Chapter 26

_The Forest and Vale from Early Victorian Times to the Present Day_

A.D. 1837 to 1905

This most recent stage in the development of Pickering is marked by the extinction of the few remaining customs that had continued to exist since mediæval times. One of the most hardy of these survivals was the custom of "Riding t' fair," as it was generally called. It only died out about twenty years ago when the Pickering Local Board purchased the tolls from the Duchy of Lancaster, so that it has been possible to obtain a photographic record of two of the Duchy tenants who used to take part in the ceremony. On market mornings the Steward of the Duchy armed with a sword in a richly gilt scabbard would repair to the castle on horseback, where he would be joined by two freeholders of Duchy land, also mounted; one carrying the antique halbert and the other the spetum that are now preserved in a solicitor's office in Eastgate.[1] They would then ride down to the top of the market-place, where the steward would take out of his pocket a well-worn piece of parchment and read the following proclamation.

"_O'yes! O'yes! O'yes!_

"Our Sovereign Lady the Queen and the Reverend John Richard Hill, Lord of this Manor, proclaim this fair by virtue of Her Majesty's writ of _ad quod Damnum_, for establishing the same for buying and selling of horses, geldings, cattle, sheep, swine, and all sorts of merchandise brought here to be sold, and do hereby order and direct a court of Pye Powder to be held at the house of Robert Simpson, where all matters in Difference will be heard and determined according to Law and Justice, and that no person do presume to buy or sell anything but between the rising and setting of the Sun, and they do strictly charge and command all persons to be of good behaviour during the continuance of this Fair.

"God save the Queen and the Lord of the Manor."

[Footnote 1: Mr Arthur Kiching's office. The sword is kept by Mr Boulton.]

The parchment is now in the possession of the present steward of the Duchy property, Mr J.D. Whitehead, who was appointed in 1887 and was the last to read the proclamation. From the market-place the steward with his armed attendants rode to the east end of Hungate, and to one or two other points in the town, reading the proclamation at each place.

The Court Leet, or, as its full title appears, the Court Leet, View of Frank Pledge, Court Baron, Copy-hall and Customary Court of the Castle Manor and Honour of Pickering, still meets every second year in October or November. Twenty-seven out of thirty-eight townships used to be represented by a constable and four men. Appointed annually and with much solemnity were the following list of officials:--

2 Constables. 2 Market Searchers. 2 Yarn Tellers. 2 Reeves. 2 Ale Tasters. 2 Leather Searchers. 2 Pinders (for stray cattle). 2 Water Searchers.

Of all these only the two pinders are now appointed to deal with stray cattle, and the sole use of the court at the present time is that of the enforcement of the clearing out of the drains and ditches on the Duchy property. The fines levied average from 6d. to 5s., but I have seen the record of as large an amount as 10s. imposed on a tenant who had allowed a tree to obstruct the flow of the water. The importance of keeping the level fields of the Vale properly drained is obvious, for a permanent obstruction might easily mean the flooding of a considerable area.

The jury dines at the expense of the Duchy of Lancaster at each meeting, and there is a "View Supper," as it is called, a week before the meeting, when the jury, having spent the whole day examining the ditches and drains between the fields, gather in the evening at one of the inns. The steward contributes a quarter of mutton, and the Lord of the Manor a couple of hares for soup.

The Court Leet still appoints the town's bellman in an informal manner; until lately he was reappointed and sworn in every year. At the present time the holder of the office is Levi Massheder, who has painted over the door of his house the curious inscription, "His Honourable Majesty's bellman."

In July 1857 the old shambles that stood at the top of the market-place, and in which three bullocks a week were killed by the six butchers, came down to be replaced by the unsightly building that now disfigures the main street of the town. It is a matter for surprise that the townsfolk did not utilise a valuable opportunity and put up in its place something that would have added to the attractiveness of the place and at the same time have commemorated the reign of Queen Victoria. The building might have had an open space beneath that would have been useful in bad weather on market days. The disappearance of the shambles occurred about the same time as the sweeping away of the stocks that stood on the north side of them, for these were the years of a great municipal awakening in Pickering, an awakening that unfortunately could not distinguish between an insanitary sewer and the obsolete but historic and quite inoffensive stocks; both had to disappear before the indiscriminating wave of progress.

In October 1846 the railway between Whitby and Pickering, that had been built ten years before for a horse-drawn coach, was opened for steam traction, and although this event is beyond the memories of most of the present-day Pickeronians, there is still living in the town a man named Will Wardell who is now seventy-seven, and as a boy of twelve acted as postillion to the horse railway. Postillions were only employed for a short time, the horse or horses being soon afterwards driven from the coach.

As a rule they employed one horse from Pickering to Raindale, where there was a public-house; then two to Fenbogs, and one to Bank Top above Goathland. If the wind were fair the coach would run to Grosmont by itself, after that one horse took the coach to Whitby. If more than one horse were used they were yoked tandem; five were kept at Raindale, where Wardell lived. There were two coaches, "The Lady Hilda" and the "Premier"; they were painted yellow and carried outside, four in front, four behind, and several others on the top, while inside there was room for six. Wardell helped to make the present railway, and has worked for fifty-five years as a platelayer on the line. He remembers Will Turnbull of Whitby who used to act as guard on the railway coach, and in the same capacity on the stage-coach from Pickering to York. He made the journey from Whitby to York and back daily, the coach running in conjunction with the railway coach; the two drivers were Mathew Groves and Joseph Sedman.

Gas, which must have been a perpetual wonder to the village folk when they came into Pickering, made its appearance in 1847; but even at the time of writing the town is only illuminated from the 10th of August until the end of April, and even in that period the streets are plunged in darkness at 11 p.m. The drainage of the town was taken in hand to some extent about fifty years ago, and the pestilential ditches and sewers that existed to within thirty years of the present time have gradually disappeared. Then between thirty and forty years ago the great spring in the limestone at Keld Head was utilised to give the town a water-supply, and thus the wells and pumps were superseded. Before the Local Board came into being about half a century ago, piles of timber were allowed to lie in Eastgate, and generally one may imagine the rather untidy quaintness so strongly characteristic of the engravings that illustrate country scenes in that period.

In 1841 or thereabouts there was a great gale that carried away the sails of the windmill which stood near the railway station, and a year or two afterwards the brick tower was demolished.

The early years of Queen Victoria's reign saw the destruction of several picturesque features, and they also witnessed the decease of some more of the old customs that were still fighting for their existence. Some of the old folks can just remember hearing their fathers tell of "the standing in church," described in the last chapter, and they quite well remember when the children used to receive prizes for saying poetry in front of the Communion-table in the parish church. Stang-riding continued up to twenty-five years ago in spite of the opposition of the police. Two figures to represent the individuals who had earned popular disfavour were placed in a cart and taken round the town for three successive nights, accompanied by a noisy crowd, who sang--

"Arang atang atang Here do we ride the stang, Not for my cause nor your cause Do we ride the stang, But for the sake of old...."

On the third night the effigies were burnt.

There was formerly a gallery at the west end of the church where the choir and organ were situated so that during the musical portions of the services the congregation turned towards the west to face the choir. About fifty years ago the leader who started the tune with a trumpet was James Ruddock "a bedstuffer." An old pitch-pipe used for starting the tunes was recently discovered by Mr J. Grant James, vicar of Marske-in-Cleveland.

Hungate Bridge, an iron structure, having made its appearance in 1864, is, as may be imagined, no ornament to the town.

In November 1851 the weathercock on the spire of the church was blown off, and in the following year it was replaced.

The restoration in 1878-79 included the very difficult work of renewing the Norman foundations of the tower, which were quite unable to continue to support the crushing weight of the spire. Sir Gilbert Scott, who inspected the tower and was pointed out several of the results of the unequal strains on the fabric, solemnly warned those concerned not to be stingy with cement if they wished to save the tower. The advice was taken, and after the removal of the crushed and rotten stones and many other repairs the tower and spire were left in a state of greatly increased security. The framework supporting the bells dated from about 1450, and as there were no louvres to the windows for a long time, rain and snow must have been blown in upon the woodwork, for it was found to be entirely rotten, and it was astonishing that the timbers had not given way under the great weight of the bells.

It is an old custom that is still preserved to ring the biggest, or the "pancake" bell, as it is often called, at eleven in the morning on Shrove Tuesday. At that welcome sound the children are allowed to leave school for the day, the shops are closed, and a general holiday is observed in the town. The work bell is rung every morning from 5.55 to 6.0, and from 6.0 to 6.5 every evening from March to November, and the bells are rung backwards to call out the fire brigade. The curious little fire-engine upon which the town used to rely is still preserved in a shed in Willowgate. It is one of those primitive little contrivances standing on very small solid wheels, suggesting those of a child's toy horse.

Until the restoration of the church the pulpit was of the two-decker type, the clerk's desk being under the pulpit, with the reading-desk at the side. The inlaid sounding-board which was taken out of the church at the restoration is now preserved in the vicarage. It was in these days, namely about thirty years ago, that the sexton and his deputy used to visit the public-houses during church time in order to fetch out those who were wasting the precious hours. At Christmas time the waits still enliven the early hours with their welcomes to each individual member of every family. The two men, whose names are Beavers and Stockdale, carry a concertina and greet the household after this well-known fashion, "Drawing to ----- o'clock and a fine frosty morning. Good morrow morning, Mr -----. Good morrow morning, Mrs -----," and so through the entire family. This process commences a week before Christmas and is continued until a week afterwards. In the villages the custom of "lucky birds" still survives. The boy who first reaches any house on Christmas morning is called a "lucky bird," and unless great misfortune is courted some small coin must be given to that boy. On New Year's Day the same process applies to girls, but they have no particular designation. Badger-baiting in the castle is still remembered, but at the present time lawn-tennis is the only game that is played there. This brings one to the everyday facts of Pickering life, which may sound almost too prosaic for any record, but taken in contrast with the conditions of life that have gone before they are the most recent page of that history which continues to be made day by day in the town.

The Pickeronian can no longer call himself remote in the sense of communication with the rest of the world, for the North-Eastern Railway takes him to York in little more than an hour, and from that great station he can choose his route to London and other centres by the Great Northern, the Great Central, or by the Midland Railway, and he can return from King's Cross to Pickering in about five hours. But this ease of communication seems to have made less impression upon the manners and customs of the town and neighbourhood than might have been imagined. It may perhaps show itself in the more rapid importation from London of a popular street tune or in the fashions of dress among the women-kind, but there are still great differences in the ways of living of the country folk and in the relations of squire and peasant.

Superstitions still linger among the moorland folk, and the custom of placing a plate of salt upon the breast of one who is dying is still continued here and there in a covert fashion. Clocks are still stopped, fires raked out, and looking-glasses turned to the wall at the moment of death, but such acts of deference to the world of fancy are naturally only seen by those who have intimate experience of the cottage life of these parts, and the casual visitor sees no traces of them.

The town at one time had a newspaper of its own. It was known as the _Pickering Mercury_, and was started in the summer of 1857; but it perhaps found Scarborough competition too much for it, for now it is almost forgotten, and an evening paper produced in the big watering-place is shouted round the streets of the town every night.

The changes that the present century may witness will possibly work greater transformations than any that have gone before, and not many years hence this book will no doubt be described as belonging to the rough and ready, almost primitive times of the early part of the twentieth century. The historian of a hundred years hence will sigh for the complete picture of daily life at Pickering at the present day, which we could so easily give, while he at that very moment may be failing to record the scenes of his own time that are to him so wofully commonplace.