To Market, To Market, To Sell a New Book

I’m back from a whistle-stop tour down the East Yorkshire coast where, with copies of my book about the coast “Close to the Edge” in hand and hope in my heart, I did the rounds of libraries, museums, indie bookshops, tourist offices and (thanks to a brill idea from photographer June Berridge) the large caravan parks.

It was an enjoyable if exhausting experience with lots of learning points to reflect on. So here goes.

1. You can’t prepare soon enough for your marketing activities. I had a rather fixed idea that it would be better to see people in person (and I still think so) but with that wonderful thing hindsight, I should have at least dropped an e-mail to some of the people I wished to meet. As it was, several were on holiday so I made double work for myself in having to contact them on my return. However, I’ve still managed to get the book into the three relevant libraries. I donated a copy to each of them (received with thanks in these austere times) and they will appear in the local history section. Note to self: in future go direct to the Library Acquisitions person based in local council offices.

2. Be as clear as possible about who will be likely to buy the book and think “out of the box”. June’s idea of the caravan sites, packed with tourists was a brilliant one and I was able to leave wodges of leaflets and sell some copies at those I visited.

3. Places that sell books are not likely to appreciate any promo that says “available from Amazon” on it. Doh! I made the mistake of having some flyers printed featuring the front cover of the book with just that written on it. Only the caravan parks were willing to accept them. It’s obvious now I come to think of it but the original purpose of the flyers was a different one which leads me to…

4. I had intended to use the flyers as mini-posters believing that the local supermarkets and visitor centres would let me post them on their notice boards. However, they turned out to be more useful as ‘grab and go’ leaflets so the large box of drawing pins and a wodge of blutack were redundant.

5. Be aware of the space that some potential outlets have for displaying books. The tourist offices I visited were small with little shelf space. However, I have been able to do a “sale or return” deal with one of the larger ones but even so, they don’t want to stock more than a half dozen. They take 10% of the sale price by the way.

6. Check opening times! I would have saved myself time and the price of several lattes, if I’d checked earlier for some of places I wanted to visit.

7. Have some sort of ‘pitch’ ready. I’m really uncomfortable trying to sell anything and found myself gabbling away to some poor soul that I cornered. After the first day, it went a bit smoother and by the last day I had it down pat. I wish I’d thought out what to say sooner. Be upfront about price and not apologetic and squirmy. The price is the price – take it or leave it…in the nicest possible way.

8. Listen to what potential buyers/stockists say to you. I picked up quickly on the fact that although the book covers the whole East Yorkshire coastline, the buyers/stockists wanted to know specifically whether the contents covered their specific town/village and was able to adjust what I said to them accordingly. I also found that they were able to suggest other places and people to contact that I wasn’t aware of (see 1 above) so I came back with a load of new contacts. I also learned more about stockists’ buying process and how that works.

9. This is a point I’ve read a zillion times elsewhere – it’s the cover that counts. Even if you’re doing the whole publishing shebang on a shoestring I would suggest that the biggest and best investment to make is in the cover. My cover features a photo of Spurn Point which spreads across front and back and drew a lot of positive comments – I think because it’s quite striking and a bit intriguing. But it’s the cover that buyers/stockists look at first, last and in between. They’ll riffle the pages a bit but they always come back to the cover.

Photo of Spurn Point - adapted for the cover

Photo of Spurn Point – adapted for the cover

10. Finally, if, like me, you have to travel around to do your marketing bit, have a good friend with a comfy sofa where you can flop out at night.

E-Day for “Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast”

Tomorrow the Kindle version of my history/travel book becomes available on Amazon. The Paperback is already out and some lovely people have bought it – more than I anticipated since I don’t really get into the marketing swing until 10 August when I’m back in the UK.

I thought I’d share some of the marketing ideas that I’ve put together and the responses I’ve had to them -bear in mind that this is a non-fiction book and likely to have a limited audience.

1. I’ve had A5 posters made of the cover. I spent ages agonising over the size of these – naturally I thought the bigger the better. However, the posters are going to library, museum, visitor centre and supermarket notice boards in the towns and villages down the coast that feature in the book. The decision about size was taken on the basis that there is always pressure for space and it’s far easier to remove a large poster to make more space.

2. I’ve been fortunate enough to have articles published in a number of regional magazines and I approached the editors to see whether they would review the book. As all have agreed to do so a copy is winging its way to each of them.

3. I’ve used social media to a limited extent mainly because I don’t want to put folk into a catatonic state as I rabbit on. Creative1 publishing – the company that formatted the e-book has offered to do a number of tweets about it for me and of course I use this blog, Facebook and Twitter. In addition I’ve uploaded a number of the photos from the book as well as some that didn’t make it to Pinterest – and I’ll be adding to the Board over the next few weeks.

First Spurn Lighthouse later used for storing explosives.

First Spurn Lighthouse later used for storing explosives.

4. I’ve approached the local radio station to see whether they would be interested in running a short piece as well. So far, the air waves are silent.

5. I now regularly follow some of the local newspapers to pick up any snippets of news relating to the area I’ve written about. This enables me to contribute to any debate or news item on-line without overtly touting the book.

I find, like many independent publishers/authors, that marketing is just not my thing. I shrink from banging on too much about The Book and don’t find it easy to “naturally” mention it in both on-line and direct conversations. When I’m back in the UK I’m going to a couple of independent bookshops in the area to see whether they would take the book on and that fills me with some trepidation too…and I’m not normally what you might describe as a shrinking violet. I can’t quite put my finger on why this is just yet so I’ve tried to adopt the attitude – “if you don’t ask – you’ll never get”. I also keep asking myself – “What’s the worst that could happen?” and have (perversely) rather pleasurable moments thinking up the most horrifying answers. It helps to soothe the fears.

So this is where I’m at right now. Saturday 1 August is E-Day for “Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast” – it’s also Yorkshire Day so it seems fitting. Breath is baited!

At Last!!

Close_to_the_Edge_Cover_for_Kindlejpg (2)
It’s all over bar the marketing. The paperback is up on Amazon and the e-book shortly follows – “Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast” is a reality. It’s taken around two years to get to this point and the final product is not a bit like my original idea. Perhaps that’s inevitable and I’m happy that it’s so.

There are lots of questions to ask myself when I have time to reflect a little; four big ones come to mind:
Was it worth it?
Would I do it again?
What would I do differently?
What have I learned from the experience?

Perhaps in another blog I’ll share my reflections with you. For now, I’m putting my rather sketchy marketing plan in place and I’ll be back in the UK at the end of the month to drum up some interest…well try to at any rate.
In the meantime if any of you kind souls are interested in an eclectic and occasionally irreverent history of a unique stretch of English coastline, toddle along to Amazon and have a peek.

Here’s the link (I hope) and all reviews of whatever ilk will be much appreciated.

Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast

The Gentle Art of Indie Publishing

Spurn Head

Spurn Head

Those of you who follow this blog will know that I’ve been struggling somewhat with getting my book “Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast” published and available to my eagerly waiting fans (yes all two of you). I have news for you…it’s much harder than I thought! I’m not the most gifted person when it comes to technology and the good folk at Createspace have tried to help me as much as possible but it has still taken 10 uploads of the text to get it right. Mostly the problem has been with the images, photographs in the main, and the complete mental block I have when it comes to pixels, dots per inch and other esoteric measurements. The cover has changed at least five times and the back cover blurb about three times.

However, it’s done; the mss is having its final review at Createspace; cover completed, distribution channels selected, keywords and pricing are settled; it’s been a steep learning curve. I don’t want to raise hopes (!) but I think it’s going to be August before Close to the Edge sees the light of day.

So now I turn my mind (or what’s left of it) to marketing.I must have read half a dozen books and a zillion articles about “how to do it and what to do” and am left feeling that it’s a full-time job. So how does one market a non-fiction, local history book?

At first I thought only in terms of a local niche market – local residents and tourists. This has now expanded somewhat and my “audience” hit list includes ex-pats in Europe who were once connected with/have an interest in the area; emigrants to the US, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. How do I reach them? The classic answer is through social media and apart from this blog and my Facebook pages I’ve started to explore Pinterest. I think I need to learn how to use Twitter effectively too. I’d be very happy to hear from anyone who has survived their first book marketing project and is willing to share their experiences and tips.

In the next few weeks – if you happen to be out and about in East Yorkshire (and why wouldn’t you be) you may well see some tasteful flyers for the book in indie bookshops, libraries, museums and hopefully in one or two visitor centres. I have yet to discover how to persuade these cash-strapped organisations to actually buy some copies for resale and what sort of a deal can be done between us but I’m working on it.

I’ve also approached some regional and local magazines, newspapers and, when I get to it, local radio stations to see whether they would do a review or give me a few column-inches/air time. So far a deafening silence but I live in hope.

All in all August looks like being pretty hectic but, who knows, it could also be a whole lot of fun.

PS Just got a “Yes happy to review” from the Editor at The Dalesman. Thank you Adrian.

I’m Almost There!

Almost where? I hear you ask. Answer – ready to upload “Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast” which, at the risk of driving you into mild catalepsy is my local history book about the East Coast of Yorkshire.

The Holderness Coast, East Yorkshire

The Holderness Coast, East Yorkshire

The book has taken around 18 months of research, writing and faffing, including an abortive sojourn at a publishing house (for which, if I’m honest I still bear a grudge). On reflection a good lump of that time was taken up with editing, copy reading, obtaining permissions/rights and I still worry that someone will find a typo.

On doing yet another re-read last night it was good to remember how many people and organisations have indirectly contributed – not in the least local museums and libraries. I know these invaluable institutions are under threat from “austerity measures” in the UK so I wanted to use this space to give a shout to some of them and urge anyone looking to spend a bit of time on this eroding coastline to go and visit.

So roll of honour:

Hornsea Museum situated in an old farmhouse in the centre of the town. Don’t be deceived by the apparent smallness of the building – it takes a good while to get round and is packed full of great exhibits. (Sorry Hornsea Museum – I don’t have a photo of you.)

Withernsea Lighthouse Museum – situated – yes you’ve guessed it in Withernsea. It stands, a little incongruously in the middle of the town and has some interesting coastguard and RNLI displays and selections of old photographs relating to local history.

Withernsea Lighthouse and Museum

Withernsea Lighthouse and Museum

The Bayle Museum in Bridlington is located in the old gateway to Bridlington Priory, itself a victim of his royal humpingness, Henry VIII. It is dedicated to the history of the town of Bridlington.

The Bayle Gate, Bridlington

The Bayle Gate, Bridlington

All three museums give a great flavour of times past on the coast and are open now, for the season. Check websites for details.

In addition to the museums I made shameless use of three libraries when researching “Close to the Edge” – these were Hornsea, Bridlington and Beverley libraries. Since libraries seem to be becoming endangered species I’d just like to say that without their helpful staff and the ability to plunder their resources I wouldn’t have been able to write “Close to the Edge.” Thank you one and all.

Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast is scheduled for publication as an e-book on 1 June and will be available from Amazon – that is gremlins permitting.

Sneak Preview

Today I thought I’d let you have a look at some of the photos used in my forthcoming book – Close to the Edge – Tales from the Holderness Coast.

For those of you who don’t know the area (or even the country – UK that is) the Holderness Coast is a strip of East Yorkshire coastline that has both a remarkable past and an uncertain future. The problem is coastal erosion which has seen more than 30 villages and settlements disappear or “gone back to the sea” and the erosion continues today.

Close to the Edge is an eclectic and sometimes irreverent collection of tales about people, places and events along the coastline.

Have a peek at some of the photos taken by my co-conspirator in this enterprise – June Berridge.

Ruins of WW1 Fort Godwin at Kilnsea, East Yorkshire

Ruins of WW1 Fort Godwin at Kilnsea, East Yorkshire

Where'd the road go? Aldbrough, East Yorkshire

Where’d the road go? Aldbrough, East Yorkshire

Remains of wartime observation post tipped over the cliff onto Mappleton beach

Remains of wartime observation post tipped over the cliff onto Mappleton beach

It’s Never Plain Sailing

This morning I’m feeling a bit like one of the many wrecks to be found off the Holderness coast so I thought I’d share my pain with you and give you what might be the final tale from these shores. This is a cautionary tale of what can happen at sea even in favourable conditions.

It was just three weeks into the New Year of 1911 when the steam trawler SS Silverdale with nine hands aboard left the Port of Grimsby heading for the North Sea fishing grounds. A few days later, with a full catch in her hold, she began her homeward voyage arriving off Spurn Point early in the morning of 4th February. There she stopped for about an hour and waited for the tide. The weather was fine and clear; the sea was smooth.

Members of the Silverdale crew observed lights from other ships around this busy seaway where vessels made for the ports of Hull and Grimsby. Shortly after getting under way again to complete the last leg of their voyage back to Grimsby, they also heard blasts from a warning whistle and, almost immediately after, a loud crash. The Silverdale shuddered as the trawler Straton struck her amidships.

In the dark confusion that followed the Skipper George Grice shouts at the other trawler that the Silverdale was sinking and to come about for a rescue; Frank Foster, the chief engineer, knocked off his feet in the collision picks himself up and staggers onto deck calling out that the engine room was full of water; he and the mate, John Walling try to release the lifeboat but the stern of the Silverdale sinks quickly, in the space of just a couple of minutes and they find themselves in the freezing waters. The other crew members cling to wreckage, calling for help.

At the subsequent Court of Inquiry, the captain of the Straton, Daniel Jacob Joenson, stated he and his ship were returning from a voyage to the Faroes and heading homewards. When the ship arrived off Withernsea the Captain laid up there until around 4am when he gave the order to get the ship underway again, steaming at slow ahead. As the vessel approached Spurn he saw the lights of the Silverdale some half to a mile off and left the shelter of the wheelhouse to check his own side and masthead lights which he found to be burning brightly.

On returning to the wheelhouse he noticed that the Silverdale lights were showing much nearer and the vessel was on a course heading straight for the Straton. He sounded the warning whistle and, at the same time, rang down instructions to the engine room for full speed astern. However there was only just time to thrust the ship into reverse before the two vessels collided.

After the collision, the Straton re-bounded from the Silverdale and Joenson brought her about to look for survivors; other trawlers nearby steamed to the rescue alerted by the crew of the Spurn Lightship who sent up rockets and fired guns to attract their attention.

Of the Silverdale’s original nine-man crew only four survivors – Foster and Walling together with deck hand Robert Hicks who floated in the water clinging to a lifebuoy and James Wright the steward who clung to a deck fish pound board were picked up.

Of those lost, the Skipper was last seen heading for the wheelhouse and was presumed to have gone down with his ship and the four other crew members clung to wreckage for a short while but sadly succumbed to exhaustion and the dark, icy cold waters of the North Sea before they could be rescued.

The Inquiry concluded that both vessels, to different degrees had failed to comply with the Regulations for the Prevention of Collisions at Sea and that the Silverdale was not “navigated with proper and seamanlike care.” Despite some strictures laid upon the captain of the Straton the Court held the opinion that the loss of the Silverdale and some of its crew members was not caused by any “wrongful act or default of the Skipper of the Straton.”


An Ordinary Man of Principle

This is a tale of an ordinary fisherman whose convictions and integrity withstood all that the power of the British Royal Navy could throw at him and touched the lives of some of the tough men around him.

The 17th century saw the rise of non-conformism across England and one of the earliest sects was the Society of Friends – the Quakers. A visit by George Fox to Holderness in 1651 kindled interest in the beliefs and principles of the Friends. Up and down the coast a small tireless group took The Word to villages and hamlets and one man, a fisherman from Kilnsea by the name of Richard Sellars heard The Word.

At the time Britain was at war with the Dutch and the British Navy was always on the lookout for new recruits.  One way of obtaining these recruits was through the pressgang – an ugly form of conscription that allowed gangs to take law-abiding citizens in ports and coastal villages and whisk them away to serve, willy-nilly in the Royal Navy ships.

The Press Gang

The Press Gang

In 1665, the pressgang caught Richard. He refused to go on board the ketch that was collecting up these new crews and was badly beaten before being hoisted onto the ship with a tackle. The ketch worked on behalf of the Ship of the Line the Royal Prince and it took Richard and the other pressganged men to the Nore – a sandbank at the mouth of the River Thames and an assembly point for the navy. There Richard was again hauled aboard the Royal Prince and the following day was ordered to work at the capstan. This he refused to do. Quakers were, and are, pacifists.

His stance was a brave one given the harsh conditions men of the King’s Navy worked under. Richard received a flogging from the boatswain and then the Captain sent for him, demanding to know why he would not fight for the King. Richard’s reply was a gentle one:

“I told him I was afraid to offend God, therefore I could not fight with carnal weapons.”

The Captain replied to this piety with yet another flogging before one of the crew begged for mercy on Richard’s behalf. To which plea the Captain replied:

“He is a Quaker and I will beat his brains out”.

According to Richard’s account, three days later Sir Edward Spragge, the Admiral came aboard the Royal Prince and learned that a Quaker had been pressed. He learned too that the boatswain’s mate had refused to flog Richard further and so demoted him and took his cane – a mark of his position on board –from him. The man appears to have been thankful to have been relieved of his office.

The Admiral, perhaps fearing the subtle influence Richard’s principled stand was having on some of the crew, took a hard line. He called the whole ship’s company together and, in front of them clapped Richard in irons. He then addressed the crew, saying:

“…take notice there is a man called a Quaker, who is to be laid in irons during the king’s pleasure and mine, for refusing to fight and to eat of the king’s victuals; therefore I charge you all and every man, that none of you sell or give him any victuals, meat, drink, or water, for if you do, you shall have the same punishment.”

Despite this warning some members of the crew treated Richard kindly particularly the carpenter’s mate who surreptitiously tried to share his rations with him. However there were others who continued to abuse him to such an extent that one of the younger officers, risking his whole career, went to the Admiral to ask him to put an end to the ill use. The Admiral called a council of the captains of his fleet. As a compromise, they offered him a place on a small ship that acted as a tender. Richard declined this way out and said he would not fight and he would stay on board the Royal Prince and see out his punishment. With no other alternative, the Admiral then sentenced Richard to death.

When this was generally known some of the crew begged for Richard’s life. Again this was a brave act on their part – to plead for a convicted criminal’s life to their Admiral risked their lives as well.

The following day, with the noose hanging from the yard arm at eight o’clock, Richard stepped forward to meet his fate and, ultimately, his Maker. But as he stepped onto the gunwale, Admiral Spragge called for silence. In an extraordinary twist of events, he proclaimed Richard a free man – “as free as any on board the ship”. Why he did this is not clear. Did his conscience stir him? Was he concerned about the effect on his crew that the hanging of a pious man who had done nothing more than hold to his beliefs would have? Whatever his reason, he had cause later to be thankful that he gave Richard his life back.

A few days whilst the ship engaged the Dutch, Richard, now a non-combatant averted certain disaster at least twice by warning of shoals and fire ships and during the battle he carried the wounded away off the decks and down to the surgeon. His actions drew the attention of the Admiral who remarked afterwards:

“It would have been a great pity had his life been taken before the engagement.”

When the ship eventually sailed back to England, the Admiral gave Richard his freedom and instructed the Captain of the Royal Prince to write out a certificate to that effect. From there, the quiet fisherman disappears into the mists of time.

Worthy of his Hire

As one who has spent her professional life preaching good recruitment practice to managers the Martinmas Hirings of the East Riding piqued my interest. I know I’m a bit late for Martinmas but at least I’m just in the right month.

In the 19th and early 20th centuries, one annual recruitment event was the week of  the Hirings where those looking for work on farms gathered to be looked over by those seeking workers.

Farm work provided employment for many youngsters; both boys and girls could start their working lives from as young as twelve or thirteen. Farm servants’ contracts ran for one year from Martinmas Day. Wages were not paid until the end of the year and as they were handed out anyone well-regarded by the farmer would be asked to stay on for another year. Mostly the lads moved on to gain experience.

Those lads that did leave their “spot” took themselves off to the nearest market town where the annual Hiring fair was held. All spruced up and dressed in their best, they stood in the market place, preening, parading and grinning self-consciously whilst the farmers  walked up and down assessing and questioning them.

After a bout of bargaining settled the wage the lads “fastened” themselves for the coming year by accepting a coin, usually a shilling. If the coin was not returned by the end of the day, then a legal contract had been established which could not be broken.

The Hirings were the only time the farm servants had a holiday and once the main business was done, they were ready to rumble. The Hiring towns were crowded with folk, especially young people, all ready for some action. With a year’s wages rattling in pockets, there was shopping to be done, friends to catch up with, debts to be paid and old scores to be settled in the back alleys. After a year, isolated on the farm, seeing the same faces day in, day out, the opportunity to let off a bit of steam was too good to miss. The town’s shopkeepers did a roaring trade as did the pubs and a funfair usually came to town as well to add to the week’s excitement. Providing things didn’t get too far out of hand the local law had the sense to keep away but the week was a sore trial to the local clergy.

The Hirings system continued into the early years of the twentieth century until changes in farming practices brought the system to an end and ended a way of life which, on the whole, had served communities, families and individuals well.


Grimston’s Yeomanry Rides Again

I’ve been hard at work this past week trying to get the house ready to put on the market but in between times I met the redoubtable Thomas Grimston who in the late 18th century created the Grimston Yeomanry to defend the Holderness (East Yorkshire) coast against those “demmed Frenchies”. Here’s a snippet from his story.

The threat of a French invasion of England loomed large during the years of the Napoleonic wars and so the bigwigs in the East Riding of Yorkshire set about raising companies of volunteers to swell the military numbers.

Step forward one, Thomas Grimston of …er…Grimston, patriot, aristo and horseman who, at his own expense, raised a volunteer cavalry force. He tirelessly travelled the whole of Holderness explaining his plans to the locals. When his rousing words of recruitment fell on deaf ears he asked the local clergy to call parish meetings so that the importance and purpose of the proposed cavalry could be clearly explained to the bashful locals. Once more he was disappointed. In a letter he received explaining this lack of enthusiasm he was told:

“what they object to is the smallness of the pay, from which circumstances one may, I think, infer two things. First they are aware of the necessity of the Measure and secondly, in return for their services, they expect a valuable consideration adequate at least to the profits arising from labour.”

In other words – when it comes to asking Yorkshiremen to volunteer, you really can’t have “summat fer nowt”.

Eventually though, in 1794 Thomas enrolled around forty men and Grimston’s Yeomanry were ready to ride.

Thomas kitted out his men:

  • leather helmet, with bearskin crest, plume of buff feathers and decorated with four small chains to deflect sabre cuts;
  • jacket – short, scarlet with buff facings and silver braid;
  • Whitened leather crossbelt with a plate engraved with ERYC and the motto pro aris et focis (for hearth and home) topped with a crown;
  • White breeches and black riding boots.

The whole ensemble was then accessorised with a sabre and pistol.

grimstons yeomanry

Running a cavalry force didn’t come cheap. The sabres and pistols alone, assuming no fancy additions would cost him around £115, about £11,000 in today’s money.

Having solved the recruitment and equipment issues only one problem remained for Thomas to solve. Every decent cavalry unit needed a shiny trumpet to sound the charge but sadly Thomas could not lay his hands on one. However, his brother-in-law Richard Ledgard came to his rescue in 1795 and from the accompanying letter, one can only assume that his neighbours would have been pleased to see the back of it:

“…have been blasting all my neighbours this hour past…the cord is crimson and buff, very neat…the price is 3 ½ guineas, ½ guinea the string, together 4 guineas. What a tremendous sound they produce. It puts me in mind of what we are to expect at our latter end.”

By the turn of the century the Holderness coast swarmed with volunteer corps who provided much needed support to the regular forces and the militia but the signing of the Peace Preliminaries in October 1801 reduced the need for such strength and vigilance and many of the volunteer units including Grimston’s Yeomanry were disbanded or stood down. This was premature however and in May the following year war was declared again.

Thomas Grimston’s disbanded Yeomanry rode again, now doubled up to two troops, and they charged up and down the Holderness coast looking out for the enemy. But they were a hospitable lot towards civilians although, as this brief diary entry from a Mr Dunn of Patrington shows, perhaps catering was not all it should have been or perhaps it was just too good!

“5th June – Took chaise for Bridlington to see Grimston Troop.

6th June – went to see the troops at exercise. Came on to rain. Dined with the officers in the Mess.

7th June – very ill until noon.”

The 1807 Local Militia Act saw the end of many of the volunteer forces as it incorporated a provision that any effective member of a volunteer or yeomanry corps had to serve at his own expense and pay a fee to continue to serve. Whilst many men would have continued to serve they could not afford to pay the fee.

Needless to say,  Thomas Grimston’s gallant Yeoman Cavalry survived  as a unit for a few more years before galloping into the sunset in 1814.


Thomas Grimston