SOME PUBS WITH A STORY TO TELL - East Yorkshire

 

The  Eagle  and  Child

 

 

 

The village pub at Auckley near Doncaster  was originally called ‘The Bird and Bastard’ so the name has been somewhat modified.  It all derives from a 14^th century legend surrounding the local squire, Sir Thomas Latham, who is said to have seduced a servant girl in his employ who gave birth to a son.   To cover up his misdeeds, Latham arranged for the child to be abandoned near a tree wherein nested a bird of prey.   Because he actually wanted a son and heir, he then ‘ found ‘ the child and adopted it.

 

 

 

 

Jemmy Hirst at the Rose & Crown

 

Formerly The Neptune Inn, this strangely named pub at Rawcliffe near Goole remind us of eccentric local man, Jemmy Hirst, who  planned his own funeral and for some reason he stipulated that his coffin was to be borne by eight old maids who would receive one guinea each. When he died in October 1829 at the age of 91 years, it was in fact eight widows who performed that last service and they were paid half a crown each. In accordance with Jeremy’s wishes, the Mayor of Rawcliffe declared the funeral day a public holiday and as the glass-domed coffin was carried to the churchyard, a piper from Aberdeen and a fiddler, each hired by Jeremy on payment of £5, preceded it. A great procession of his racing friends and acquaintances marched to lively music and the event was followed that night by a firework display.

Jemmy or James to give him his correct name, was indeed an eccentric of the first order. He was born on a farm at Rawcliffe and had a great love of animals which he liked to train and it was said that a hedgehog and an otter followed him to school. Later in life he trained a young bull – Jupiter as Jemmy called it – as a horse, riding it to market and even hunting to hounds with it. When his father died Jemmy inherited nearly £1000 and, after shrewd investment, he became a rich man. He built a wickerwork carriage with very high wheels and a top shaped like a chinaman’s hat, and of course it was pulled by Jupiter. Off he went to Doncaster Races followed by two foxes he had tamed, where he was as popular as he was colourful with harlequin breeches, yellow boots, red coat and huge hat said to be three yards in circumference. For betting he used his own bank notes to the value of five pence ha’penny. Later he attached sails and a bed to his strange carriage and replaced the bull with four mules.

Jeremy had of course carefully planned his funeral. His coffin, made to his own design, was equipped with a bell (in case he need to call anybody from his grave),  had folding glass doors and it stood in his dining room instead of a sideboard and served as a bar for his favourite tipple – brandy. After imbibing, his friends would be invited to try the coffin for size and were only released on payment of a fee, a penny from the men and from the women – a garter, which would be used as embellishment. His generosity knew no bounds and he was called the ‘King of Rawcliffe’.
He married the lady who had been his housekeeper for a number of years and he wore a toga for the occasion, insisting that the ceremony be conducted in sign language.

He was a great practical joker and lived in a strange house where each of the four walls had a door to confuse visitors and some inside doors led only to a blank wall or gruesome painting. The windows were of different sizes and were curtained with newspaper and a variety of staircases led nowhere,
Apparently because of his famed oddity, King George 111 invited Jeremy to Court and he travelled to London in his wickerwork carriage. Jeremy was not greatly impressed with the capital or with Court etiquette, but he did invite the King to visit Rawcliffe and promised him ‘as much good brandy as tha can sup.’

Jeremy was mostly remembered for his generosity and his great love of practical jokes.  Strangely enough, there is no known grave for Jemmy. It is thought that he may have been buried with his parents.

 

Photograph © Copyright Gordon Kneale Brooke and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

I am grateful to Gordon for the use of his Geograph photograph.

 

 

The Swordsman

 

One date in history which readily springs to mind is 1066, that momentous year which changed the face of our country.  Indeed it was a momentous year for Saxon King Harold – he who was supposedly shot by an arrow in the eye at the Battle of Hastings.  What is not so well remembered is that Harold had marched his troops some 250 miles from Stamford Bridge near York after defeating the Norwegians there, to engage the Normans in his final battle.

The Swordsman Inn, situated alongside the bridge over the River Derwent at Stamford Bridge, reminds us of a heroic event which turned the battle of 1066 in Harold’s favour.   It was vital that Harold’s troops should cross the river but the only way across was by way of a narrow wooden bridge which was blocked by a huge Norwegian warrior who managed to slay all the soldiers who tried to dislodge him.   Apparently the day was saved by a brave young soldier who floated under the bridge in a tub and managed to stab the warrior through a gap in the wooden bridge.   Thus the way was clear and the victorious Saxon army stormed across.

Until 1878, a Spear Pie Festival was held annually in the village with the traditional pie being boat shaped and filled with pears.   The festival was temporarily revived in 1966 to commemorate the 900^th anniversary of the battle, but is alas now only a memory.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The  Londesborough  Arms

 

 

A huge armchair can be seen in this fine hostelry at Market Weighton in East Yorkshire, together with a portrait of its former owner,  William Bradley, the Yorkshire Giant! 

 

 

A memorial plaque on a fine Georgian house not far away, depicts a large footprint, that of ‘The tallest Englishman ever recorded who lived in this house.’   William Bradley  was born at Market Weighton on 10^th February 1787, one of 13 children and grew to be 7ft 9ins tall and weighed 27 stones. One of his shoes, 15ins long and 51/2ins wide, can be seen in Hull museum.

 

The Yorkshire Giant travelled the country exhibiting himself at fairs and shows and it cost 1/- to see him, quite a considerable amount in those early days of the 19^th century.   Apparently King George 111 was quite taken with him and presented him with a gold watch chain.

Bradley died at Market Weighton on 30^th May 1820 at the age of 33 years.  His coffin measured 9ft x 3ft.  He was buried at 5-o-clock in the morning of 3^rd June 1820, to avoid onlookers, originally in the churchyard, but in 1872 his remains were exhumed and reburied inside All Saints Church at Market Weighton, where a memorial tablet can be seen.

William Bradley is still recorded in the Guinness Book of Records as the tallest ever British person.   A fund has been started in recent years to raise money for a statue of the great man to be erected in his home town.

 

 

The Falling Stone

 

The Falling Stone Inn at Thwing recalls and unusual incident which occurred in 1795.

On a Sunday in December of that year, a stone weighing 56 pounds fell from the atmosphere and hit the earth a few hundred yards from Wold Cottage just on the outskirts of the nearby village of Wold Newton in East Yorkshire. It caused an indenture about a yard across and 19 inches deep.

The meteorite is now preserved in the Natural History Museum in London.

A stone pillar marks the exact spot and an inscription tells the story:

‘Here on this spot

December 13^th 1795, fell from the atmosphere

An extraordinary stone!

In breadth 28 inches. In length 30 inches.

And the weight of which was fifty-six pounds!

This column erected by

Edward Topham

1799 ’

 

 

 

 

 

Ye  Olde  White  Heart

 

 

A panel in the so called Plotting Room at Ye Olde White Harte pub in Silver Street, in Hull,  East Yorkshire,   tells of the events of 23rd April, 1642 :

‘ Whilst Sir John Hotham, the Governor of Hull, was giving a dinner party he received an intimation from the King that His Majesty, who was then only four miles from the town, deigned to dine with him that day.   The Governor, filled with surprise at the unexpected news, retired to his private room (since called The Plotting Room) and sent for Alderman Pelham, the M.P for the Borough.   It was then resolved to close the gates against the King and his followers and a message was dispatched to his Majesty informing him of the decision.   The soldiers were called to arms, the bridge drawn up, the gates closed and the inhabitants confined to their houses.  About 11 o’clock the King appeared at Beverley Gate but the Governor refused to allow him to enter the walls.  The King then called upon the Mayor but that official fell upon his knees and swore that he could not assist as the gates were guarded by soldiers.  Whereupon the King, after much strong discussion and proclaiming Hotham a traitor, withdrew to Beverley.’

 

The preserved foundations of Beverley Gate in the heart of the bustling shopping center bear a plaque which testifies to this first overt act of The Civil War on St. George’s Day in 1642.

 

 

 The  Green  Dragon

 

 

At The Green Dragon Inn at Welton near Hull in East Yorkshire, now a quiet country pub, stories of the legendary Dick Turpin abound, for this was the scene of his arrest in 1739.   Turpin was nothing like the romantic character portrayed by Harrison Ainsworth in his novel Rookwood.   He was actually born at Bluebell Inn at Hempstead in Essex and ended his days on the gibbet at York Knavesmire on April 17th 1739.    Turpin was a cattle and horse thief turned highwayman and was actually detained at The Green Dragon on a charge of poaching.   He gave the name John Palmer to avoid recognition but made the mistake of writing to his brother whilst in custody and a former schoolmaster recognized his writing.  It seems strange that Turpin could read and write, but apparently it proved to be his undoing because he was duly identified, tried and hanged at  York Knavesmire.  He was just 34 years of age.   It is said that Turpin engaged five indigent men to follow his cart to the gallows and these ‘mourners’ were each paid the sum of 10/-.

Dick Turpin was reputedly buried in the graveyard of St. Georges Church in George Street, York, where a renovated gravestone reads :

‘ John Palmer,  otherwise Richard Turpin.

   The notorious highwayman and horse stealer,

Executed at Tyburn,  April 17th, 1739

and buried in St. Georges churchyard. ‘

Although Tyburn was in fact the London gallows it was also a generic term for any gallows.  

The Bluebell Inn, Hempstead, Turpin's birthplace.

 

SOME PUBS WITH A STORY TO TELL - North Yorkshire 3

 

 

The  Saltersgate  Inn

 

 

 

 

 

It is reputed that the peat fire in the bar of  The Saltersgate Inn has burned for more than 200 years without being extinguished.   There is certainly an abundance of peat to keep it burning, for this remote hostelry stands alongside the A169 road over the North York Moors between Pickering and Whitby.   The pub, which was built in 1648 at a meeting point of ancient pack horse routes over the moors, was originally called the Wagon and Horses and soon became the haunt of packhorse men carrying fish and salt over the moors from the coast.   Salt was an important commodity needed for preserving fish and pork, and was heavily taxed.  It follows that such a product and indeed other taxed goods were smuggled and it is said that the inn was used as a staging post for this activity. 

 

 

 

 

 

Apparently a lantern was left burning in a small window high in the bar as a warning when excise men were on the prowl.  

 

 

 

 

The story goes that a murdered excise man was buried under the hearth and that the fire has been kept burning, either to prevent discovery, or to prevent his spirit from escaping.

 

 

 

 

The  Blacksmith’s  Arms

 

The Blacksmith’s Arms  at Lastingham on the edge of the North York Moors near Pickering, retains the fixtures and fittings of a former age with real fires and real ales.

In 1774 the Curate of Lastingham church, the Rev. Jeremiah Carter, was also the landlord of the inn situated alongside the church.   When interviewed by his superior about why he kept an inn, the Rev. Carter gave the following explanation :

‘ I have a wife and thirteen children and with a stipend of £20 per annum,

increased by a few trifling surplice fees, I will not impose on your understanding by attempting to advance an argument to show the impossibility of us all being supported from my church preferment!  

My wife keeps the public house and as my parish is so wide that some of my parishioners have to come 10 to 15 miles to church,you will readily allow that some refreshment be necessary!   I take down my violin and play them a few tunes, which gives me the opportunity of seeing that they get no more liquor than necessary for refreshment;  and if some of the young people propose to dance, I seldom answer in the negative.   Thus my parishioners enjoy the triple advantage of being instructed, fed and amused at the same time.’

He went on to maintain that more people were led into piety that way than  ‘ by the most exalted discourses.’    Apparently the Rev. gentleman was complemented on his work by the archdeacon.

There has been a church at Lastingham since the 7^th century when St Cedd first built a monastery there and indeed the present church is believed to be his shrine.  In 1078, Abbot Stephen of Whitby Abbey began to rebuild Cedd’s monastery but abandoned the idea, leaving the legacy which is the main part of the church today.  Stephen’s crypt,  is a little church in itself, has remained unchanged, and is a sight to behold.

 

 

 

The  Star  Inn

 

Harome near Helmsley in North Yorkshire is one of the few villages in Yorkshire which maintains a number of thatched roofed houses and the village inn,  The Star  is no exception.   The history of this unspoilt inn stretches back more then 300 years and is worth a visit in its own right, but in addition it possesses a very fine curiosity – its bar.   The very fine oak bar was the work of the famous  mouseman,  Robert Thompson, who was born in Kilburn, at the other side of Helmsley,  in 1886 and followed his father into the trade of wheelwright.   Robert was very fond of carving wood and loved English oak – ‘ No other wood has the same character as oak, and this is the medium with which I can express my feelings,’ he is quoted as saying to a monk at nearby Ampleforth Abbey who had recognised the young man’s skill.    Robert was commissioned for work at the Abbey and soon developed an interest in carving church furniture, although it was not such lucrative work at that time.   One day he thought of the expression ‘poor as a church mouse’ and had the idea to carve a mouse on his work.

 

 

 

 

 

Since that time the little mouse has appeared on all Thompson furniture and carvings and is renowned in churches and homes throughout the country.    Many examples can be seen in churches everywhere, notably in York Minster and in Westminster Abbey.   Just look for the little mouse.   Robert Thompson died in 1955 aged 79 years and his half timbered cottage still stands in Kilburn close to the modern workshops where the Thompson family tradition is carried on by his family.   A visit to the workshops and showrooms is an enlightening experience and the mouse can be seen in action on most of the furniture in Kilburn church, as well as on the bar at The Star.

 

 

 

 

 

The  Caley  Arms

 

The Caley family of Brompton-by-Sawdon, near Scarborough in North Yorkshire, lived at Brompton Hall from Stuart times and although the old hall is now a school the name still lives on in the name of the village inn,  The Caley Arms.’

 

Sir George Caley  ( 1773 – 1857 ) has been described as  The  Father  of  Aviation  and with good cause.   It is a little known fact that the world’s first aeroplane flight took place in Brompton Dale in the mid 19^th century, and the plaudits go to Sir George, who had discovered that the old idea of flapping wings was of no use at all.  He decided that there must be a flat plane which depended on wind pressure and the angle of the plane’s surface, and his subsequent design boasted all the refinements of the modern aeroplane with the exception of wing flaps.   His prototype was tested by his protesting coachman when he reluctantly piloted the craft in 1852 and he is quoted as having said, ‘ Please Sir George, I wish to give notice.  I was hired to drive, not to fly.’   Sir George later designed a wheeled undercarriage and the first moveable tail.

A plaque on the wall of his workshop at Brompton Hall recalls this visionary pioneer.

Another proud memory of this little village is of the marriage of the poet William Wordsworth and Mary Hutchinson, at All Saints church in 1802.   Mary, ‘The perfect woman, nobly planned,’  lived at Gallows Hill Farm in the village.

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

The Roman Bath

 

 

 

The Welcome to Yorkshire web site (yorkshire.com) tells us :

 

An excellent location to enjoy good food,ale and live music, plus a Roman Bathhouse in the basement! One of the City's oldest attractions, step underground to see the remains of Roman York or Eboracum as it was then known. Discover what life was like for the soldiers who lived and worked here and why a visit to the Baths was so important!

n 1930 renovations to a tavern on St Sampson's Square in York, revealed the remains of a caldarium, or steam bath, from the Roman city of Eboracum. The Caldarium, and a neighbouring plunge bath, have been excavated, and visitors can now see the place where Roman soldiers and citizens came to find relaxation.

The small museum is below ground, accessed through the Roman Bath pub, and shows remains of the baths with Roman artefacts and replica articles of everyday life. There are fascinating - and often humorous - facts and figures about Roman life in York scattered about the museum on placards, and visitors can view armour, weapons, and Roman tiles up close.

You can view tiles found on the site, some of which clearly show the signs of nails from the sandals of Romans who had trodden upon them before the tile had hardened after being made. Tiles appear to show the seal of the 9th Roman legion, who founded the city of Eboracum in 71 AD.

 

 

SOME PUBS WITH A STORY TO TELL - North Yorkshire 2

 

 

The  Busby  Stoop

 

 

 

The Busby Stoop  an old coaching inn situated at the cross roads junction of the A61 and the A167 at Carlton Miniott near Thirsk in North Yorkshire was also the scene of a hanging early in the 18th century as a replica gibbet outside the inn testifies.

 

 

Local man, Thomas Busby married local girl, Elizabeth Auty - nothing strange in that except that Elizabeth was from a wealthy family and her father had unsuccessfully opposed the marriage because he knew that Busby was a drunkard and ne’er do well.   The story goes that Busby had a nice wooden armchair made for himself and one day he returned home to find his father in law sitting in the chair and an argument ensued.  Later on Busby got drunk and went to Auty’s house where a further argument took place with the result that Busby strangled Auty.   Busby was subsequently hanged on gallows erected outside his local pub. Before he died, it is said that Busby put a curse on the chair.

The name of the inn was changed to The Busby Stoop and the landlord acquired Busby’s chair which stood in the bar for many years.   The chair acquired a sinister reputation and people would sit in it for a dare.   It is said that four people died from accidents after sitting in the chair and during the second world war, many airmen who had sat in the chair failed to return from bombing raids.

Busby’s chair is now an exhibit in the museum at Thirsk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The  Mother  Shipton  Inn

 

 

 

‘ Near this Petrifying Well I first drew breath, as records tell.’  These words, together with the portrait of an ugly woman, signify The Mother Shipton Inn,  which stands at the entrance to the Nidd Gorge at Knaresborough in North Yorkshire.   Legendary sorceress and soothsayer,  Old Mother Shipton,  was born in a  nearby cave  in 1488 and died in 1561 when she was 73 years old.   Close to the cave on the banks of the River Nidd  is the ancient dropping Well whose waters have mystical powers of turning everyday articles to stone.

 

Born Ursula Southill, she married York builder Tobias Shipton when she was 24.   ‘She was very morose, big boned; her head was long with great goggling, sharp and fiery eyes; her nose of an incredible and unproportionate  length, having in it many crooks and turnings and adorned with many strange purples and diverse colours, which like vapours of brimstone gas, gave such a lustre in the dead of night.’  So said a contemporary writer who went on to say, ‘ She had in addition a chin of the nutcracker order,  yellow skin shrivelled and wrinkled, with one solitary big tooth standing out of her mouth like a tusk.  Her neck was so distorted that her right shoulder supported her head, her legs crooked, with feet and toes turned towards her left side so that when she walked to the right it seemed as if she were travelling to the left.’     That may be so, but her understanding was extraordinary and her strange powers of prophesy became known throughout the land.  Over one hundred years after her death, Samuel Pepys had recorded in his diary that Mother Shipton had foretold the Great Fire of London.  Her predictions were widespread, she is said to have foretold of the Dissolution of the Monasteries, the defeat of the Armada, the Civil War, the Great Plague and so on.  ‘Carriages without horses shall go, and accidents fill the world with woe.  Around the world thoughts shall fly in the twinkling of an eye.  Iron in the water shall float as easy as a wooden boat.  Gold shall be found, and found in a land that’s not now known,’  is how some of her predictions are quoted.   In his Collection of Prophesies of 1645, astrologer W.Lilly quoted that sixteen of Mother Shipton’s predictions had been fulfilled. Many people thought she was a witch, especially Cardinal Wolsey whom she predicted would never be enthroned as Archbishop of York.  Wolsey apparently sent a message to tell her that when he did enter York, he would burn her as a witch.  Fortunately for her she was right.  Equally fortunate, one of her predictions did not come true – the end of the world in 1881!

 

 

 

 

 

It is possible to visit Old Mother Shipton’s Cave and the Petrifying Well.

 

 

 

 

Blind  Jack's

 

 

 

Blind Jack's is a relatively new pub which is situated in The Market Place at Knaresborough in North Yorkshire alongside a fine sculpture of the man in question.

John Metcalf was born into a poor family at Knaresborough in 1717 and at the age of six he lost his sight as a result of smallpox.   Never daunted, young Jack lived life to the full, he could climb trees, run, box, wrestle, ride and swim with the best and he married the prettiest girl in the area.   He became a fish merchant, learned to play the fiddle and he even fought at the Battle of Culloden.  He also ran a horse drawn taxi service and a pack horse service before his big break came.  Following the passing of an Act of Parliament which authorised the building of turnpike roads, Jack somehow managed to obtain the contract for such a road between Harrogate and Boroughbridge, which he completed successfully to be followed by several others and eventually he employed some 400 men.   It seemed that Jack had a nack, determined by instinct for his task, despite the obstacles, and the fame of Blind  Jack  spread. He died a rich man with some 180 miles of northern roads behind him, at the nearby village of Spofforth, when he was 93 years old and the epitaph on his gravestone in Spofforth churchyard tells his story :

‘ Here lies John Metcalf; one whose infant sight

Felt the dark pressure of an endless night.

Yet such the fervour of his dauntless mind

His limbs full strung, his spirit unconfin’d.

That long ere yet life’s bolder years began

His sightless efforts marked th’aspiring man.

Nor mark’d in vain.  High deed his manhood dar’d

And commerce, travel, both his ardour shard’d.

‘Twas his, a guide’s unerring aid to lend,

O’er trackless wastes to bid new roads extend,

And when rebellion reared her giant size

‘Twas his to burn with patriot enterprise,

For parting wife and babes one pang to feel,

Then welcome danger for his country’s weal.’

Reader! Like him exert thy utmost talent giv’n,

Reader! Like him adore the bounteous Hand of Heav’n!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Boar’s Head

 

A notice outside this village pub at Ripley in North Yorkshire reads:

‘ This building was formerly the star Inn, one of three pubs in the village. It was the breakfast stop for the Leeds to Edinburgh charabanc, and its final licensee was Frank Smailes,
the Yorkshire and England cricketer'.

Sir William Ingilby, who had been a priest before he inherited the castle, disapproved of people drinking on the Sabbath. In 1919 he ordered all three landlords to close for that day. Facing the loss of their most lucrative day’s trading, all thee departed and Ripley was ‘dry’ for 71 years until the Ingilby’s opened the Boar’s Head Hotel in 1990. Just to show how times have changed, the Vicar came in and blessed the pumps on the opening night.’

The boar's head is the symbol of the Ingilby family.

 

 

The  Sun  Inn

 

Travellers in Bilsdale on the North York Moors are quite pleased to see The Sun  Inn in this remote countryside, an ideal place to stop for refreshment.  This was a popular haunt at the turn of the 19^th century of Bobbie Dawson and his friends from the local Bilsdale Hunt.  When Bobbie died in 1902, his gravestone ended up in front of the pub, although it was originally intended for the churchyard grave where Bobbie is buried, but the vicar objected due to the fact that the stone is carved with a fox’s face and brush and a hunting crop surmounted by an old fashioned hunting horn.   So Bobbie’s friends put it outside his local pub where it has remained to this day.  The inscription reads :

‘ In memory of Bobbie Dawson,

Died June 17^th 1902.

Whip to Bilsdale Hunt for upwards of 60 years.

Also wicket keeper for Spout House Cricket Club for many years.

 

 

 Spout House, a ‘cruck’ built building with a thatched roof, built in 1570 , still stands alongside. Now fully restored, it was the inn until the Sun was built in 1914 to replace it, and has a very fine ‘inglenook’

 

The locals will tell you that it is thought that Bilsdale was named after William the Conqueror, he who decided to deal with the northerner’s who were  resisting his rule and it was in 1069 that William was passing through Bilsdale, which now carries the B1257 road between Helmsley and Cleveland.   Chroniclers tell us that ‘During the harrowing of the north in 1069, William passed through this wild region and made his way amid cold and ice of winter.  He kep hissen warm wi sweering.’    King Billy as he was known was noted for bad language which gives rise to a local saying, ‘Swearing like Billy Norman , or swearing like Billyo.