.

Although the Ordnance Survey started publishing maps over 200 years ago, originally for military purposes, it was not until the 1920s that historic and archaeological sites were first identified as they are now. And the person first responsible for including that information had an interesting connection with our area.

Osbert Guy Stanhope Crawford was born in 1886 in Bombay, India where his father was a judge. However, as his mother died soon after his birth, he was sent back to England to live in London with two of his aunts. While the young Osbert was still of school age, he moved with them to The Grove, East Woodhay, a few miles from Kintbury and just over the border in Hampshire. Later the Crawfords relocated to Tan House, Donnington, just outside Newbury.

Crawford was educated at Marlborough College in Wiltshire and it was there that his interest in archaeology grew. As a member of the College’s Natural History Society, Crawford visited various Wiltshire archaeological sites such as Stonehenge, West Kennet Long Barrow and Avebury.

From Marlborough, Crawford went up Oxford University where his interest in archaeology continued. In 1908, whilst still a student, he excavated a Bronze Age round barrow at Inkpen, not far from his aunts’ East Woodhay home, as well as other – possibly less successful – work excavating at Walbury Beacon.

It was around this time that Crawford became friends with archaeologist and anthropologist Harold Peake and his wife Charlotte, excavating with them at Botley Copse near Marlborough. Harold Peake is particularly remembered in this area as being curator of the Borough of Newbury Museum from 1867 to 1946 and the person responsible for building up an important collection for what was later to become the West Berkshire Museum.

The Peakes lived at Westbrook House, Boxford, just to the north of Kintbury. Their interests included not only archaeology and anthropology but music, folklore and drama and they were very supported of younger people such as Crawford. It is believed that, under Peake’s influence, Crawford began to question the kind of extreme religious beliefs held by his aunts, in favour of a more science-based world view.

After graduating from Oxford, Crawford worked as an archaeologist in both Britain and Sudan. During the First World War he served as a photographer with the Royal Flying Corp but spent time in a German P.O.W. camp, having been shot down.

In the 1920s, Crawford worked for the Ordnance Survey in Southampton, as its first Archaeological Officer. It was around this time that historians and archaeologists began to use aerial photography in identifying and interpreting historic sites which could no longer be seen clearly above ground. The remains of structures and earth works which have long disappeared can be identified through crop marks and shadows which can then be studied using aerial photographs. Crawford’s time with the Royal Flying Corp would have given him first hand experience of how useful such photographs can be.

Crawford used the study of aerial photographs as well as information gathered from local antiquarian and historical societies to identify the locations of many ancient monuments which would not have been visible to cartographers working in the field. He also conducted his own surveys, often travelling across the countryside on his bicycle. Crawford then annotated each O.S. map by hand, adding the names and locations we are now familiar with but which today are identified on our maps in a gothic font.

At this time, Alexander Keiller, heir to the family fortune made in marmalade, was living at Avebury Manor. An amateur archaeologist, he had been involved in excavating the world-famous neolithic henge and other associated sites. In 1924 Crawford joined Keiller in an aerial survey of Wiltshire and Somerset as well as Berkshire, Hampshire and Dorset and in 1928 they published Wessex From The Air, a groundbreaking aerial photography survey of our area and the landscape of the wider Wessex.

Crawford assisted Keiller in the fund raising which enabled Stonehenge to be bought for the nation, and in 1927 he founded the influential archaeological journal, Antiquity.

Keiller worked for the O.S. until 1946 when he turned his attention to the preservation of those historic buildings in Southampton which had survived the devastation of the blitz during the Second World War.

Today, O.G.S. Crawford is recognised as an important figure in twentieth century archaeology. It is interesting to think that this important career began in part with an excavation at Inkpen and a friendship in Boxford.

Crawford died in 1957.

Sources:

https://www.ordnancesurvey.co.uk/about/history

https://historicengland.org.uk/images-books/archive/collections/aerial-photos/

https://hantsfieldclub.org.uk/ihr100/profiles-c/crawford.html

https://www.sarsen.org/2018/04/capturing-material-invisible-ogs.html

The Kintbury Martyr: 3

Kintbury and Hungerford were not the only places to be affected by the events we now know as the “Swing Riots”on those dark nights in November, 1830. Other parts of West Berkshire saw similar protests and by December there were 249 prisoners being held in custody at the County Gaol, according to the newspaper. On Monday 27th December the trial opened of the labourers from Kintbury and Hungerford as well as others from the Aldermaston area – 134 men in all.

The trial begins

The Berkshire Chronicle reported that the majority were charged with “ riotously assembling and destroying threshing machines and other species of property.” These “outrages” were “accompanied by robberies of money and in a fewer number of instances, provisions were forcibly demanded and obtained.”

The report goes on to say that only 25 of the prisoners could read and write, 37 could read only and the remainder could neither read nor write. (This is not surprising considering that no formal education would have been available to them.)

On Tuesday 28^th December, William Oakley, William Smith alias Winterbourne, Daniel Bates and Edmund Steel were placed at the bar, charged with robbing John Willes, Esq of five sovereigns on 22^nd November in Hungerford, and also of riot, further robbery and destroying machinery. (Presumably, robbing a gentleman of five shillings was considered to be a more serious crime than the rioting and destroying machinery.) None of the men were themselves agricultural labourers. Oakley was described as being about 25 and “better dressed than is usual among members of the class of working tradesmen.”

The Berkshire Chronicle’s journalist clearly felt no need to avoid subjectivity or bias in his reporting, stating that Oakley was, “a pale sinister-looking person, as is Winterbourne.” Winterbourne was 33 but looked older. Bates was described as having, “an extremely mild, good natured expression of countenance”, whilst Steele was a “determined looking man”. Winterbourne was the only one of the four who could neither read nor write, being described as, “entirely uneducated”.

John Hill of Standon House, Hungerford, was quoted at length. He recounted that on 22^nd of November he was in the company of 11 or 12 others intending to prevent the “Kintbury mob” from approaching Mr Cherry’s house (Denford House). They met the mob, which apparently consisted of 200 to 300 men, on the Bath Road. “Some of them had large stakes and sticks in their hands.”

The mob proceeded to Hungerford where they broke windows in Mr Annings’ house. Next they broke into Mr Gibbons’ foundry. Mr Willes, Mr Pearse and others then went to the Town Hall where they met with five “deputies” from the Hungerford mob and five from the Kintbury mob. Winterbourne, Oakley, Bates and Steele were four of the Kintbury deputies and were present when the Hungerford deputies demanded 12 shillings a week wages, the destruction of the threshing machines and a reduction in house rent. Mr Pearce agreed that wages should be raised though he was not able to say anything about the rent.

Next the Kintbury deputies spoke and according to John Hill, Oakley said, “You have had a parcel of flats to deal with, but we are not to be so easily caught”. He demanded £5. Then Bates allegedly flourished a sledge hammer and, striking it on the ground, said, “We will be d—– if we don’t have the £5 or blood”.

Apparently, other witnesses could recall more of what was said: Mr Joseph Atherton recalled Oakley as having added, “We will have 2 shillings a day till Lady day and half a crown afterwards for labourers, and 3 shillings and six pence for tradesmen. And, as we are here, we will have £5 before we leave the place or we will smash it.”

According to Atherton, many of the men were armed with bludgeons, sledge hammers and iron bars.

Oakley is reported as having then addressed himself to Mr Pearce: “You gentlemen have been living long enough on the good things; now it is our time, and we will have them. You gentlemen would not speak to us now, only you are afraid and intimidated.”

Until this point there is no account of Winterbourne having spoken but then someone called Osbourne is alleged to have put a hand on his shoulder, to which he replied, “If any man put his hand upon me, I will knock him down or split his skull”.

Atherton alleged that Winterbourne was carrying an iron bar, three or four feet long in his hand, whilst Oakley had an iron bar, Bates a sledge hammer and Steel a stick.

According to the witness, Winterbourne said to Bates, “ Brother, we have lived together and we will die together” and this was the point at which Bates struck the sledge hammer hard on the floor, saying, “Yes, we will have it or we will have blood and down with the b—–y place”.

According to Atherton, this was the point at which Bates flourished the sledge hammer over the head of Mr Willes who responded with. “If you kill me you only shorten the days of an old man”. Mr Willes then gave five sovereigns to the prisoners, who left.

A third witness, Mr Stephen Major, recalled Mr Willes as requesting the men to leave their weapons outside the door, but that Oakley replied, “I’ll see you d—- first”. Then he said, “Here are only five of us, but we can soon clear the room.”

The final witness whose evidence was reported, was Willes – a magistrate – himself. Willes recalled meeting with the mob on their way to Mr Cherry’s house (Denford House, on the Bath Road). He asked the men not to go to Denford House but to follow him to Hungerford Town Hall where, if they were reasonable, he would hear their grievances. He recalled trying to stop the men from breaking Mr Annings’ windows and attacking Mr Gibbons’ manufactory but without success.

Willes believed that the combined Hungerford and Kintbury mob numbered 400 and it was his request that five members from each village should come into the town hall. He alleged that the men said that they never would have come there but for he who enticed them and that they would not leave the hall without having money – £5. When he was cross examined, Willes said that the mob treated him kindly and led his horse by the bridle. Observing that Steel had a hatchet in his hand, he said to him, “My friend, that is a lethal weapon you have; it would split a man’s skull”, to which Steel replied, “Depend upon it, sir, it shall never injure yours”.

The next crime for which the men were, variously, charged was that of riotous and tumultuous assembly and destroying certain machinery employed in the manufacture of cast-iron goods. Several machines had been destroyed that night, and demands made for money or “vituals”. This included destroying the threshing machine belonging to Captain Thomas Dunn at Kintbury and also one belonging to Joseph Randall in Hampstead Marshall, where the men also demanded money or food and drink. Elizabeth Randall recalled that one man wielded a sledge hammer, others had sticks. She said that the men referred to William Winterbourne as, “Captain” which would have given the impression that he was a ring leader. He had instructed the men, she said, not to damage the farm house.

Intimidating behaviour?

It is interesting to note that the accounts of witnesses to the events of 22^nd November, particularly those in Hungerford Town Hall, describe scenes which are much more intimidating and potentially violent than the impression given by Rev Fowle of his meetings with the men that day. Fowle’s account includes none of the kind of language used by Dundas in his letter to Home Secretary Melbourne of November 24^th when he speaks of the, “shameful and outrageous conduct of the labourers”. In describing his meetings with the men, Fowle’s tone would seem to be conciliatory, even sympathetic in an understated way. He is not judgemental and makes no negative or pejorative comments about their behaviour, even though it could not have been pleasant to have been woken up at four in the morning by a band of men intent upon destroying machinery. The men obviously felt he was on their side when they gave him three cheers. All the evidence available would suggest that Fowle has sympathy with the plight of these men – his parishioners.

Sentenced to death

Sympathy, however, seems to have been in short supply as far as the court was concerned. Sentences of imprisonment, transportation and execution were available to the judges at the trials of the 138 West Berkshire men who stood accused and most were given prison sentences or sentenced to transportation of between 7 and 14 years. However, Mr Justice Park passed sentence of death on just three of the men, all of them from Kintbury. These were William Oakley, Alfred Darling and William Winterbourne.

According to the judge, William Oakley had taken an active part in acts of robbery and, in the robbery of Mr Wilkes, had been armed with dangerous weapons, refusing to lay them aside.

Alfred Darling, as a blacksmith, had no right – according to the judge – to be involved with the rioters.

William Winterbourne, he maintained, had taken an alarming part in the outrages as leader of the mob. He had acted as captain of the band, dictated what was to be done and “received money or not according to his will and pleasure.”

Mr Rigby disagrees

Many people disagreed with Mr Justice Park’s sentencing. Mr Rigby, counsel for the defence and the solicitor who had cross examined the men, was quoted in the Reading Mercury of 10^th January 1831 as having said:

“It has been said, that some of the persons who perpetrated these outrages were artisans, not agriculturalists, and had not the excuse of poverty or low wages. But surely let those who advance the argument consider. What! has the poor man no feeling of commiseration for his fellow man because he has a loaf on his table for his own wife and family?”

Whilst Rigby’s sympathy and understanding would have been welcomed, there is an irony here in that the pay of artisans – ie tradesmen, for example blacksmiths or carpenters – would not have been high, either.

The Reading Mercury reported that Oakley, Winterbourne and Darling were, “to be executed, the jury having found them guilty of encouraging unlawful meetings of the people, and by intimidation obtaining money from individuals.”

A petition to the King

A petition for mercy was swiftly organised to be sent to the king, William IV. In a day and a half it had collected 15,000 signatures. The ladies of the borough also organised a petition to be sent to Queen Adelaide.

King William IV

by Sir Martin Archer Shee
oil on canvas, circa 1800
NPG 2199© National Portrait Gallery, London

This was not the only petition: many County & Borough magistrates appealed to the Home Secretary, Lord Melbourne.

“Your petitioners believe….. the offence for which the prisoners have been convicted is one, which in the common opinion of uneducated men, was not considered as capital, and though ignorance of the law may be no legal defence, in all moral feeling it must and ought to have great weight; for it is possible that had these unfortunate persons been apprized of the danger they incurred, they might have stopped short of the violation of that law on account of which they have been doomed to suffer.”

Two of the grand jurors involved with the case, J.B.Monke, Esq and J.Wheble Esq, also appealed to Secretary of State, Lord Melbourne, to petition the King for mercy.

It is interesting to note that, in an age when there were so many laws on the statute books which seem to us today to be biased against the working man and woman and which did nothing but cause them hardship, the imposition of the death penalty in this case caused such strong feelings of objection. Perhaps the case of the rioters, laid out every day in the Reading newspaper reports, had caused members of the middle and upper classes to consider what life was really like for their poorer neighbours.

For Oakley and Darling, the execution of the death sentence was respited (sic) although no such mercy was accorded to Winterbourne.

January 11^th 1831

According to the Berkshire Chronicle of 15^th January 1831, it was not until the morning of his execution that Winterbourne was told he would be the only man to die. “He expressed himself glad to hear that his companions were spared.” The newspaper goes on to say that Winterbourne’s wife was lying dangerously ill of typhus fever and that one of his last wishes was that she might die before he suffered or that she might not survive to be shocked by the news of his execution.

Winterbourne was led to the scaffold where, “His large muscular form seemed cramped ,- probably from the position of his arms and tightened of the bonds by which he was pinioned. He walked firmly, but his cheek was pallid, his eyes glazed, and the prayers he uttered, though fervently and audibly expressed, came from quivering lips.”

As the prison clock struck twelve on 11^th January 1831, Winterbourne was executed.

Return to Kintbury

It would have been the custom for the executed prisoners to be buried at Reading Gaol. However, Rev Fowle arranged for Winterbourne’s body to be brought back to Kintbury, where he was buried in St Mary’s churchyard the following, day 12^th January. Furthermore, he arranged and paid for a stone to be place on the grave – something that would have been totally beyond the reach of the labouring classes at that time, whose graves would be completely unmarked and grassed over.

According to the custom of the time, the name on the grave stone reads as “William Smith”, Smith being his mother’s name and his parents not being married at the time of his birth. Also, the grave is not tucked away in some far and distant corner of the churchyard, out of sight.

There has been for some time the persistent idea that Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle had Winterbourne’s body returned to Kintbury and the stone erected because he felt in some way guilty about what had happened to him. I have to say that, in researching this, I have found no evidence for this to be the case. The letter written by Fowle to Charles Dundas (now in the National Archives) contains none of the harsh or judgemental language used against the protestors by others. As I have described above, the men gave Fowle three cheers and obviously felt able to tell him of their plans. There is no suggestion that the men arrived at the vicarage armed or that Fowle felt intimidated. All the evidence suggests to me that they expected to be treated fairly by him, and that they were.

It is believed that around 2,000 people were involved in the Swing Riots by the end of 1830. Five hundred were transported and 19 executed. This was four years before the men of Tolpuddle in Dorset were convicted of swearing a secret oath as members of the Friendly Society of Agricultural Labourers, and sentenced to transportation. Those involved in the Swing Riots are not as well remembered as the men of Tolpuddle, but they deserve to be remembered too, for their part in the workers’ struggle for a fairer life.

In Kintbury, William Smith, alias Winterbourne, is not forgotten.

Bibliography

Griffin, Emma, (2018), Diets, hunger & living standards during the British industrial revolution, Past & Present.

Lindert & Williamson, (1983), English workers living standards in the industrial revolution, The Economic History Review

Phillips, Daphne (1993), Berkshire: A County history, Newbury: Countryside Books

Thompson, David (1969), England in the nineteenth century, Pelican

Trevelyan, G.M.(1960) Illustrated English Social History:4, Pelican

Woodward, Sir Llewellyn (1962), The Age of Reform, Oxford: OUP

The Berkshire Chronicle (December1830 & January 1831)

The Berkshire Mercury (December 1830 & January 1831)

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Charles Dundas, MP, November 24^th 1830

The National Archives: Anonymous letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne, November 24^th 1830

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Charles Dundas MP & ninety other signatories, November 1830

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Lord Craven, November, 1830

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle, November 1830

Theresa A. Lock, Kintbury, October 17^th, 2020.

The Kintbury Martyr: 2

1830 saw rioting break out across southern England

A labouring man

William Smith, also known as William Winterbourne, was born in Kintbury in 1798. It is likely that he was the son of Rose Smith and that he was baptised in Kintbury on 9^th December 1798. There is no record of William’s father: it was the custom of the time for a child of unmarried parents to take the mother’s surname, although William was also known as Winterbourne which is likely to have been the name of his father.

Whilst the name William Smith appears in the Kintbury parish registers of the early 1800s, it is difficult to know for sure if this William Smith is also the man known as William Winterbourne. However, it is likely that our William married Mary Hobbs in the parish church of St Mary’s on 27^th May 1822. Unfortunately, Mary died on 27^th December 1827.

St Mary’s parish marriage register records a William Smith, who is at that time a widower, marrying a Sarah Brackstone on 28^th September, 1829. On 3^rd January 1830, William, son of William & Sarah Smith, is baptised in the parish church.

We know that William was a labourer and that the England of 1830 was not an easy time for families such as the Smiths. Forget any idea of a rural idyll. Life for William & Sarah would have been hard.

“Captain Swing”

The harvest of 1830 was particularly bad. Furthermore, unemployment was on the increase as was the resulting hunger amongst the labouring classes. For the agricultural labourers, the arrival of threshing machines on many farms meant the loss of work and therefore of an income at a time when it was most needed. Many rural workers felt desperate.

Throughout England, more and more working people began to believe that they did not have to accept their lowly position in life as inevitable: it had not been ordained by God. To what extent the labourers were influenced by the ideas of Cobbett or Hunt – or indeed by many of the other emerging radical thinkers – it is difficult to say. Perhaps the anger and resentment which had been simmering for so long finally boiled over.

Many farmers had invested in the new threshing machines and these became a focus of the agricultural labourers’ resentment and rioting broke out across the country. Many landowners received threatening letters signed by someone identifying as “Captain Swing” or simply, “Swing”. No one knows if there had ever been one particular person behind the first disturbances; it is more likely that the name “Swing” was adopted by various men instigating rebellion in different areas. Threshing machines were destroyed and fires set; perhaps it seemed to some facing destitution and starvation that the labourers were finally rising up against their oppressors.

In West Berkshire, demonstrations for improved wages and the destruction of threshing machines began in Thatcham on 13^th November 1830, moving then to other villages. In many places the gangs of protestors – commonly referred to as a “mob” – demanded money from the landowners. In some places the demonstrations were largely peaceful but by 21^st and 22^nd things in Hungerford and Kintbury apparently became more threatening.

The Kintbury Mob at the vicarage

On November 22^nd 1830, the Rev Fowle wrote to Charles Dundas, Member of Parliament and Kintbury resident, informing him that the Kintbury “mob” had been breaking threshing machines all through the previous night and that they had come to him at 4 o’clock in the morning. It seems that the men told the priest what they had been doing and which farms they intended to visit next. In the letter, Rev Fowle explains that he had consulted with one of Dundas’s men and it was agreed that, rather than destroying his threshing machine on his land at Barton Court, the men should bring it up to Kintbury and destroy it there, in the street. Presumably Fowle was trying to be conciliatory to suggest this, as the men agreed. He says that he gave the men £2, and that other landowners did the same. The men were then intending to go on to other villages in the neighbourhood, similarly demanding £2 from each landowner.

The tone of Rev Fowle’s letter to Charles Dundas is particularly interesting in that it expresses no anger or criticism of the men and in that respect is markedly different from many other letters and newspaper reports written at the time. He writes:

“I have not heard that they have committed personal violence on anyone than forcing the labourers to join them”.

He also notes that:

“Ploughs with cast iron shears appear to be as much the object of their hatred as machines and I hear they have broken many.”

At this point in the letter, Rev Fowle writes that he has just received a message from W.Willes (the Hungerford magistrate) which informed him that the Kintbury men had later been joined by those from Hungerford, and the mob now numbered 1000 men. A deputation of ten men had spoken with some gentlemen at Hungerford (the distinction of class being particularly significant at that time) and it had been agreed that the men should receive 12 shillings a week for a man, wife and three children and the price of a gallon loaf for every child above three. Fowle says that he hopes the farmers will agree to this.

In a post script to the letter, Rev Fowle explains to Dundas that he has since met again with the men, who have returned from Hungerford:

“ I told them that as far as was in my power I would endeavour to persuade the farmers to agree with them. The men gave three cheers and expressed themselves perfectly satisfied but they also agreed that there must be no payment in bread but all in money”.

Letters to the Home Secretary

What the protesting men of Kintbury told others in the village about their meeting at the vicarage could have caused trouble for the vicar. It was not the time or place for a person such as Rev Fowle to appear to be sympathetic to the “mob”. Someone, it seems, later complained to Lord Melbourne, the Home Secretary, suggesting that Rev Fowle had encouraged the rioters. This would never do. The Home Secretary was the person to whom those in positions of authority would appeal for support when confronting disorder, so it would not look good if a local priest and magistrate had been reported as encouraging the rioters. Consequently, Charles Dundas and ninety other parishioners signed a letter to Melbourne, to ensure him that Mr Fowle had done everything he could to quiet the disturbances and prevent the destruction of property.

What the papers said

Despite Rev Fowle’s interventions, however, it would seem that the men had not returned peaceably to work and support in suppressing the mob had been requested. According to a report in the Reading Mercury of 29^th November, the previous Wednesday, November 24^th, had seen a detachment of Grenadier Guards who arrived in Newbury in three stage coaches, followed by a troop of Lancers. An order was given that every householder or individual who could muster on horseback should attend the Market Place at 12 o’clock and eventually a band of men some 200 strong and including special constables made its way towards Kintbury where it met Charles Dundas in his role as Colonel of the White Horse Volunteer Cavalry.

The Reading Mercury report stated that the mob had retreated to public houses, stables, outhouses and cottages so a detachment of horse was sent to the south and west of Kintbury to prevent any escaping. The Grenadier Guards were to guard the prisoners when they had been brought in by the horsemen. Colonel Dundas, it reports, had heard that several men were concealed at the Red Lion (now the Dundas Arms) and took a ringleader by the name of Westal. The men then went on to the Blue Ball, – described as the “chief depot”- where they met little resistance.

“Shameful & outrageous”

Later that day, Charles Dundas wrote to Home Secretary Melbourne of the “shameful and outrageous conduct of the labourers.” There had been a “most notorious gang” which had surrounded the ale houses. However, at the end of the operation, fifty five of the principal rioters had been delivered to commander of the guards, Captain Aston.

What had happened between Rev Fowle’s meeting with the protestors at four o’clock on the morning of November 22^nd and the afternoon of November 24^th to require a detachment of Grenadier Guards to be sent to Kintbury? Fowle’s letter of November 22^nd to Dundas does not suggest that the sixty-six year old vicar felt threatened or intimidated by the labourers, although it may be that only a few of the more respectful of them had approached the vicarage. His letter says that he has spoken to them on their return from Hungerford when he assures them he will do everything in his power to persuade the farmers to agree to 12 shillings a week pay. There is no suggestion that the labourers showed signs of violent behaviour when they had arrived at Rev Fowle’s vicarage. However, it seems that other events that night were not so peaceful – with tragic outcomes.

Bibliography

Griffin, Emma, (2018), Diets, hunger & living standards during the British industrial revolution, Past & Present.

Lindert & Williamson, (1983), English workers living standards in the industrial revolution, The Economic History Review

Phillips, Daphne (1993), Berkshire: A County history, Newbury: Countryside Books

Thompson, David (1969), England in the nineteenth century, Pelican

Trevelyan, G.M.(1960) Illustrated English Social History:4, Pelican

Woodward, Sir Llewellyn (1962), The Age of Reform, Oxford: OUP

The Berkshire Chronicle (December1830 & January 1831)

The Berkshire Mercury (December 1830 & January 1831)

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Charles Dundas, MP, November 24^th 1830

The National Archives: Anonymous letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne, November 24^th 1830

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Charles Dundas MP & ninety other signatories, November 1830

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Lord Craven, November, 1830

The National Archives: Letter to Rt Hon Lord Melbourne from Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle, November 1830

Theresa A. Lock, Kintbury, October 17^th, 2020.

The Kintbury Martyr: 1

The late 1820s saw riots and demonstations break out in many villages and towns across southern England, including Kintbury. So what had happened to England’s green and pleasant land to cause this?

1830: A time of poverty, resentment and anger

In the early years of the nineteenth century, the industrial revolution was leading to the growth of factories and mills in the rapidly expanding towns of the north and midlands. However, counties in the south of England such as Berkshire remained predominantly agricultural. And it wasn’t just the men who worked the land: many women were employed in agriculture and even children worked on the land rather than receiving an education. As it would be another forty years before the introduction of free education for all, very many poorer people in the earlier years of the nineteenth century had no opportunity to learn to read or write.

A link to the wider world

The Kennet & Avon canal had been completed in 1810 so Kintbury people would have become used to seeing colourful barges pass through the village, manned by the itinerate families of bargees; such sights must have seemed strange and exotic to Kintburians who might never have travelled as far as Newbury. Travel for most was by foot or horse drawn vehicle, although occasionally coaches belonging to the better off would have turned off the Bath Road, down what we now know as the avenue, past the church and south through the village.

Whilst families such as those at Barton Court would have lived in comfort and luxury, home for the average agricultural labourer and his family was a very humble cottage, often little more than two or three rooms, sparsely furnished and lit by tallow candles.

Bread on the table

The war with France had ended some fifteen years previously but the peace had also brought with it a recession. Furthermore, 1830 saw the third poor harvest in succession, putting up the price of wheat and subsequently of bread. This was not good news for the agricultural labourer, whose wages for the year had dropped from £40.00 (15 shillings or 76 pence a week) in 1815 to £31 (12 shillings or 59 pence a week) in 1827.

Labourers in other occupations fared a little better with an average pay of £43 a year (16 shillings or 82p a week ). Meanwhile, colliers in the north and midlands averaged £54 a year (slightly over the lofty sum of £1 a week ) and cotton spinners £58.50 a year (£1 / 2 shillings or £1.10p a week ). It was no wonder that many agricultural workers in the north of England were migrating to the urban areas where work in mills and factories promised higher wages. But no such opportunities existed for the agricultural labourers of the south.

These wages were in stark contrast to the annual incomes of those in authority and positions of power. Whilst a clergyman was not considered wealthy within his class, an annual income of £254 or £4/17shillings a week must have seemed a fortune to the labourer. Meanwhile, far removed in their offices in Newbury or Reading, a solicitor could earn up to £522 a year. But this was a world away from the life of the agricultural labourer.

A restricted diet

So how did the agricultural labourer exist on 12 shillings a week? His family’s diet would have been restricted and unvarying, consisting, for example, of bread, bacon, small amounts of cheese, butter, milk, tea, sugar and salt – all carefully rationed. There might have been small amounts of meat other than bacon and some labourers were able to keep a pig. If the cottage garden was large enough and the soil suitable, vegetables could also be grown at home. Research has suggested that 71% of the family’s income would have been spent on bread alone: not surprising as it would have been a staple and eaten at every meal. The Berkshire Chronicle of April 3^rd 1829 records the latest price for a gallon loaf in Newbury to be between 1 shilling, 7 pence (1/7d) and 1 shilling, 9 pence (1/9d). Prices, however, varied according to the success or otherwise of the harvest each year.

No more rabbit pie

Whilst previous generations of country dwellers would have been able to augment their diets by catching rabbits and fowl on common land, the Enclosure Acts meant that land owners had been able to fence off vast tracts of land over which the labourers had previously been able to walk freely. It also drastically reduced the areas of land available for the poorer classes to cultivate for themselves. Furthermore, the harsh Game Laws resulted in strict penalties for anyone caught poaching. The law of 1816 imposed the penalty of seven years transportation (ie being sent to a penal colony in Australia) for anyone caught with nets to snare a rabbit, even if no rabbit had been trapped. Until 1827 it was perfectly legal for landowners to set mantraps on their land. These devices could, at best, break a man’s leg and at worst cause him a long and lingering death as a result of his injuries.

Keeping the peace

These are the years before the establishment of police forces across the country: Newbury Borough Police was not established until 1835. Instead, law and order were maintained through a system of harsh penalties designed to deter crime and the only way of dealing with more extreme disorder was to call upon the militia. The death penalty existed for over 200 crimes and for others, those convicted could be transported – a system of dealing with convicts, both men and women, until 1868.

In the towns and villages, watchmen and constables were responsible for keeping the peace and those arrested were taken before the local magistrates. These local magistrates, or Justices of the Peace, represented the face of the establishment for the villagers, and it was their business to uphold the laws enacted by parliament. In 1830, the Houses of Parliament might as well have been on the moon to the working people of England, most of whom were not able to vote until the early years of the twentieth century. One of Berkshire’s two MPs at the time, Charles Dundas, 1^st Baron Amesbury, lived at Barton Court, Kintbury. The wealthier villagers, particularly the very few men who were at that time able to vote, might have felt that Dundas represented their interests. This sentiment would not have been shared by the poorer working people.

The Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle

Whilst many villagers might well have been unfamiliar with Charles Dundas other than by name and as the owner of the large and comfortable house along the avenue on the way to the Bath Road, they would have been much more familiar with the local magistrate. The Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle was vicar of Kintbury, the third generation of his family to hold the living. He was also the grandson of Lord “Governor” Craven, sometime governor of South Carolina and previous resident of Hamstead Park. Thus, Rev Fowle was several rungs up the social ladder from the labourers at the very bottom, inhabiting a world far distant from theirs. We know from the letters of Jane Austen – a family friend of the Fowles – that Fulwar Craven Fowle could be bad tempered although there is evidence that he was much loved by his parishioners. Many of the village labourers, however, may very well not have belonged to the Anglican church and are likely to have been members of one of the non-conformist churches (or chapels) and so would not have known Rev Fowle as their priest, but as a magistrate and as a member of one of the better-off village families.

Thus Rev Fowle represented the face of an establishment which had introduced harsh and punitive laws, a system which had reduced the labourer to a life of poverty from which there was no chance of escape.

Representing the people

Charles Dundas, Baron Amesbury

by William Say, after Sir William Beechey
mezzotint, (1823)
NPG D11326

In 1830, only around 5% of the people were eligible to vote and, with the exception of a few women living in some towns, those who could vote were all men. There was much political corruption and some constituencies were always represented by certain, influential families. In Berkshire, Abingdon (then in Berkshire) returned one member of parliament, Reading two and Wallingford (also in Berkshire at that time), also returned two MPs. The rest of Berkshire – which then stretched as far north as the Thames –was represented in total by just two MPs. In 1830, these were Robert Palmer and the resident of Barton Court, Kintbury, Charles Dundas. Over the border to the west, Great Bedwyn, smaller than Hungerford, returned two MPs, and further south in Wiltshire, Old Sarum – a place with no inhabitants at all, continued to send two MPs to Westminster.

So whilst Members of Parliament were responsible for passing the laws which severely restricted the lives of the working people, causing much hardship, those MPs were answerable to very few. And those who could vote lived their lives pretty much untouched by the kind of challenges afflicting the poor.

Know your place

There existed a very clearly defined class system in England at this time. At the top of the social ladder were the nobility such as William Lamb, 2^nd Viscount Melbourne, the Home Secretary in 1830. Letters addressed to him begin, “My Lord…”.

Further down the social ladder, but still a long way from the bottom, those of the landowning classes who did not have titles have “Esq” – short for “esquire”- after their names whilst those on the next rung down are referred to as “Gentlemen”.

Newspaper reports of this time often refer to “gentlemen and farmers”, because a farmer was not necessarily also a “gentleman”. However, the farmer was several rungs above the labourers who worked for him. These labourers are not even afforded the title, “Mr” and in some reports are referred to as “the peasantry”.

The popular hymn, “All things bright and beautiful”, published in 1848, originally included the verse which read:

The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them high and lowly,
And ordered their estate.

Campaigning for change.

It is not surprising that there was, throughout England, a growing movement advocating reform. However, many who could remember the events of the French Revolution of the 1790s, which had seen the overthrow of the monarchy and the execution of many members of the upper classes, continued to fear that something similar would happen in England. Demands such as the right for everyone to vote, equal rights before the law or the abolition of child labour – all of which seemed perfectly reasonable to many – were regarded by some members of the establishment as a threat to their way of life and a slippery slope towards a repeat in England of what had happened in France.

By contrast, the events in France had inspired others to advocate reform of parliament and the law. One such was the wealthy farmer from Wiltshire, Henry Hunt, an inspirational speaker who had been given the nick-name “Orator” Hunt. In 1819, he had been invited to speak at a rally in Manchester which was attended by a crowd of around 60,000 people. Fearful of the effect one of Hunt’s rousing speeches would have upon the crowd, the local magistrates panicked and sent in the militia, who were armed with sabres. In the resulting massacre, up to fifteen people are believed to have been killed and hundreds injured.

Another radical thinker of the period was William Cobbett, the son of a farmer from Surrey who had become involved in political debate and the need for parliamentary reform. Cobbett was also a journalist and as well as essays and letters he published a weekly newspaper called The Political Register which soon became popular amongst the poorer classes. Not everyone was able to read Cobbett’s newspaper for themselves but it is likely that those lucky enough to be literate would have read aloud to others and so the views expressed were shared more widely than the circulation of the paper copies.

William Cobbett

possibly by George Cooke
oil on canvas, circa 1831
NPG 1549

It is very likely that that copies of The Political Register would have been shared or read aloud, perhaps in the public houses or other meeting places, around Hungerford or Kintbury such that the poor and oppressed rural labourers became aware of those who had already set out to challenge the status quo.

The Threshing Machine

National Gallery of Scotland

Threshing is the process of separating the grains of wheat from the chaff. Before the introduction of threshing machines, this was a very labour intensive process done by hand using a flail. Threshing took place in the autumn after the harvest had been brought in and provided employment for hard-pressed agricultural labourers at a time in the year when there was very little other farm work available. At a time when wages were lower than ever and the price of bread increasing, what the farm labourer could earn by threshing helped to keep him and his family throughout the bleakest part of the winter.

Threshing machines required very few labourers to operate them so their introduction meant the loss of work for many men. And loss of work at such a crucial time meant, for many, the fear of starvation throughout the winter months.

Many agricultural workers literally feared for their lives.

Bibliography

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Theresa A. Lock, Kintbury, October 17^th, 2020.

How violence at a football match led to accusations of witchcraft

If the events of 1598 are anything to go by, football violence is nothing new!

One of the oldest monuments in St Mary’s church, Kintbury is a brass situated to the right of the altar commemorating John and Alice Gunter. John died in 1598 and according to the inscription on the brass, there is a similar monument in Sisister ( the old name for Cirencester in Gloucestershire ) where Alice died.

For all we know, John and Alice lived a quiet life when they were in Kintbury. However, the same cannot be said for other family members who achieved a certain notoriety during their lifetime.

Anne Gunter, the youngest child of Brian Gunter, had been baptised in Hungerford in 1584. By 1598, Brian was lay rector at North Moreton, in the Vale of the White Horse.

There are several versions of what happened next but the main events of the story go something like this:

Some time in 1598, a football match was held in North Moreton. Back then, the sport did not enjoy the rules or regulations that we have today – a match could involve any number of people and take place over a very wide area, not a specified pitch. However, one aspect we are still familiar with today was the occasional outbreak of associated violence. It seems that, during the game, two brothers, John and Richard Gregory, along with Brian Gunter’s son, William, were involved in some sort of fight. Brian Gunter intervened, hitting Richard and John with the pommel of a dagger. As a result of the injuries caused by this, both brothers died.

Not surprisingly, the deaths of the brothers resulted in animosity between the Gregory and Gunter families. When Anne Gunter became ill in 1604 and then again the following year, Brian Gunter tried to blame Elizabeth Gregory along with Agnes Pepwell and her daughter Mary for causing Anne’s illness. This was, of course, at a time when many people believed in witches and witchcraft and it was not uncommon for certain women to be blamed when unexplained illnesses or deaths occurred in a village.

The wide range of symptoms which Anne was experiencing, including vomiting and fits, Brian Gunter maintained, were the result of her being bewitched. It is more likely, however, that these symptoms were the result of the toxic mixture including wine and salad oil which he had made his daughter drink.

Elizabeth Gregory and Mary Pepwell were tried for witchcraft at Abingdon in 1605. They were found not guilty.

Brian Gunter was not happy with this verdict and managed to take his grievance to the king, James I. James referred the case to the Archbishop of Canterbury who in turn referred it to Samuel Harsnett, an Anglican cleric who was later to become the Archbishop of York and someone known to be skeptical about the popular belief in witchcraft. The case was eventually heard in the Star Chamber, a court of appeal that sat in the Palace of Westminster.

When she was cross questioned, Anne admitted that her illness had been faked and that her father had persuaded her to play out the deception. It is thought that she was eventually acquitted since she had been coerced into cooperating with her father’s plot to discredit the Gregory family.

It is possible that Harsnett and other members of the church became involved in this case, taking it to the higher court, as they wanted to see an end to those profiting from exorcisms in which non existing “daemons” were “driven out” of gullible victims.