 Driffield 117 years ago |
DRIFFIELD AND WOLDS GENEALOGY |
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The following is a copy of a book written by Chas T. Holderness, journalist, of Driffield, in 1908. The title, Driffield 117 years ago (and after) obviously refers to Driffield 117 years prior to 1908
Some Driffield Incidents 117 Years Ago(And After). PREFACE The matter of the following little work appeared originally in a series of articles in the “Driffield Observer” between October and November 30th, 1907. The issue of the articles in book form is at the request of many readers who were kind enough to say they were sufficiently interested in the articles to wish to possess them in a form more permanent than the pages of a newspaper; and who, unsolicited, subscribes for a sufficient number of copies to pay the costs of reprinting. The author is fully aware that these hastily written newspaper articles, with their many reiterations of facts and circumstances necessary in a series of articles published at intervals of a week, have no literary merit and such is not claimed for them. The subject matter alone makes it desirable that the articles should be preserved. The present little book is not put forward as a history of Driffield. It is merely a record of the lives and works of a group of men – and later of their descendants – held up to public ridicule in a silly skit passed from hand to hand in Driffield in 1790. Much that is recorded in the following pages is not to be found in “Ross’ History of Driffield,” and is now for the first time put on permanent record. This is not before time, because the men and women who can tell of the past of Driffield during the last century or so are one by one dropping out of the race. Driffield, Jan. 29, 1908[Reprinted from the Driffield Observer] SOME DRIFFIELD INCIDENTS 117 YEARS AGO (AND AFTER) The following curious skit on the people of Driffield of 117 years ago and their effort to improve the postal service was found by Mr William Scotchburn, J.P., among some old family papers, and was given by him to me for publication: A CURIOUS DIALOGUE A gentleman who was on travel, happening to be at Great Driffield, on Tuesday evening, the 3rd of August, on seeing a person carried home upon the back of another man, said to an Inhabitant (who stood nearby), “God bless me, hath some accident happened? Is that poor man dead?” Inhabitant: No, sir, yon’s Billy Conyers, our lawyer, he’s carried home that way every night of his life. Traveller: Indeed, so early as this too? In: Generally pretty soon, but this is a grand day sir, you must know. Tr: Why? In: O sir, we shall soon have a fine town now; we’ve got a general post, and Sir Christopher Sykes is getting his dinner with a deal of town folks at Blue Bell Tr: Then I suppose Sir Christopher lives in the neighbourhood. In: Yes, sir; Sir Christopher had several miles to send every post day for letters, and so, being a minister man like, he thought they might come to his house (to spare him trouble, you see), instead of sending to Malton, and so a deal of our folks, thof no better stall, thought they’d flatter him, and so wou’d make a dinner, and ask Sir Christopher to bear them company I fancy, and this i’st day. Tr: And is Sir Christopher here himself, do you say? Pray, what gentlemen are there in this town or neighbourhood proper companions for him? In: Nay, for that matter – to be sure, there’s one gentleman – Parson Watts, of Pockthorpe. They say, sir, he’s finest cook in these parts, for he cooked them a fine dish called Sham Tur – Tur- somat or other. Tr: Mock Turtle, you mean, perhaps. In: Ay, ay, that’s it. He went to Robin Cotton’s, butcher, and bought a cof’s head by’t shoulders away, skin and all on, to make this fine dish. Tr: Very good; but are there no other gentlemen? In: I know not for gentlemen, nor I; butcher Robin’s there, and that poor drunken thing you seed carried home, has been there, and two or three L – rs, and two or three shopkeepers, and Willy Porter, and two or three of his sons are there (Willy was’th landlord at Blue Bell) and there’s our Baker Holland and our Miller Dicking, and little nazzling Boyes, and our Currier, and our Wright, and our Chandler Jarratt, as proud as any of them. Tr: But pray, have you no neighbouring gentlemen, nor any good farmers? You’ve mentioned none of these yet. In: No, no, sir, I know no more; except Doctor Dobson, and may be Barber Bannister; as for Mr Drinkrow, and Mr Gray, and such as have estates, they know better than to come near them. Tr: Sir Christopher is, indeed, condescending to keep such company. In: As to the matter of that sir, what can we expect. I warrant you there will be strange deed when they call for’t reckoning. (They here parted, bidding good night) The next morning the gentlemen met with his old friend again, who accosted him as follows: I told you there would be strange deed when reckoning came to be paid. What do you think, sir? Tr: Indeed, I can’t tell what to think about it. In: Why sir, it came to hof a guinea a man, and thof a deal of ‘em was for Sir Christiopher at Beverley Lection, but without either vote or interest in mind ye, Sir Christopher did not pay a farthing. Ecod, sir, most of them had never spent hof a guinea in their lives before, and when they came to potter out, they looked very grave, (being damnably disappointed), shook their heads and said – They ne’er would dea the like again! NOTES BY CHAS. T. HOLDERNESS The foregoing skit, written 117 years ago, is interesting in more ways than one; and least interesting from the point of view from which it was written, that of heaping ridicule upon a party opposed to the views of the writer. Who the writer was has not come down with his work; but evidently he was one of the non-Progressives of his day, for his whole effort is concentrated on ridiculing those who were having a little festivity to celebrate an improvement in the postal service, and from the way in which he speaks of Mr Drinkrow and Mr Gray, the former of whom had previously had something to do with postal matters, as standing aloof, leads me to think that the skit was written in their interest, probably to serve some spiteful end or satisfy some personal animosity or imagined injury. Be that as it may, the skit is particularly interesting as giving a picture of the men and manners of Driffield at the end of he 18th century, and if the picture is correct – let us hope that it is a little over-drawn – we have certainly progresses in our social life and habits since then. In later years, for instance, we may have had lawyers whose reputations were rather shady, but we have had none who habitually drank their cups so deep that they had to be carried home nightly “upon the back of another man.” DRIFFIELD IN 1790 The Driffield of 1790 was very different from the Driffield of to-day, and to reconstruct more particularly that portion referred to in the skit – the Market-place – we find a square surrounded by two-storied houses and in some cases by thatched cottages with simple lofts under the thatch. The Bell, the scene of the dinner, at that date was called the Blue Bell, and was a two-storied building with low-ceiled rooms and a white-washed front. Where is now the front door was then an archway, through which coaches, chaises and carriers’ wagons drove into the yard behind. Where stands Mr Elgey’s shop, on the North side, was a farmhouse, and on the opposite side of the Market-place to the Bell was a long thatched house, extending from what is now the London Inn to the shop in the corner next the Keys Hotel. Where this shop now stands was a roadway through to Cross Hill, where then stood the parish poor-house and the pillory. The Keys was then a mean little building, as indeed were all the houses and shops in the neighbourhood. At the corner of the Market-place, opposite Mr Elgey’s, stood a large elm tree, under the shade of which the ancient market was revived, and where Messrs Lance and Co’s fine premises now stand, stood three yellow-washed cottages – at least they were yellow-washed at a later date. They projected so far into the street that it was with difficulty two vehicles could pass on the highway in front of them. The buildings were so low that a tall man could nearly look into the windows of the loft, which did for a sleeping place over the living rooms. It was through this narrow opening that what is now Middle Street North was reached, and this was then the principal part of the town with its posting houses and Hunt Room. In Middle Street South the houses did not extend far in a continuous line. The local “aristocracy” then lived in Westagate and Bridge Street. The canal had then been opened eighteen years, and houses were springing up round about River Head. The population of the town at the time of which I am writing, was about 900. At the time of the first census, in 1801, eleven years later, it had increased to 1, 329. EARLY POSTAL SERVICE Our skit deals principally with the postal service, and thus it may not be uninteresting to recall a few facts in connection with the early days of the post office in Driffield, and I may at once say that the first post office in Driffield was at the long thatched house opposite the Bell, of which I have already written, and there it was opened in 1772. The first postmaster was Mr Etherington, who held the office for 50 years. The thatched house belonged to Mr Langley, the Lord of the Manor, and it was pulled down in 1799, and the Market-place widened at the west side. Previous to 1772, letters, which were very expensive things to receive, the postage, which had to be paid by the receiver of the letter, frequently amounting to a shilling or more, reached Driffield by a very irregular route, and I should fancy at very irregular times. The first post to Driffield went from Hull to Beverley and then to York and thence to Kilham, then a Market town. There was no regular post from Kilham to Driffield, and those letters, which were not fetched from Kilham, were delivered in Driffield once a fortnight by an old woman who rode on an ass, and subsequently by a man named Gardner, who used to drive across the Wolds with a pony and trap from Scarborough to Driffield. From Driffield the letters were taken on to Beverley by another old man with a pony and trap and Gardner waited at Driffield for his return to take the mail from the south back to Scarborough. The postal regulations of the time required that there should be a revenue of at least £40 per year from a post office. If not the inhabitants were required to make up the deficiency, and some one was required to enter into a bond with the Post-master General. Henry Drinkrow, the younger, entered into a bond for the establishment of the post office at Driffield in 1772. The bond points out that Driffield is a good market town and the business carried on daily increasing, but was greatly cramped and delayed for want of a post by way of Beverley and Hull, to which towns there was a good turnpike road. Although the post office was established, the request was not complied with in its entirety, for letters from the south were continued to be sent round by York and were brought from Malton three days a week, arriving at Driffield at eight o’clock on Monday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings, and returning at two o’clock on the afternoon of Monday, Thursday and Sunday. For the increasing trade of the town this three days a week post was found to be insufficient and the merchants and traders who had settled in the town agitated for a daily post, and they appear to have enlisted the services of Sir Christopher Sykes. Why they did so is not known, but from the old skit I should imagine, in so doing, they offended Mr Drinkrow and Mr Gray, who seem to have climbed up into the small branches of their ancestral trees, and from there watched with what they doubtless considered a lofty and becoming contempt, the efforts of “mere tradespeople” to increase the commercial prosperity of the town. The tradespeople had doubtless been shrewd enough to see that Sir Christopher was a more powerful lever with which to work the Postmaster General than Messrs Drinkrow and Gray could possibly be, hence the trouble. The effort made by Sir Christopher was successful in the establishment of a daily post. The letters were still sent round by York and were brought from Malton to Driffield by a man named Robert Linsley, who rode on horseback. He was best known by the sobriquet “Post Bob,” and his son, who succeeded him in the office of riding post, was known as “Post Tom.” Bob was met at Sledmere by another riding postman, who took letters on to Bridlington. Sir Christopher thus had his letters brought to Sledmere every day of the week instead of having to send to Malton for them on three days each week. The introduction of the mail coaches and the further development of the post office, interesting chapters as they are in our local history, form no part of the present subject, my object merely being to draw a picture of our town as it was in 1790 and to reanimate and give local habitations to some of the men whose names appear in the curious old skit, which would be copied and re-copied and handed round our grandfathers and great grandfathers. The first name that appears is that of “BILLY” CONYERS, who comes upon the scene in anything but a dignified style; correctly, he can scarcely be said to come “on” the scene, for he is being carried off in a state which at that time of day was termed “gloriously drunk.” He was the grandfather of the late Edmund Dade Conyers, solicitor, County Coroner, and first Captain of the Driffield Rifle Volunteers, whose estate, after his death, paid a first and final dividend of one penny in the pound. He was one of the two first solicitors to establish themselves in the town, he and Mr Thomas Cator, coming from Malton. Previous to that the legal business of the people of Driffield was done by “Lawyer” Pricketts, of Kilham, the ancestor of the Pricketts, of Bridlington, who visited Driffield once a week on horseback, with his saddlebags and pockets filled with papers, parchments, and documents. His horse had trappings of white untanned leather. Where “Billy” Conyers lived I do not know, but Mr Cator, who married into the Drinkrow family, I think built and lived in the house occupied by Mr Geo. Leason, in Middle Street South, and he was succeeded there by a solicitor named Robert Boulton. The writer of the skit, although he could mention “Billy” Conyers by name, seems to have had a wholesome dread of he other “two or three L – rs,” for he does not even dare to spell “lawyer” out in full. Who were these other two or three? Driffield must then have had at least four lawyers. I find that in 1823 – 33 years later – Driffield had five lawyers or attorneys – John Botterill who lived in Middle Street; Robert Boulton, who also lived in Middle Street; John Foster, Burlington Road; Richard Jennings, Middle Street; and Thomas Scotchburn, Burlington Street (in the premises now occupied by Messrs Foster, Tonge and Botterill, solicitors). Mr Jennings lived in the house, now converted into the shops, occupied by Messrs Stather Bros and Mr T.W. Stabler. He was the uncle of the late Mr J.M. Jennings. DR DOBSON The Doctor Dobson mentioned was a celebrated man in his way, and of whom some droll stories are told. He would be of the same family, which later members were Frank Dobson, silversmith, of the Market Place; John Dobson, saddler, also of the Market Place; and Robert Dobson, cooper, of Middle Street South (who occupied the shop lately occupied by Mr C. Stephenson and now pulled down) all of whom are now dead. Although at one time an extensive family in the town, it is now practically extinct so far as Driffield is concerned. But to return to Dr Dobson. It was he, I have been told, who got opodeldoc included in the British Pharmacopoeia, but of this statement there is some doubt. Opodeldoc was originally called “Steer’s Opodeldoc.” Dr Steer lived where the Rev W.R. Sharrock now lives, in Eastgate South, his house standing behind a new part built in front of it by the late Mr Geo. Hodgson, solicitor, about 50 years ago. Mr Shepherdson, J.P. tells me that Dr Steer grew the herbs for his opodeldoc in the grounds round about the house. At that time Downe Street was not made. Probably Dr Steer invented the new compound, and Dobson pushed it into the Pharmacopoeia. This house was afterwards occupied by Dr Washington Harrison,* a connection of the first President of the United States. Dr Dobson was originally in practice at Kilham, and removed to Driffield when Kilham began to decline at the cutting of the canal to Driffield. Of course he lived long before the introduction of chloroform or any other anaesthetic, and before the days of antiseptic dressings, yet he performed many marvellous operations. Of him it is related that he was called in to a farmer, at Nafferton, who had ripped open his abdomen with a hay-knife in falling from a haystack. There was a terrible gash, through which the bowels were protruding. The doctor cleaned the wound as best he could with the means at his disposal, and then sewed the man up. All went on well for a time, but shortly afterwards there was a terrible irritation in the sewn-up wound. This went on for a time, when the doctor determined to re-open the wound. This he did, when he found, as he had expected to do, a few hay seeds left in it. He again cleaned the wound and sewed up the man once more and he thoroughly recovered. When the bill went in at Christmas, if was for £40. “What!” exclaimed the farmer, “Forty pounds for sewing a chap up! If ah’d known it was gine ti cost all that, me guts mud hev gung out for iver.” Another story of this 18th century medico that has come down relates to a circumstance that took place at the Bell. Where fun then, uncurbed by strict licensing laws, went fast and furious, and men who could stand it, drank night and day for a week together. It was rather late one night when the doctor descended into the midst of a convivial party. He was carrying a paper-covered parcel under his arm. Fun soon led to horse play and the doctor was belabouring his friends with his parcel. They were facetiously chaffing him about having a leg of mutton wrapped up which he was taking home to have roasted for his supper, when the paper burst and out flew a naked human leg among the glasses upon the table! That, it is related, closed the proceedings for that night. The leg had belonged to a man at Garton, where Dr Dobson had amputated it just before going to the Bell. He was bringing it home for dissection. Dr Dobson lived in part of what is now the shop of Messrs John Robsinson & Sons, grocers, in the Market Place – a most interesting old house. In Dr Dobson’s time it probably had no shop window in it. It was originally a dwelling house with a window on each side of the door, and probably at first had a thatched roof. Dr Dobson lived in the end next to what is now Beckett’s Bank. About 110 years ago Mr John Robinson and Sons, began business as a grocer and tallow chandler in these premises. At first he had the sitting-room at the south end of the building converted into a double fronted shop, and afterwards similar windows were put in at the other end, the original front door of the house being left between the two shops. Whether the doctor lived here at the time Mr Robinson started business I have been unable to ascertain, but stories about him lingered in the house long after he was dead, and a stain upon a floor in a little attic – still visible – was declared by servants until quite recently to be blood, for which the Doctor, who was said to haunt the room, was somehow responsible. Perhaps it was there he deposited the amputated leg! Dr Dobson had for contemporaries, beside Dr Steer, Dr Cowart, who resided in a house which stood upon the ground now occupied by the house of Mr Lovel, butcher, Middle Street South; and Dr Johnson, who resided in Doctor-lane – now Queen-street – hence the name. THE FIRST POSTMASTER I have referred to Mr Etherington, the first postmaster of Driffield, who was appointed to that post in 1772. He was evidently a very remarkable man, and might fitly be described as a universal genius, and he seems also to have been a “universal provider.” He lived in a long low thatched house, occupying nearly the whole of the west side of the Market Place, but standing a little further forward than the present buildings. He was a member of the once powerful Etherington family of Driffield, probably one of the most important families connected with Driffield by birth of residence – from whom descended Sir Henry Etherington – a family whose history has yet to be written. Their last home in Driffield was the large house in Westgate, adjoining the Catholic Church. Interesting as it might prove, this, however, is not the place to write the history of the family, even had I the materials to do so, To return to Mr Etherington, who must have been a comparatively young man when appointed to the important post of postmaster of Driffield, then an enterprising village of some 700 or 800 inhabitants, for he held the office no less than 50 years. When he comes upon the scene of our local history he is busily employed in the long thatched house carrying on the business of a druggist, stationer and working printer, to which he added the keeping of a circulating library and, I believe, the making of clocks, to say nothing of his duties as postmaster. Whether he was the Etherington who made the clocks I cannot say, but only the other day I went into a house at Driffield, and there saw an old clock with a beautifully chased brass dial, ticking methodically along, just as I should imagine it did when the world was a century younger, and on its face was engraven “Jno. Etherington, Driffield,” in bold letters. From this multiplication of trades Etherington must have been a very busy man. When the thatched house was pulled down, in 1799, Mr Etherington had removed to a shop, which stood nearly on the site of Messrs Taylor and Son’s premises opposite the end of Exchange Street. In an old account book I have which belonged to some unknown Driffield joiner in business from 1777 to 1796 – the period covered by the book – the name of John Etherington appears several times, and in 1796 there are entries in the account against him; “making gold scale box, 1s” and “mounting large map.” Mr Edward Creaser, who was afterwards in business as a chemist is the shop now occupied by Mr A Scotchburn, at the corner of Exchange Street, was apprenticed with Mr Etherington in 1803, and he also worked as a printer at the hand press, which was then a most laborious job. Mr Creaser used to relate, I am told, how he worked at the historic election contest of 1807, when Milton, Lascelles and Wilberforce contested the two seats for the whole of the County of York. There was so much printing to be done that Creaser never had his clothes off for a fortnight during the thick of the contest. I should like to see the printer’s bill for that fortnight’s work. Whether Etherington was a druggist, or a printer, or a clock maker, “by trade,” I do not know, but to people with 20th century ideas, the mixture seems a curious one. Specimens of his printing that I have seen are beautiful examples of printing of a hundred years ago. If the clocks were his, they were also beautiful examples of the clock maker’s craft – and clock makers then-a-days did make clocks. As a druggist – whether he poisoned more than an average number of customers has not come down to later generations. At the time Etherington was in business in the Market Place, his “universal” shop would be overhung by the branches of the large elm tree which I have before said stood at the north-east corner of what is now the market-square. This tree was one of the elm trees planted at Driffield, Kirkburn, Wansford and other villages in the neighbourhood, known as “The Tree Towns,” to commemorate something now forgotten – possibly the Restoration of the Monarchy or the Landing of the Prince of Orange. Be that as it may, the very year that the post office at Driffield was established, 1772, John Wesley preached under this tree. This fact has been kept alive in local Methodist circles, and in John Wesley’s Journal, his visit to Driffield is thus recorded: “Tuesday, 23rd June, about 11, I preached at Driffield; the sun was extremely hot, but I was tolerably screened by a shady tree.” This tree, I believe, was blown down one stormy New Year’s Eve about 1800. THE FIRST CHURCH ORGAN Shortly after the date of which I am writing (1790), the farm house, which stood where Messrs Elgey’s premises now stand, at the corner of the Market Place, was turned into a shop. The shop was occupied by Mr George Sherwood “druggist and tea-dealer,” and he was there in 1823. He was the uncle of William Sherwood Seller, a character of a later date, who was in business as a druggist in the shop two doors south of Tiger Inn, in Middle Street South. It was George Sherwood who was the principal agitator for an organ for the Parish Church. Those who were not so enthusiastic on the matter said they could not understand why Mr Sherwood was so anxious to have an organ, that he did not know one tune from another. This aspersion on his knowledge of music brought Sherwood to his feet, with a bound, “What!” he exclaimed; “Not know one tune from another? Yes, I do; I know when they play God save the King, because the people stand up and take their hats off.” Then there was a laugh; and it is related that when Mr Sherwood realised how he had given himself away, he looked as though he would have liked to have kicked himself. “MR” GRAY The “Mr” Gray, who stood aloof with “Mr” Drinkrow, from those who were celebrating with a feast the introduction of the daily post to Driffield, lived in the house now occupied by Mrs Wrangham, at the Middle Street corner of Lockwood Street. The house was then very much lower in the upper story than at present, and the end rooms adjoining Lockwood Street have been added since that day in 1790 when Mr Gray “and such as have estates” gave so much pleasure to our old chronicler, by standing aloof from a popular movement to improve the commercial prosperity of the town. At that time Lockwood Street was not made, and there were but few houses in the neighbourhood. I think the “estates” of Mr Gray must have been more imaginary than real. He probably farmed a few fields of his own, which, in his day, would be considered a great thing for then wages were low, commodities were dear, and few people had money. The death of “Thomas Gray, gentleman” is recorded in the parish register on the 22nd February, 1798, as having taken place at Driffield. It was probably the man in question. There is also another entry in the parish register about this time: “Beth Boyes married Lois Gray, 6th August, 1793.” I have been told that two of the maiden daughters of “Mr” Gray lived and died in what is now No 1, Mill Street, the house next to Ash Lea. I should imagine that by that time, for some reason, the “estate” had parted company with the family. “BILLY” CONYERS In my old joiners book the name of “Mr William Conyers” appears under the date of 1777, for which year he paid his account. He seems to have regularly employed the joiner from then to 1786, when he had a child’s go-cart made for 7s. These later accounts are unsettled, and the go-cart seems to be still unpaid for. Perhaps Edmund Dade Conyers’ financial crash may have been the effect of pushing about that unpaid-for go-cart when an infant; or heredity may have been the cause. Had this fact of the go-cart been known about 45 years ago, those Driffield tradesmen who received a first and final dividend of one penny in the pound might have filled up the winter evenings discussing the pros and cons of the question. “MILLER DICKING” Who is referred to somewhat contemptuously, was Mr John Dickon, of King’s Mill, the grandfather or the great grandfather of Mr H.D. Marshall, who was the owner of the Mill when it burnt down in the latter part of 1906. John Dickon came from North Frodingham to Driffield in 1778, and the first entry against him in my old joiner’s book is “March 31, to getting timber out of river 1s 2d.” From this it would seem that some timber was floated up the canal, which had then been open about five years. The next item is “April 13, self half day loading mill-stones, 1s 2d.” Then followed a great number of entries showing that extensive alterations were being made at King’s Mill. In the nave of North Frodingham Church, near the tower, is a mural monument in memory of Eliza Dickon, of Driffield, died Feb 24, aged 18 years. On three floor-stones, near the above, are recorded the deaths of John Dickon, died 5th July, 1805; Priscillas, wife of John Dickon, died 27th January, 1812, aged 64; and John Boyes, brother to Priscilla Dickon, died 18th March, 1819, aged 77. This is John Dickon in the “Miller Dicking” of the skit. From that last day in March, in 1778, when “Miller Dicking” employed the joiner, to to-day, he and his descendants have been employers of labour in Driffield, and have always done their best for its commercial and social prosperity. Their last remark applies not only to John Dickon, but to several of those people who were ridiculed. They and their descendants became the captains of our local industry and leaders in our social life, whilst the two men with “estates,” who held aloof and who were honoured by having “Mr” stuck in front of their names, of them the town to-day knows little. “MR” DRINKROW Among the names mentioned in the Driffield skit of 1790, ridiculing the rejoicing at the establishment of a daily postal service to Driffield is that of “Mr” Drinkrow, who is coupled with “Mr” Gray as men of “estates,” who wisely stood aloof from the festivities. In their day and generation the Drinkrows were an important family in Driffield; but, like many another old Driffield family, the town now knows their name no more. The last of the family in the direct line, and bearing the name of Drinkrow, was Mr William Drinkrow, solicitor, who died some ten or eleven years ago. He was the grandson of “Squire Drinkrow,” of whom many droll stories are told. Squire Drinkrow was the son of William Drinkrow, who would, I think, be the son of Henry Drinkrow, the younger, who was the guarantor for the people of Driffield to the Postmaster General at the establishment of the post office in 1772. The parish register of Driffield contains the entry: “March 21st, 1770, Henry Drinkrow married Mary Boyes.” Where he lived I do not know, for in the deed he is described as “the younger,” which implies that his father was then living. If such were the case the father would be living in the family mansion in Westgate. How far back the Drinkrows go in local history, I do not know, but I well remember before the restoration of the parish church, when they were ruthlessly removed, there were many mural tablets to the memory of members of the family displayed in the nave and chancel. Some extracts I have from the parish register go back as far as “Sep 21st 1758, Beth Boyes married Milcah Drinkrow.” Other early entries are: “George Cowart married Ann Drinkrow, 26th July, 1759.” This would probably be the Dr Cowart who resided in the house, which stood on the ground now occupied by the house of Mr Lovel, butcher, in Middle Street South. “Jonathon Garton married Mary Drinkrow, 13th Nov, 1771.” “Thomas Cator married Mary Drinkrow, 7th Nov, 1775.” This Mr Thos Cator, as I have already said, was Driffield’s first solicitor. He had his portrait painted in oils, and it was in the possession of the late Mrs Drinkrow. At the sale of the deceased’s lady’s effects, it was purchased by Mr W Scotchburn, in whose possession it is now. Mr Scotchburn, another solicitor, who came to Driffield at a later date, also married into the Drinkrow family. He served his articles in Hull, and settled in Driffield about 1816. He married Jane, daughter of John Harrison, yeoman, of Drewton Manor, South Cave, by Ann, daughter of Samuel Robson of Gransmoor, niece of William Drinkrow, of Westgate, Driffield, and from him descends Mr Wm Scotchburn, J.P., who today occupies that foremost position in the town, as Chairman of the Urban Council, as did his forelders, on the female side, who, I find, were frequently Churchwardens – John Drinkrow was Churchwarden in 1764 – when the Churchwardens were the only men in authority over the parish. At the time of which I am more especially writing – 1790 – the Drinkrows would be living in their mansion – as it might be well termed – in Westgate, for it was one of the first houses in Driffield to be constructed entirely of brick. This house, the home of the Etherington’s – also in Westgate – and the house now occupied by Dr Eccles, in Bridge Street, were probably the three best houses erected in Driffield up to that time. Routh Hall, which stood in the field opposite Messrs Matthews’ works, in Eastgate, would be an important house in its day, but it would be half timbered work, and it had been pulled down before the time of which I am writing, leaving not a vestige of memory of its character to the present generation, save its ancient moat and a few snowdrops and crocuses which still spring up year by year from bulbs left in its ancient garden. An old plan of Driffield, which gives the ground plan of the various houses, shows Routh Hall to have been much the largest house in the village. But Routh Hall is another story, and I am trying to tell something about the Drinkrows. WESTGATE OVER A HUNDRED YEARS AGO In 1790 Westgate was a very different street from what it is today. The houses were fewer and were inhabited by a better class of people, and the street would have quite a sylvan appearance, numerous trees standing in it to a much later date. Until quite recently no building intervened on the west side of the street between Crosshill and the Etherington House – now occupied by the priest in charge of the Roman Catholic Church, recently erected upon part of the garden of the house – and all that side of the street was overhung by ancient trees, nearly up to Cross Hill, and on the side of the street where now stands Mr S.H. Gibson’s premises was a considerable sheet of water, known to the lads of the town of fifty years ago as “The Flash.” In 1790 the overflow from this would find its way in an open ditch or gutter through the field opposite, where now stands the Wesleyan Chapel, and thence down Cranwell-lane to the beck. At a later date this open water-course was converted into a brick culvert, and it still exists, though disused. On the east side of the street there were probably no houses until the three thatched cottages at the top of Harland-lane were reached. What is now Mr Scott’s carriage works was the first Wesleyan Chapel, erected in 1795. The adjoining property, now called the widows’ houses, was erected shortly afterwards by “John Gray, gentleman, of Great Driffield, - perhaps the Mr Gray who stood aloof from the rejoicings – who, in his will, dated 19th October, 1797, says, “Whereas I have lately erected and built some almshouses in Great Driffield, aforesaid, adjoining the newly-erected Methodist Meeting-house there.” Mr Gray seems to have wished to make his name immortal “on the cheap,” for he provided no endowment for his “almshouses,” but left directions in his will that the poor tenants should keep the place in repair! Thus, for about half its distance, Westgate would be a country lane. CAPTAIN FLINT’S RACE WITH MRS THORNTON In the first of the three houses at the top of Harland-lane lived, in reduced circumstances, Captain William Flint, a member of the sporting fraternity about the end of the 17th century, whose name is remembered by his riding a race at York, in 1804, for a stake of a thousand guineas, with the wife of Colonel Thornton (whose sister he had married). Flint was the father of the late Mr William Flint, who was a watchmaker and carried on business in Mill Street, in the shop next to that now occupied by Mr Wilson, tailor, where he died about 40 years ago. Mr William Seaton, master of the Driffield National School, who will be well remembered by old National boys, married his daughter. Though this race is altogether outside the scope of our subject, perhaps my readers will pardon me for introducing it, because it is an interesting event in our local annals about the time of which I am writing. The race took place on the last day of the York August meeting, in 1804. The course was four miles, and, writing of it a contemporary writer says it “will be long memorable in the annals of turf…….The attractive novelty of the scene was so great that 50,000 spectators were that day drawn to Knavesmire.” In the early part of the course, it is recorded, the fair jockey rode with great spirit and dexterity, but while running the third mile, her horse, Vingarillo, broke down, owing to the saddle girths slipping, and she lost the race. There was some allegations of foul play, I think. Flint won the race, and it was considered a very ungallant act, and gave rise to disputes, litigation – Colonel Thornton declining to pay his stake – and a horse-whipping on the course between the brothers –in-law. Flint died in York, in 1832, at the age of 56 years through, it was said, taking an overdose of prussic acid for spasmodic asthma. He must have had a very sympathetic jury if they really believed that he was dosing himself with prussic acid for asthma or anything else. Though it is 75 years since Captain Flint’s medicine disagreed with him, the other day in Driffield, I met with a lady who knew him well, and she described him as “a tall, fine man, with a little wife.” LE MARCHE, THE PRUSSIAN Passing across Harland-lane, the brewery house, pulled down about ten or twelve years ago, might be built. It was occupied by a brewer named George Stephenson in 1823. The long row of houses between there and Church-lane might be standing in 1790, but it is doubtful, if they were at first called Le Marche’s-row, for Le Marche, who was a Prussian, did not come to Hull until about 1800, when he married the daughter of his master, one of the Etherington’s, a Hull merchant, and afterwards succeeded to the Driffield property. His daughter, who is buried in the Driffield cemetery, married a member of the Hull family of Holden, and conveyed the Driffield property to them. But that is the story of the Etheringtons. THE HOME OF THE DRINKROWS On the west side of Westgate might then be standing the three old cottages, now in ruin, adjoining the Catholic Church. From there to the home of the Drinkrows would then be an open field or garden. The Drinkrows mansion was the fine old house now occupied by Mr C. Charter, 72 Westgate. It is a double fronted house, with one large bay window on the ground floor – probably a later addition – and the front door is reached by two steps. At first, most likely, the house would be thatched, as probably were most, if not all, of the houses in Driffield at that date. Church Street did not then exist, and the Drinkrows had the land along that side of Westgate as far as the modern row of a dozen or so cottages extends, and they had the whole of the land to the westward as far as “The Kelds,” or the trout stream. Until an earlier period than that of which I am writing – 1790 – Shady-lane – now Victoria-road – would not exist. From its straightness, doubtless it was laid out when the parish was enclosed, in 1742. At the time of the enclosure the commissioners awarded an allotment to the Etheringtons running back from Shady-lane to King’s Mill; and an adjoining allotment, beginning at what is now Akester’s-lane, in Shady-lane, and extending from thence to nearly opposite Church Street, and, as I have said, running back to “The Kelds,” was awarded to the Drinkrows. At that time, 1742, were planted the trees, dividing the allotments, which now run down to the stream and form such a picturesque feature of the fields leading down to King’s Mill. The trees on each side of Shady-lane – now all chopped down – which, fifty years ago, made it really a shady lane, would be planted at the same time. The Drinkrows farmed their own land, and behind the house in Westgate are some old barns and buildings which I should think are some of the oldest examples of brickwork in Driffield, and they have some find old gable ends, built in a manner likely to stand for centuries yet if they are not pulled down, though the end walls are but four and a half inches thick. The ends of the houses, as indeed is the case in all old houses in the town, are very thin, being only a brick in breadth. Bricks then, which would be burnt with wood, must have been burnt very differently from local bricks today, or every shower of rain would penetrate to the inside of the houses. Passing further up Westgate there was probably but another house, that now occupied by Mr Sanderson, grocer, which was then a farmhouse with a large barn behind it, in which John Wesley preached on one of his visits to Driffield. The barn was pulled down in 1866. The home and “estates” of the Drinkrows came into the hands of Mr T.G Marshall and Mr G.R. Wrangham, of Driffield, by purchase over forty years ago, when they laid out Church Street and West Promenade. Up to that time there was an extensive rockery in a row of noble old elm trees extending northward from the house of the Drinkrows the entire length of the row of modern cottages on the west side of Westgate. This row of noble ancestral trees is pictured in a fine old view of Driffield Church published by my late father fifty years ago. A finer view of our church, with its majestic tower, perfect in proportion and beautiful in detail, than this coloured print of fifty years ago, has never since been attempted. PEOPLE OF LESS IMPORTANCE I have dealt with nearly all the more important persons mentioned in the Driffield skit of 1790, on the festivities at the introduction of the first daily postal service, and I have had something to say about their respective families. There remains but two persons of whom I have to write, or rather persons of two families – those of Porter and of Jarratt. The other names mentioned in the skit are those of people who have left no particular impress upon the times in which they lived that is discernible today. Decent citizens, doubtless, they considered themselves to be – and probably were – but there seems to have been nothing in their lives to lift them above the dull round of the life of the ordinary villager. That the identity of these people is lost is not to be wondered at, seeing that at the time they lived there was little writing and less printing to keep the memory of people and incidents alive; and 117 years is a long time. The knowledge may be a shock to some of us when we come to consider it – important people that we think ourselves – but of how many of us, living in Driffield today will there be even a memory in 2,024? – 117 years from hence. THE PORTER FAMILY The author of the skit of 1790 has chosen to refer to the more prominent members of this family as “Willie Porter and two or three of his sons,” and to state that they were at the festive dinner at the Bell, and to mention parenthetically “Willie was ‘th landlord at Blue Bell.” At the time of the skit – 1790 – the great families of the town of Driffield were distinctly three – that of Porter, Drinkrow, and Dickon. Of course, the last two, of which I have already written, Mr William Drinkrow, solicitor, was the last of the Drinkrow family to bear the name, and Miss Dickon, who was the mother of Mr H.D. Marshall, was the last of the Dickons. They died ten or twelve years ago. Of the direct descedants of “Willy” Porter, Driffield numbers them no more among its inhabitants, the last member of the family bearing the name to leave the town being Mr William Porter, manager of the printing department of Mr B Fawcett’s works. He went to Liverpool about twenty five years ago, where he is now living. Although his is a living member of a family, I may, perhaps, be permitted to say that his is no unworthy member of a family that produced so many men of enterprise in Driffield at the end of the 18th Century, for his knowledge of the languages, history, and manners and customs of the peoples of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark – many of whom settled in England at an early age – is, perhaps, unrivalled among Englishmen. The history of the Porter family in Driffield goes back quite three hundred years, and so numerous and important were the various members of it that the corner of our churchyard where they lie buried, mingling their dust in direct representation for all those years, came to be known as the “Porters’ Corner.” I have heard it said that it was a saying of one of the sons of “Willy” Porter that there was only one family with a longer association with Driffield than that of the Porters, but they had broken the record by being absent for a generation or two. This family was the Reastons, of which the late Mr Edward Reaston and the late Misses Reaston, who lived in Exchange Street, were members. THE MEN WHO GAVE PROSPERITY TO DRIFFIELD There is a good deal of honour to the Porter family in the past history of Driffield, which has been, unfortunately, obliterated in the change of the last century; indeed, it would be safe to say that the foundation of any commercial prosperity the town has had was laid by “Willy Porter and his two or three sons,” the former of whom was the man who promoted and pushed through Parliament the Bill for making the Driffield canal or navigation – a work which is still providing a blessing to the town in keeping down railway rates and in other ways. “Willy” Porter, as the author of the skit says, was at one time the landlord of the Blue Bell, as it was then called, in the Market Place, and in my old joiner’s account book I find his name frequently mentioned; indeed the accounts in the book are largely those against members of the Porter family. The book covers but a few years, yet, there are accounts against Thomas, Richard, junior; William, senior; William, junior; and William Porter. This frequency of the name, and the persistence of the name of William, make it difficult to deal with the various members of the family at this late date. From my old book I find that in 1777 William Porter, who was the great grandfather of Mr William Porter, now of Liverpool, was the landlord at what is nor the Bell Hotel, and the second item against him in the book is “Nov 17th, 1777, to erecting tables, 2s.” Then follows on the 18th “to attending Staties (statutes) 2s 2d.” and on the 27th “to erecting tables and attending 2s 2d.” These items have references to the annual hirings of farm servants and to Martinmas Thursday. At the time he was lampooned he had retired from the Bell to a house he had erected at the end of Eastgate South, looking down to River Head. This house was afterwards occupied by David Anderson (whose portrait now hangs in the Mechanics’ Institute) and by Captain Anderson. After that – about 1870 – it passed into the hands of the late Mr Robert Kirby, the landlord of the Bell, who altered it, when it was occupied by Count Bathyany, and it is now occupied by Mrs Woodcock, the owner. A copy of William Porter’s will is, I understand, included among the title deeds of the house. It is an interesting and amusing document. He had three sons – Richard, William and Ralph. The latter of these three is cut off, with the proverbial shilling, or without it, for running away with the governess, and what was still worse, marrying her. He and his bride settled in the neighbourhood of Ripon, where they had a large family, and where the name has since become common as the result of this runaway match. Richard established himself as a corn merchant at River Head, where he occupied the first warehouse erected there, and there he was succeeded by his son William, the father of the present Mr William Porter. PLUCK, ENERGY AND DETMINATION The “Willy” Porter of the lampoon must have been a wonderful man in his day and generation and a man of pluck, energy and determination, with far-seeing powers. He lived in Driffield, then an insignificant place of some 700 or 800 people, overshadowed by the greater importance of Kilham, which was then the most important market town on the wolds. Driffield, with its three posts a week – only quite recently granted to the village – was isolated from the activities of the world – which, it is true, were then not very great anywhere. The roads to Driffield were bad in summer and almost impassable in winter, and such roads as there were, inspired men’s minds with different ideas from what a highway does today. Today the sight of a high road, a railway, or telegraph wire dispels the idea of isolation, but a century or more ago the highway, with its’ expense in travelling, its’ unknown dangers and mischance’s; its’ discomforts, to say nothing of the robberies and murders committed upon it, made it a very symbol of isolation; and then every condition discouraged the circulation of thought and new ideas. Yet in Driffield “Willy” Porter was thinking very hard. The age was just at the beginning of the commercial and industrial prosperity that has flowed over the country ever since with an ever-increasing flood. A canal had just been opened from the mouth of the Sandy-brook, in the Mersey, to Gerrard’s Bridge and St Helens, a distance of 11 miles, the Act to make, which was passed in 1755. Before this work was finished the Duke of Bridgewater, with his engineer Brindley, had set out on that stupendous engineering feat of his, the Bridgewater Canal between Worsley and Manchester. THE IDEA OF THE DRIFFIELD CANAL News of these undertakings somehow filtered through to isolated insignificant Driffield, and set Mine Host of the Bell thinking deeply as he supplied the villagers with their pints and quarts of his home-brewed ale. There was plenty of water in the neighbourhood and a waterway to Hull. Could this stream – which as yet had served no purpose but for idle men to fish in – be made to carry ships upon its waters? Could navigable water communication be opened up with Hull? With the Humber? With the world? What may not “Willy” Porter have seen in the clouds of smoke that went up form his “churchwarden” as he sat in his corner seat in his own bar? But he was no ordinary visionary. He was a man of action; and, daring as the idea was of bringing a canal to a village of 700 or 800 inhabitants, he set about the work in earnest, throwing himself heart and soul into the project. OPPOSTION FROM THE PEOPLE It was well for Driffield that he was a man of energy and determination, for he had much opposition to face. He not only had to face that opposition which all men born before their time, or possessed of a new idea, have to face; but he had to face the powerful opposition of other far-seeing and long-headed men at Kilham, who fully realised the worth of his idea, and realised, as doubtless “Willy” realised before them, that if water communications could be opened from Driffield to Hull, it would deal a death blow to the trade of Kilham, for Driffield would become the great trade and commercial centre of the Wold district. Instead of being sent across country in sacks on the backs of horses and mules, corn would be sent from Driffield to Hull by water, and coals brought from Newcastle to Hull by sea, could be brought back again. I have heard it said that so great was the opposition at one time to the making of the canal, and so much were the people of Driffield at loggerheads over the project, that those who were in favour of it had to hold their meetings at Malton. If such were the case, that would probably account for the migration from Malton to Driffield, of our first two lawyers – Thomas Cator and “Billy” Conyers, who saw in the dissensions of the inhabitants a splendidly profitable field for their legal enterprise! SIR WILLIAM ST. QUINTIN HOODWINKED The opposition to the canal from the people of Driffield, however, gradually died down as they began to realise its value and they found that the people of Kilham wanted it also. The people of Kilham had at their head St. Quintin, who died in 1795. He saw the great benefits to be derived from the new means of inland communication, and doubtless realised how a canal would improve his estates, through which a canal to Kilham would have to pass. “Willy” Porter and Sir William matched their wits against one another, and “Willy,” who must have been rather ‘cute,’ or as we say of this day, ‘slim,’ for he gave up his opposition to Sir William and fell in with his idea that there should be a canal to Kilham. He pointed out that he had been first in the field, and that the canal should first be made to Driffield, and that Frodingham Beck should be made navigable up to near Frodingham – to what is now Frodingham Bridge. After that the Kilham section could be cut and it would greatly improve the undertaking. Thus was Sir William hoodwinked and the canal has yet to be made to Kilham! Save a short cut, which Sir William made at his own expense to his mill at Foston, the Kilham project got no further, and is not now likely to do. Thus was the project of Sir William to increase the value of his estates at the expense of the enterprising people of Driffield frustrated, and when it was realised how “Willy” had got the best of Sir William, he became the hero of the people of Driffield and their champion by popular acclaim. Meetings were held at Driffield, important resolutions passed, and much of the opposition crushed down. Then the time came when Parliamentary powers had to be applied for. The statutory notices were lodged, and a bill drafted. PARLIAMENTARY POWERS OBTAINED When the day came for the bill to be brought before the House of Commons, it was “Willy” Porter who was the principal of those men who went from Driffield to London to give evidence in its favour, and he it was who fought it through the Committee and silenced all opposition. The conflict was such a one as Driffield people had never passed through before, and probably never have since; and of the keenness of that struggle, the people of Driffield of the present day are in almost total ignorance, though they are still reaping the benefits of its issue. News came to Driffield of the success of the scheme, and of the part that Porter had played in the struggle, and his popularity increased immensely. At that time there was no coach between Hull and Driffield and he travelled from Hull in a private chaise. When he arrived at Kelleythorpe-road end he came upon a crowd of cheering villagers, who took out the horses and pulled him into the village of Driffield in triumph. Could but Driffield breed a few such men today. We have need of them. THE MAKING OF THE CANAL The Act received the Royal Assent on the 20th May, 1767. It sets out the work to be done, regulates the tolls and charges to be levied, appoints Commissioners, who are directed “to meet on the 28th day after the passing of the Act at the house of William Porter, known by the sign of the Blue Bell, in the town of Great Driffield, and shall then proceed to the execution of the Act.” Since that day 140 years ago, the Commissioners have annually met at the Bell. The work done under the Act, as set out in the preamble, was “improving the navigation of the River Hull and Frodingham Beck, from Ake-Beck-Mouth to the clough on the east corner of Fisholme; and for extending the said navigation from the said clough (by means of a cut or canal) into or near the town of Great Driffield.” It was at first intended to bring the canal through the town, but this idea, fortunately, was abandoned. In 1772, five years after the passing of the Act, William Porter saw the fruition of all his hopes and struggles in the opening of the waterway, and the passing up and down of vessels from and to Hull. THE DRIFFIELD CANAL No sooner had the canal been opened than Driffield began to attract to itself the trade of the Wold district, and the trade of Kilham began to decline. The superior facilities offered to traders at Driffield soon extinguished the market at Kilham, where anciently stood a market cross, now in the church-yard at Lowthorpe, where, tradition says, it was removed, along with the market at a time when Kilham was visited by the plague, or black death, or one or another of those sources that periodically swept over the land in the ages when people did not know – or did not practise – the most elementary principles of sanitary science. The cross was never removed back again, though a market must have been held at Kilham since the removal of the cross to Lowthorpe. Exactly when the Kilham market was given up I do not know, but it was wholly discontinued in 1823, and had then been so for some time. THE REVIVAL OF THE MARKET The ancient market at Driffield began to revive under the elm tree in the open square in front of the Bell. I have written “ancient market” advisedly. I know it is generally said there is no charter for the market at Driffield; and up to some short time ago the best informed believed such to be the case. It has since been pointed out by Mr John Nicholson, of Hull, that at the Quo Warrants Inquiry of Edward I, in 1293, John Baliol, King of Scotland, was summoned to answer how he claimed to have a market and fairs in his manor of Driffield. John Baliol appeared by attorney, and established his right by charter, which he produced, of Henry III (1241). The market in John Baliol’s time was held on Monday. Kilham market was held on Thursday, and that day was used for the revived market at Driffield. Though this has little do with the Porters, the interest of the circumstances must be my excuse for its inclusion here. “WILLY” PORTER, A MAN OF PROPERTY Before the cutting of the canal “Willie” Porter was a man of considerable property, but for some reason he was not included among the commissioners to whom the cutting of the canal was entrusted. These were sixty or seventy in number and included all the large landed proprietors of the district. Among the names I find the following residents of Driffield and the neighbourhood: Francis Best (Elmswell), Thomas Brown (Kelleythorpe), Robert Cross, John Conyers, Jas. Conyers, John Drinkrow, Henry Drinkrow, jun., the Rev Geo. Etherington, Thos. Etherington, Robert Forge, James Farthing, Richard Kirby, John Kirby, Richard Knowesley, Christopher Laybourne, William Laybourne, Miles Smith, and others. The absence of the name of William Porter from the names of the commissioners set out in the Act of Parliament may be accounted for by the supposition that he was the man to whom was to be entrusted the actual cutting of the canal. Some facts that came to my knowledge a short time ago, show that the actual work of making the canal was entrusted to “Willy” Porter – hence the absence of his name as a commissioner. Whether he did the work by contract, or whether he had sub-contractors for sections, I have never been able to ascertain, nor have I been able to discover the name of the engineer or of the man who took the levels. A reference to the early records of the commissioners, if they are not now destroyed – which is likely – should settle these points. One thing seems certain, and that is that “Willy” Porter increased his fortune by the making of the canal. “Willy” Porter, as I have said, was a man of property, and his property was situate about River Head; and I believe the land upon which the warehouses are erected, and the land taken for the wharf, was his property. If he made as well out of this land as people do today who have land taken for similar purposes, the cutting of the canal must have greatly increased his fortune and made possible in the next generation that greatest – though disastrous – private commercial enterprise that Driffield has ever known – the building of the Bell Mills and the founding of the textile industry in the town. But more of this anon. REVIVED ACTIVITY When the water-way was once opened it naturally became popular, and more goods came into the town than had ever done before. Coals from Newcastle and the West Riding, which must hitherto have been a luxury of the rich – for such few coals as were previously used would have to be carried on the backs of mules or horses from Bridlington over bad roads – began to be brought up by the vessel load, and naturally would be procurable at a much less price than hitherfore. Wheat was brought from the surrounding district for shipment, and merchants began to establish themselves in the town, which began to put on an importance and activity such as had not been known since the days when King Alfred of Northumbria held court at Driffield about a thousand years previously. Vessels, known as “Driffield traders,” began to ply regularly between Driffield and Hull, with general merchandise which, until then, in smaller volume, had been carried by the wagons of Philemon Ashton, Bell and England, Blenksop, and James Donkin, or their predecessors. In 1823, and probably earlier, the vessels plying to Hull for goods every other day were: The Progress, Capt. Thomas Randall; The Hope, Capt. John Randall; and The Speedy, Capt. Charles Verity. A trade with London was also opened up, vessels from Driffield making the sea passage to the Thames. “WILLY’S” SON RICHARD AND HIS FAMILY Soon after the opening of the canal, the warehouses at River Head were built. In one of these Richard Porter, as I have said, established himself as a corn merchant. In this business he was followed by his son William Porter, jun., grandson of “Willy” Porter, and father or Mr William Porter, of Liverpool. From my old directory, I find he was trading at River Head as a corn merchant, in 1823. He was also the landlord of “The Sloop,” which I believe at that time also included the next house. AN HISTORIC LEAP He was a regular follower of the Holderness Hounds, and must have been a good and fearless rider, for it was he, the country then being unenclosed hedges, who rode down Whinhill and made the historic leap across the lock. At that time the locks on the canal were not of brickwork, but were formed of timber piles, the lock-pit then widening out from the bottom to the top, where it attained a width of 27 feet, which was the length of the jump. He was Lieutenant of the Grenadier Company of a Volunteer force formed in Driffield at a time when invasion was feared from France. Lawyer Cator, to whom I have before referred, was Captain of the Driffied force and William Porter, I have been told, was adjutant of the regiment and paymaster, and was the only officer who could put the regiment through a field day exercise. “William Porter, junior,” as he always signed himself to distinguish himself from another William Porter, his cousin, who was in business at River Head, in 1823, as a brewer and maltster, seems to have “slowed up” in after life, for after his son William Porter, now of Liverpool, was born at “The Sloop” in 1838, he left the innkeeping business and became one of the first teetotallers in Driffield. The present William Porter, his son, about twenty-five or more years ago, in his turn became at a time when Good Templary was most popular, Worthy Chief Templar of England. A daughter of “William Porter, junior,” became the wife of the late Mr B. Fawcett, of Driffield, and greatly helped him in the foundation and carrying on of his once successful printing and book publishing business, and thus were the Porters identified with another of Driffield’s principal commercial enterprises. In his time Benjamin Fawcett paid among the work-people of Driffield, certainly not less than £150,000 in wages – probably much more. It is strange, as I have before mentioned, how the people who were held up to ridicule by the lampoon of 1790, and their descendants, became the captains of industry in the village which they made into a thriving little industrial town – but we shall see more of this as we go along – whilst those who discreetly held aloof from the festivities did little for the town. “MERCHANT” PORTER I have not been able to settle with certainty who this member of the Porter family was. One authority says he was cousin to “Willy” Porter and that he was in business at the corner of Exchange Street, where now stands Honor’s Hotel. Another authority says that he was “Willy” Porter’s son, and that he was not in business. I am inclined to think that he was “Willy” Porters son, and that he must have been in business somewhere to have acquired the soubriquet of “Merchant.” Be that as it may, we find him and Richard Porter, who was certainly “Willy’s” son, both in possession of great wealth about 1790 – probably in part derived from “Willy’s” connection with the canal, and probably they themselves had a share in the actual making of that great work. “Merchant” Porter, whose name was the ever-cropping-up William, was one of the builders of Bell Mills. He had one son and three daughters. The son was a sea faring man. In 1828 he was at Quebec with his ship, which was heavily laden with timber. The month was August and the weather was very bad. Young Porter did not like putting to sea with such a cargo in such bad weather; but, at the entreaty of the owners of the cargo, and in the face of his better judgment, he put to sea and was never heard of again. Thirteen years afterwards part of the stern of his ship was washed ashore on the coast of France. Ninety-one years ago, on the 5th of the month of November, one of the daughters married the late George Shepherdson, and she became the mother of Mr John Frank Shepherdson, J.P., the principal of the captains of our local industries, the head of the firm of George Shepherdson and Son, cabinet makers, the largest employing and wage-paying firm in the town. Another daughter married the late Mr J.F. Lamplough, of Bridlington; anther Mr J. Bulmer, of Pocklington; and the other, Mr John Rose, Master Mariner, of Hull. I have before mentioned Routh Hall, and I may in a subsequent article tell the story of that old Driffield house as far as it can be told at this late date. From an old letter that came into my possession the other day it seems that the old Hall came into the possession of one of the Porter family – which one I do not know, and that he pulled it down about 130 years ago. A BIG PROJECT When “Willy Porter and two or three of his sons,” as stated by the lampooner of 1790, dined at the Bell with Sir Christopher Sykes, they were all men of substance. Considered by the standard of that day – when money was by no means plentiful anywhere – the day of the millionaire had not arrived – they might be described as immensely wealthy. Possibly the possession of this great wealth was a sore point with “Mr Gray and Mr Drinkrow and such as had estates.” “Willy” Porter had then done more for the prosperity of Driffield than any man who ever lived. He had made the canal and had put the town and district into direct water communication with Hull, and had thus brought it into direct touch with any place in the world to which ships sailed from Hull. I do not know whether he was proud of his achievement; but he had good reason to be satisfied with what he had done for his native village, and he was entitled to rest upon the laurels he had earned. At that period he would certainly be “getting on” in years, but it is doubtful if he did much resting. Men of his type seldom retire from active life. Whether “Willy” Porter “rested” is not known; but at the time of the dinner, two of his sons, William (Merchant) and Richard – if “Merchant” was his son, which I am inclined to think he was – must have had their heads filled with a gigantic project – a project which none but men of immense wealth could contemplate carrying through – that of building a large factory and establishing the textile industry in the place of their birth. THE HAND-LOOM WEAVERS At that time all the weaving in the district was done at the hand loom. Weaving was one of the recognised industries of almost every village and small town, just as were shoemaking and tailoring. The weaver, as he sat at his loom, swiftly throwing the shuttle backwards and forwards through the warp, singing merrily the while to occupy his mind – much as the mill girls of the West Riding do today – was an object of wonder to the village children. To him was taken to be woven into material for sheets, table cloths, and other articles, the flax spun in the homes of the neighbourhood by the “spinsters” – the unmarried female members of the family. It is scarcely necessary to say that this was before the age of the novelette, and that girls, instead of filling their heads with impossible heroes and heroines, occupied their spare time more usefully at the spinning-wheel. The names of the early hand-loom weavers of the neighbourhood do not seem to have come down to this late generation, though some of them are known. The name of the weaver at East Lutton was Richard Billington, and to him was bound apprentice for twelve years, James Fairbotham, of Nafferton, whose twelve years apprenticeship expired in February, 1794, just about the period of which I am writing, and he began business at Nafferton. In Driffield, in 1823, Joseph Barnett carried on business as a linen weaver at No 1 Chapel-lane, in a house pulled down about ten years ago, where he had two looms. At the same time Thomas Belshaw was weaving linen in the Market Place, and John Drury was making worsted in Westgate. These men were only survivals of the weavers of the day before the factory system bad been introduced. A WOOD-TUNRING MILL The old mill at the side of the beck, at the bottom of Albion-street – at the end of the 18th century called Dye Garth Lane or Dyehouse Garth Lane – was built by Mark Laybourne as a wood-turning mill. The idea was to turn by water-power the bobbins, spindles, and other turnery required in weaving. Whether this mill was built for the convenience of the hand-weavers I do not know, but I am of opinion that it was built before Bell Mills. In the Driffield Parish register, under the date of Dec. 23rd, 1793, is the entry “Mark Laybourne married Jane Jarratt. Witness, Jer. Jarratt.” If this be the same Mark Laybourne who built the mill, probably he had well established himself in business before embarking upon the troubled sea of matrimony. THE BUILDING OF BELL MILLS Although the building of Bell Mills took place only one hundred and fifteen years ago, which is but as yesterday, historically, there is such a great conflict of evidence as to by whom it was built; the relationship of those persons to “Willy” Porter; and the exact manufacturing purpose for which it was erected; that it is almost impossible to write anything more definite than that the mill was built by some members of the Porter family, in 1792, for a textile factory. The age was one in which great improvements were being made in weaving machinery. Hargreaves had patented his spinning-jenny in 1767, Arkwright the water-frame in 1769, and Cartwright the power-loom in 1785. Cotton and woollen mills were being erected in the West Riding and in Lancashire, where the new factory system was rapidly turning poor and half-starved villages into prosperous industrial towns, and making mill-owners wealthy. All this did not pass unnoticed in Driffield, notwithstanding the fact that it was about the period when only one newspaper a week came into Driffield; which, after being read by its owner, was passed to his friends, and then finally, when about a week old, was read aloud to the villagers assembled under the elm tree at the corner of the Market Place. The man who had made the canal and his sons were not likely to look upon the upspringing of these new industries with unobserving eyes. These new factories or mills were turned by water-power. There was plenty of water at Driffield for both power and washing purposes, and the canal was available for bringing up raw material and taking down manufactured fabric. Why should not a factory pay at Driffield? “Merchant” and Richard Porter thought long and seriously upon this matter; and doubtless they had the assistance of the far-seeing “Willy” Porter, who was the father of one or both. They were men of wealth. Why should not they invest their money in a factory to be erected at Driffield? Why should they not at once increase their fortune, make more work for the canal, and bring commercial prosperity to their native place, just then emerging from the village stage into that of a little town? Could they make it into a great commercial centre? When the project once entered the minds of the Porters, these and other questions must have passed through their active brains. At last the erection of the mill was decided upon and the site, just outside the boundaries of Driffield, in the parish of Skerne, which we now call Bell Mills, pitched upon as a suitable place upon the streams to build a mill. The locality was not unconnected with manufacture, for there must have been a mill of some sort in the neighbourhood at an earlier date. This mill was burnt down prior to the enclosure of Driffield, in 1742, for the award of that date, referring to the neighbourhood of the present Bell Mills, speaks of ‘Burnt mill bridge.’ Flax dressing and bleaching was also carried on near the stream. The undertaking of the Porters, for the time in which they lived, must have been of a colossal nature. No one knows the money that was put into the concern, but it must have equalled, if it did not exceed, that invested by a number of people exactly seventy years later, in the Driffield Linseed Cake Company. Considering the scarcity and value of money at the end of the 18th century, I should think the building of Bell Mills and filling it with machinery was the greater of the two. ALTERING THE COURSE OF THE STREAM In the case of Bell Mills, it was not merely the building and equipping of the mill that absorbed capital. Thousands of pounds must have been spent in cutting and altering the water-courses. The original stream ran over the road, then at a much lower level, where is now the first bridge going from Driffield, and possibly near there stood “Burnt-Mill.” Be that as it may, when the Porters came on the scene they altered the whole aspect of the neighbourhood. Vast excavations were made between where is not the railway bridge, on the Hull and Scarborough railway, and the second bridge near the mill. The high road was made higher with the excavated soil to form a dam for confining the water, and the sluice at the first bridge put into it. An embankment was made, upon which the water from the dam is carried into the mill. Behind the mill, a new cut, nearly half a mile in length, was made to get the waterway at the lowest level. In all this work, the Porters, with the experience they had gained in the cutting of the canal, would be quite at home; and the work today, after 115 years, is as sound as when it was constructed, and testifies to the knowledge and ability possessed by these remarkable men. Had their knowledge of weaving equalled their knowledge of “navigating,” things might have been very different in Driffield today. A CONFLICT OF IDEAS Who designed the mill and who designed and fitted in the machinery, I have been unable to ascertain. Even as to the men who built the mill there are two versions. One is that the mill throughout was built by a Hull contractor. So the present Mr W. Porter, of Liverpool, the grandson of Richard Porter, informs me. Mr J.F. Stephenson, the grandson of “Merchant” Porter, tells me the mill was built by two Driffield young men named Atkinson, who were builders. Between these two authorities who shall decide? Mr Stephenson’s story certainly has the more circumstance about it. It is this. When the two young Porters had finally decided upon embarking their capital in a factory, and the plans had been prepared, the question naturally arose as to whom should be entrusted the carrying out of the work? “Merchant” Porter was most anxious that the two young Atkinsons should build the mill. His brother Richard was doubtful of their ability to carry out such a big job, and pointed out the great amount of scaffolding and ladders that would be required, and he advocated delay and caution before anything irrevocable was done. “How could these young men,” he urged upon his brother, “Merchant,” whom I believe was the younger of the two; “without capital or experience carry out such work?” “Merchant” stuck to his idea, and replied, “If they have not the capital to carry on the work we must find it.” “Merchant” Porter’s counsels eventually prevailed, and the work of building the mill was given to the Atkinsons. LAYING THE FOUNDATION STONE At that time – 1792 – William Porter, (father of Mr Wm Porter, Liverpool), the son of Richard Porter, was a lad of thirteen years of age. He was then at Bubwith school, a celebrated seminary in its day, where he was being educated under Dr Ryan. As the head of the family in the next generation, he was fetched from school to lay the foundation stone of the new factory, which, doubtless, it was fondly hoped would bring in a new era of prosperity for the town and fortune for the builders – hopes which a few short sad years were utterly to dispel. The foundation stone laid, the brothers Atkinson, if Mr Shepherdson’s story be correct, went on apace with the building; and in due time the mill of four floors, much as it stands today – and as it has stood four-square to every wind that has blown for the last one hundred and fifteen years – was erected and fitted with machinery driven by water-power. THE FACTORY |
