Pilgrim Country

For a while I lived in Retford in Nottinghamshire. Along with Lincolnshire and Yorkshire this area became known as Pilgrim Country. Since it is Thanksgiving Day this week, over the Pond I thought I’d take a quick look at some of the key players from Pilgrim Country.

Near to Retford is the village of Babworth. The church there under the leadership of Richard Clyfton  became one of the centres of religious dissent during the early part of the seventeenth century. Many of those who eventually set sail in The Mayflower came from hereabouts.

Babworth Church

During her reign, Queen Elizabeth I had made many reforms of the Church of England but for some it was not enough; they wanted to abolish the church hierarchy and many of the rituals that derived from the Catholic church. A group know as Separatists went further, calling for a clear separation between the church and the state.

When King James came to the English throne in 1603 he followed the Catholic religion and made Non-Conformism including Separatism a crime of sedition. Anyone who participated in Non-Conformist worship of any kind could expect to lose their livelihood which meant in effect, poverty and often imprisonment.

Richard Clyfton supported the Separatist view. It was his preaching and inspiration that attracted two others – William Brewster, from nearby Scrooby and William Bradford from Austerfield.

William Brewster

William Bradford

William Brewster had studied at Peterhouse, Cambridge and then entered the service of William Davison who was the ambassador to the Netherlands. This provided him with his first opportunity to learn more about Non-conformist religion. Brewster returned home to Scrooby for a time and it was there that he encountered both Richard Clyfton and William Bradford.

When Conformists denounced Richard Clyfton as a Separatist (who thus was deprived of his living) the Brewsters at Scrooby Manor took him in. There they created their own clandestine church whose congregation included William Bradford.

Scrooby Manor

William Bradford was a teenager when he first met Brewster at Scrooby Manor. They became friends and when the move to Holland was proposed Bradford determined to join it.

At that time Non-Conformists were subjected to a range of pressures-fines, imprisonment, close supervision and so, in 1607 many of Clyfton’s congregation decided to flee to Holland, a more religiously tolerant country. Clyfton joined them a year later.

It was William Brewster who organised the flight to Holland.

At that time emigration without permission was illegal and the group travelled cautiously,always haunted by the threat of arrest and betrayal. They set off over the Lincolnshire Wolds, heading for Boston a small port on the Lincolnshire coast. They skirted the town itself and boarded a Dutch ship whose captain had agreed to take them to Holland. He betrayed them. They were all arrested and brought before a court. Surprisingly the court dealt with them quite leniently and most were released fairly soon.

The following year they tried again but nothing was ever easy for them. The men had walked to an agreed embarkation point whilst their women and children travelled in a barge down the river Trent. The men boarded. Unfortunately the captain of the ship saw a group of armed men approaching his ship. Putting two and two together, he knew he would face arrest if caught with his passengers so he set sail leaving the women and children behind. They were all arrested but for once the Authorities realised they had nothing to gain by keeping them in prison. All were granted permission to emigrate.

Exactly where they embarked from is not known. The writings of William Brewster refer only to a creek somewhere on the coast between Grimsby and Hull. One possibility was Killingholme Creek, near Immingham where a memorial stone to their endeavours stands.

They made it to Leiden in Holland where they gained the freedom to worship as they chose. Bradford lodged with the Brewster family, first in Amsterdam and then Leiden where the lived in the graphically named Stink Alley and took what work they could find.

However they were still not free from the persecutions of the English Crown and a further worry was the behaviour of the youngsters in the group.  Bradford wrote:

“Many of their children…were drawne away by evill examples into extravagante and dangerous courses.”

When Brewster published highly critical comments about James, King of England and the Church, King James launched a manhunt for him. He promptly disappeared and went underground. According to some sources Brewster gave himself up to the Dutch who refused to send him to certain death in England. Instead they told King James that they had arrested the wrong man and released him.

These events spurred the congregation to move farther from England. They looked to the New World – America.

In Holland, in 1620 they boarded The Speedwell and set out for Southampton to meet their other ship, The Mayflower one of whose passengers was to be William Brewster who came out from hiding.

The Mayflower in Plymouth Harbour by William Halsall

Further delays ensued – The Speedwell proved to be unseaworthy and both ships were forced to return first to Dartmouth and then after another unsuccessful attempt, back to Plymouth. Eventually, The Mayflower now overloaded with additional passengers set sail from Plymouth on September 6, 1620 with 102 passengers and about 30 crew members.

The weather still worked against them and they landed on the shores of Cape Cod in mid-November 1620 rather than at the designated site on the Hudson River. In the ensuing weeks the would-be settlers explored their new territory looking for a site for the permanent settlement. It was not until December 1620 that The Mayflower dropped anchor in Plymouth Harbour – the settlers opting to use the name of their departure point in England for their new home.

Richard Clyfton never made it to the New World – he remained in Amsterdam where he died in 1616. Brewster died in April 1644 and Bradford in May 1657 both having played significant roles in the colony.

To those in the New World – have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day on Thursday.

 

 

 

 

‘Like an Owl of the Desert – Lady Anne Clifford

In 1590 at Skipton Castle in Yorkshire the Countess of Cumberland, Margaret Russell gave birth to a daughter, Anne. Her father was George Clifford one of England’s heros; explorer, commander of ships during the Spanish Armada, favourite and champion of Queen Elizabeth I. However, whatever his public reputation, privately he was not much of a husband and father.

Skipton Castle Gateway

George Clifford died in 1605 when his daughter was just fifteen. His final act of neglect was to disinherit his daughter of all the land, titles and possessions of the Clifford estates. Why he did this is not clear. Perhaps he felt that the responsibilities were too much for a young lady to carry. The estate was substantial encompassing the old county of Westmoreland and parts of North Yorkshire. Five castles stood within the boundaries – Skipton to the south, Brougham in the north  with Appleby, Brough and Pendragon in between – in all some 90,000 acres.He willed his estate to his brother, Anne’s uncle Francis and his brother’s male heirs. The problem was that legally, he could not disinherit his daughter. By an entail made by an earlier Clifford, the estates were to be left to direct descendants regardless of gender. In effect George Clifford’s will was invalid and the fight was on!

George had reckoned without his daughter’s persistence, even stubborness and her very acute sense of what was due to her. Together with her mother they start a legal action in the earl marshall’s court which is dismissed. A year later in 1607 they demolish her uncle’s case and the judges decide that half the estate is rightfully hers. Her uncle however refuses to yield any of the estates.

In 1609 Anne marries the Earl of Dorset, Richard Sackville.

Richard Sackville

Like her father he is a courtier with expensive tastes and frequently empty pockets. He takes charge of the lawsuit and in 1615 the courts decide she can chose one or other half of the estates Skipton or Westmoreland but she cannot have them both. But no, Anne is adamant, she wants what she is entitled to and that is that.

The situation hots up. Anne is now subject to criticism from her friends who urge her to settle. Her husband uses both threats and fine words and she suffers an hour and a half of sermonising from the Archbishop of Canterbury. She digs her heels in.

In 1616 she buys time to relieve the pressure on her. She insists that she must discuss the settlement terms with her mother. She goes north to meet her and the response she sends back is ‘a direct denial’ to agree to the settlement. Now the situation really sizzles.

In May that year her husband tells her she may no longer live in his houses, Knowle and Bolebrooke. He sends a message saying he will see her one last time. A further letter is sent telling her to send their only child to London, to be separated from her. Then her husband changes tactics. He tries to sweeten her and delays the separation from her child. The whole affair becomes the talk of the London society and she comes in for heavy condemnation for her intransigence. All the while she is quite alone, living quietly in the country, suffering ill health whilst her husband enjoys himself, expensively, in London. She writes sadly,

‘Being condemned by most folk…I may truly say I am like an owl in the desert.’*

At the end of the month Anne loses her only ally, her mother who dies at Brougham castle.

Brougham Castle

Her husband, ever with an eye to the main chance, sends her to Brougham to take possession. Fights break out between Anne’s faithful retainers and her uncle’s men. Her husband and her cousin are set to fight a duel. The king, James I steps in. He tells her husband to fetch Anne back from the north and he, the king himself, will settle matters once and for all.

So, in January 1617 Anne finds herself back in London and summoned to the king’s presence. He asks both Anne and her husband to trust him and leave the matter in his hands. Her husband readily agrees but Anne beseeches the king to:

‘pardon me for that I would never part with Westmoreland while I lived under any conditions whatsoever.’

The king subjects her to both fair and foul means of persuasion yet still she resists. Two days later she is sent for again. This time she has not only the king and her husband to contend with but also her uncle and cousin plus any number of other nobles.  Everyone agrees to submit to the king’s judgement…except Anne. At this, she is subjected to much harassment. In Anne’s words:

‘The king flew into a great chaffe’

at which point, fearing that she might be publicly disgraced, her husband puts her out of the room. After which a settlement is agreed upon. Her uncle gets all the estates and she is awarded £17,000 compensation which is quickly snaffled by her husband. In effect she has nothing. The fight is over.

However, in all good stories there is a twist in the tale. Anne’s great great grandfather Henry was a keen astronomer and astrologer. There is a tradition that on the birth of his grandson (Anne’s grandfather) he read the stars. He predicted that this new grandson would have two sons ‘between whom and their descendants there would be great lawsuits and that the heirs male of the line should end with these two sons…or thereafter’.

And that is what happened. Anne’s uncle Francis died and the estates passed to his only son, her cousin Henry who died without a male heir.

Nearly forty years after it all began Lady Anne Clifford regained her inheritance and as she approached her sixtieth year she moved back north to claim her lands and never again left them. She died in the great chamber at Brougham castle in 1670.

Lady Anne at 58 years old

 

*’I am like an owl of the desert; loving solitude, moping among ruins, hooting discordantly.’ Psalm 102:6

 

 

Charles Waterton 1782-1865

Charles Waterton, naturalist, explorer, environmentalist and true English eccentric. I mean how else would you describe a man who, expecting dinner guests, hid under the table, growled like a dog and bit his guests’ legs?

Charles_Waterton_by_Charles_Wilson_Peale,_1824,_National_Gallery,_London

Born in 1782, into a devout Catholic family. He lived at Walton Hall in West Yorkshire, England – the house built by his father on the remains of an earlier one. He attended Stonyhurst College before completing his education abroad.  As a non-Conformist Waterton did not have the usual opportunities open to him that a man of his class would normally enjoy. He was unable to hold any public office, army commission or attend an English university.

Walton Hall, Home of Charles Waterton

So, in 1804 he travelled to British Guiana to manage his uncle’s estates near Georgetown. In 1812 he began a series of what he called “Wanderings” in South America where he recorded the local flora and fauna and hunted animals to take back to Walton.  Over time, he amassed a large collection for which he developed new a method of taxidermy and some of this collection, remarkably lifelike, survives today. He also used his skills to poke fun at the Church of England and the State.

One of Waterton’s taxidermy creations – John Bull carrying the national debt and surrounded by devils

In 1813, returning from his travels, Waterton appears to have experienced an epiphany in his relationship with wildlife.  He began to turn the park around Walton Hall into a wildlife reserve, permitting no hunting and excluding no animal except the fox and badger.  He nursed the old trees on his estate, keeping them standing when most would have felled them and planted holly hedges and ivy for nesting sites.  Wildfowl were enticed back to the lake surrounding the Hall.  He railed at his neighbours for killing dwindling species of birds.

In the 1820’s he started his most ambitious project – building a nine-foot high wall around three miles of his park to create a sanctuary not only for wildlife but also for himself.  He states in one of his essays:

“having suffered myself and learned mercy, I broke in pieces the penal laws which the knavery of the gamekeeper and the lamentable ignorance of other servants had hitherto put in force”.

In 1829 Waterton married 17-year-old Anne Edmonstone who was a granddaughter of an Arawak Indian. She died shortly after giving birth to their son Edmund when she was only 18. After her death he slept on the floor with a block of wood for a pillow,

“as self-inflicted penance for her soul!”

His two sisters-in-law came to live at Walton to look after the young Edmund. As the child grew up Waterton found it increasingly difficult to develop a father-son relationship. As a young man Edmund was lavish with money that he did not have, he had little or no interest in his father’s activities. It is quite possible that he was embarrassed by his father’s eccentricities – an embarrassment that developed perhaps into contempt as indicated by Edmund’s later actions.

Apart from family difficulties there was also the problem of the impact of growing industrialisation in the country but events brought it right to his doorstep.  Adjoining his estate was Walton Soap Works, owned by William Hodgson and Edward Simpson.  Soap manufacture, one of Victorian England’s growth industries, used particularly noxious chemicals that generated harmful pollutants and by-products.  Waterton had co-existed peacefully with his neighbours – a peace based on a gentleman’s agreement to refrain from manufacturing the actual chemicals required to make soap – a practice that made production cheaper.  However, growing consumer demand proved hard to resist.  Hodgson and Simpson reneged on the agreement.

When Hodgson died in 1840, Simpson took over entirely and the soap works flourished. He built a new chimney that belched out sulphuric acid fumes. This acid rain killed trees and hedgerows. Stinking toxic effluents accumulated in drains and oozed into nearby watercourses. Crops failed and livestock sickened.  Even the men at the works were affected.  Waterton writes in a local newspaper:

“Simpson’s operatives are the very personification of death alive.  There is not a single cherry-cheeked fresh or healthy looking man among them”.   

In 1847, Waterton declared war, starting the first of three legal campaigns against “soapy” Simpson.  This was to be no gentlemanly conflict.  Simpson was a formidable enemy.  The soap works made him a wealthy man.  He had gained respectability, becoming a local councillor, a partner in a bank and a property owner.

Simpson did not attempt to defend himself.  He was astute enough to know it was fruitless to deny, directly, the claims made against him. Instead, he used personal attacks and ridicule to undermine Waterton’s credibility. When the case came to court, it was referred to arbitration.  In the time leading up to the hearing Waterton suffered volleys of personal abuse together with random acts of violence to property and livestock.

At the eventual hearing in 1848, the verdict was double-edged.  Simpson was found guilty of negligence and given a warning.  Waterton received £1100 compensation but had to bear part of the legal costs.  Simpson carried on his business and the pollution continued unabated.

A few months later Waterton launched his second attack.  He presented a vast quantity of evidence and Simpson brought in a great squad of witnesses (who received suspiciously high expenses for their trouble) to deny the works were harmful or polluting.  This time, the arbitrator merely warned Simpson to maintain high safety standards.

In the final battle of 1850, Waterton took a more subtle approach.  Perhaps he learned a few tricks from his adversary. He discovered that Simpson wanted to expand his works and Waterton’s sister-in-law, “by chance” owned a house with land away from Walton.  How she came to do this is unclear.  Possibly Waterton bought it secretly, with a view to inducing Simpson to leave.  Waterton offered terms – the land and house in exchange for the complete closure of the Walton Soap Works.  Simpson accepted the terms and paid all legal costs.

It was a Pyrrhic victory for Waterton.  He lost trees, hedges, birds and other wildlife. Pollution fouled his lake and watercourses. He spent considerable time and money on the lawsuits. His health suffered.  Yet Simpson prospered, merely taking his work and pollution elsewhere.

Charles Waterton died in 1865 after a heavy fall. His coffin was taken across the lake to his chosen burial place. In a final ironic twist his estranged son, Edmund sold off all the valuable timber, mercilessly slaughtered the birds and game and did his best to obliterate all traces of his father’s conservation legacy.  Ultimately, he sold the estate to none other than the son of Waterton’s bitter enemy, “soapy” Simpson.

Charles Waterton’s cortege

Today, Waterton’s home is a hotel and part of Waterton’s park is once more a wildlife sanctuary.  The nearby Walton Park Wildlife Discovery Centre promotes the values of the man who advises us:

“Look close with a quiet mind.  Learn from all that you see and so try not to assert your power…”