Ledger Frontispiece

The Ledgers provide a remarkable primary source of information on the people of Rye and of the practicesof a Sexton during the mid period of the 19th Century. 

There are a considerable number of entries of burials in Rye Churchyard each noted with the date, the name of the deceased and how the burial was conducted – with many names familiar to us who live in the town today.  They include James Dengate’s own burial on October 31^st 1833.  

It is clear who was a high status person from the trappings of the burial – some with knells and tolling bells others much simpler.  Each entry details the fees for the burial. There are copious burials of infants but, of the adult population, there are also many for people who lived into their late 80s and even into their 90s, challenging the often- held belief that life expectancy in the 19th Century was short.   

These ledgers will provide genealogists with considerable information about the population of Rye – as well as provide information on tragedies in the area, as there are entries for sailors and fishermen who perished at sea.    

Death/burial of King George IV

Another interesting aspect of the ledgers are the entries for the deaths and burials of major national figures – which clearly required local activity to mark them.  There are, for example, entries for the deaths of George IV and William IV and also for the burial of the Duke of Wellington.  There is also considerable genealogical information about the Dengate family of Rye but the involvement of Dengate’s wife has not been fully established. It is clear however from these Ledgers that she continued in the role of Sexton to the Parish after her husband’s death, providing an unbroken family tradition for almost 30 years.  

The Ledgers have been scanned and put onto a CD which members of the public can  purchase for £10. 

If anyone wishes to contribute to the costs of this Acquisition, or to the Museum’s Acquisition Fund, so that purchases of similar documents or artifacts vital to the history of our Town can be made when the Museum is aware of them, please contact Rye Castle Museum at 3 East Street, Rye or email them on info@ryemuseum.co.uk.  

Receiving the ledgers

THE FIRST JEAKES OF RYE

Of Huguenot origin, the family’s first settler in Rye appears to have been a late 16th-century merchant, William Jeaque (a possible corruption of Jacques). His son Henry set up a bakery in the High Street and married a girl from Peasmarsh. Their son, first recorded as Sammewell but later as Samuel, became a freeman of Rye and its Town Clerk. He bought for a guinea the entire collection of statutes belonging to the borough, and from them produced a scholarly volume, The Charters of the Cinque Ports, Two Ancient Towns and their Members. Throughout his life he remained a staunch Presbyterian – or Dissenter – which was no hindrance during the Cromwellian years, but caused him trouble after the Restoration of Charles II, when the Act of Uniformity denied freedom of worship and preaching – “holding forth” -by Nonconformists. Threatened with prosecution in 1682, Jeake fled to London, where he was joined in hiding by his son and daughter-in-law the following year. The son returned warily to Rye in 1684, but his father did not risk it until James II introduced a more tolerant regime, followed by further relaxation under William and Mary.

SAMUEL JEAKES II

This son, Samuel Jeake II, was equally firm in his Presbyterian beliefs, but also had an incongruous interest in astrology. As a hard-headed merchant in wool, hops, money-lending and shrewd investments, he nevertheless turned to the stars for guidance before deciding to become one of the first subscribers to the newly formed Bank of England. Sustaining no injury after hitting his head against a door, he ascribed this to the relative positions of the planets at the time. Contemplating marriage, he worked out the details of the dowry he expected from the young lady’s widowed mother, but was not confident of the girl’s own response until “the Cluster of Planets . . . seem’d to shew a successful time for such addresses.” As a result, at the age of 29 he married Elizabeth Hartshorne, daughter of the late headmaster of the Grammar School in High Street, when she was 13 years of age. Always prone to depression, ague and other ailments, shortly after the betrothal he was “surprised . . . with excessive Melancholy, which lasted all September and October” during which “there arose great displeasure & difference between me and my intended Mother in Law and Wife.” Not a good omen for wedded bliss ! But by November he had recovered, and for once thanked God rather than a conformation of planets.

Samuel II followed in his father’s footsteps by being made a freeman of Rye in 1690, but the very next day sent his mother-in-law and daughter out of the town because of the scare of a French invasion. He and his wife remained “since my little Boy was this morning taken sick of a feaver, & very bad, so that he could not be carried without danger of his Life.” When no attack was forthcoming, he ascribed this to heavenly intervention, and sketched the horoscope in his diary.

This diary contains day-by-day accounts of his business dealings and local events, each entry preceded by the astrological symbol for the day. Personal matters such as his marital relations and quarrels were camouflaged in a form of shorthand as tricky as Samuel Pepys’s, but solved and transcribed in the 20th century.

Among the children of Samuel and Elizabeth Jeake was another Samuel, derided locally as “a Conjuror.” He was reputed to have built a flying machine which unfortunately failed to fly. Rye’s most revered historian, William Holloway, records in the mid 19th century that he had known men who had seen the remains of the machine in the attic of the Grammar School.

Hartshorn House c1870

THE OLD HOSPITAL

On the north side of Mermaid Street is a half-timbered Tudor building with three overhanging gables, called the Old Hospital because of its service in that capacity during the Napoleonic wars. In earlier times it had been Hartshorne House, given to Samuel Jeake II as part of his dowry on marrying the young Elizabeth Hartshorne, whereupon it became generally known as Jcake’s House – confusing for later historians

Samuel and his father took possession of this property several months before the actual wedding, though the younger man complained repeatedly before and after marriage about mischievous spirits of a rather inferior order groaning and sighing about his bed and playing pranks with his walking sticks.
As trade prospered, he determined to build a wool storehouse on the other side of the street, and consulted the stars regarding the most propitious date.

JEAKE’S HOUSE  Precisely at noon on 13th June 1689,, the foundation of the storehouse, which is now simply called Jeake’s House, was laid, “the first stone by myself under this positure of heaven.” A stone plaque set high in the front wall of the present building shows the astrological aspect of the heavens which he found so crucial.

Samuel and Elizabeth had six children, all of whom died without issue. Towards the end of his own life in 1699 at the age of 47, Samuel II planned to erect a Nonconformist meeting-house next door to his wool store. After his death his widow remarried, and through her daughter Philadelphia their family home, Hartshorne House, descended eventually to the Frewen family, a respected name in Rye. Elizabeth completed the task of building the meetinghouse, and licence for its opening was granted in 1703.

QUAKERS’ HOUSE

In 1704 the Quakers, flourishing in and around Rye, bought the meetinghouse and laid out a burial ground behind it. In 1753 it was bought by the Baptists, in such a derelict state that it had to be virtually demolished and rebuilt in its present form. The baptistry still exists below the floor of the dining room; but guests eating breakfast need not fear a sudden plunge into the water. Jeake’s House itself later became the Baptist schoolroom. Elizabeth Fry, the Quaker prison reformer, visited during a tour of Sussex, and is believed to have addressed the congregation. In 1909 the Baptists built a new chapel in Cinque Ports Street, and their Mermaid Street buildings were sold off. Jeake’s House became a private residence, while the, meeting-house served for several years as St. Mary’s Men’s Club.

Adjoining the meeting-house, this was also known as the Minister’s House. One incumbent, the Rev. Purdy, had the building consecrated so that he could hold services there after a schism with his congregation. In the 20th century it became a private residence, the property of the painter Perugini, and for a time before and after the Second World War was the home of the great-uncle of the present proprietor, Jenny Hadfield, before its present amalgamation with the Jeake’s House complex.

FAMILIES AND VISITORS

In January 1924 the American poet, novelist and critic Conrad Aiken bought Jeake’s House for £1700 – “So vast, so tall the establishment that we are sure that at the end of a year we shall encounter, here and there, rooms unnoticed before, filled with mice and foul with bats, squealing with rats and roped with webs, littered with bones and stinking of ghosts.” As time went on he changed his mind, referring to it as his “deeply cherished home … lighted by laughter, the kind of light that never goes out.” Certainly the present owner will have no truck with bats, rats or malodorous phantoms.

In 1928 Aiken also bought the Men’s Club and began the task of combining the two which has been further developed today. He was visited by local and American friends, including Dame Laura Knight, E. F. Benson, Thomas Hardy’s widow, T. S. Eliot, and the wayward Malcolm Lowry, with whom he had many protracted drinking sessions.

In more recent vears, Patrick Moore stayed here while lecturing on astrology and astronomy in connection with the 300th anniversary of the founding of Jeake’s House. It is frequently used as a base by visiting members of the Tilling Society, devoted to the works of E. F. Benson, who disguised Rye under the name of Tilling (after the local River Tillingham) in the Mapp and Lucia novels written while he lived in Lamb House, round the corner in West Street.

Jeake's House

They Took Over The Town Hall

Slightly adapted from an article in Rye’s Own 161 ( Dec 2007)  

Seeds of revolt

By 1825 the Lamb family had dominated politics in Rye for 100 years, providing the Mayor 23 times out of the 25 since the turn of the century, Most of the jurats and freeman were either family or supporters. This had been achieved by the ‘Freeman’ system introduced in the days when Rye played a very active part in building, maintaining and manning the Cinque Ports Fleet. There were about 40 Freemen of Rye and only a Freeman had a vote. 

To become enfranchised there were only two ways. By birth as the eldest surviving son of a Freeman or by election.  One citizen a year was voted in as a Freemen by Jurats and Freemen on Mayoring Day.  It became a natural thing for other educated men who resided and had businesses in Rye to protest against a system that was not democratic and given to corruption.  In that year of 1825 a movement began in Rye which eventually led to ‘greater democracy  over the whole country. 

Leaders of the revolt were the Meryon Family, descendents of French Huguenots and trade rivals of the Lambs. They were assisted by William Holloway, later to write Holloway’s History of the Town and Port of Rye and Dr. Charles Lewis Meryon of London.  Holloway and Dr. Meryon’s researches supplied the historical ammunition on which the forthcoming campaign would be based. 

On the 4 May 1825 over  fifty ‘Men of Rye’ as they named themselves, applied to a King’s Judge and were granted the right to take the oath of allegiance and be admitted to all rights and privileges belonging to the town. Their names were enrolled. They requested to be admitted to future meetings of the Corporation but their request was refused.  On the 15 May over twenty more householders took the oath and had their names enrolled. 

Two elections, Two mayors

Nothing more happened until 28 October. Early that morning the men of Rye made th eir way to the spot in the Churchyard where  the old cross had stood and where, tradition had it, elections had previously taken place. Among the party were two Freemen, John Meryon and William Prosser. who  owed no allegiance to the Lamb’s as they had been admitted as Freemen by birthright. An election was held with Mr. Meryon voting for himself and Mr. Prosser voting for Mr. Meryon.  John Meryon was nominated as Mayor of Rye. 

No one knows how much the Lamb administration knew of the ‘goings-on’ at the sign of the old cross but the following Monday when they met to vote in the Rev. William Dodson,.(a non-resident Freeman related to the Lambs by marriage) as the new Mayor, the Meryon party were there and demanded that their man  be sworn in as Mayor. All hell broke loose. The request was refused by the retiring Mayor, William Phillip Lamb, and amidst the hubbub, Mr. Whitton, the Men of Rye’s solicitor, swore in John Meryon as Mayor.  John Meryon and his party then retired from the Chamber and Rev. Dobson was elected by the supporters of the Lamb’s. 

John Meryon returned to the Town Hall on 7 September and his party requested that Mr. Dobson swore Meryon in as the true Mayor of Rye. This request was refused but the fun was not to end there. 

On Tuesday, 18 October, the  Men of Rye gathered in Market Street to enter the Town Hall.  They  were admitted ; we know not  by whom. Suffice to say that John Meryon, accompanied by his 12 jurats, all clad in scarlet robes, entered the Hall and barricaded themselves in. Shortly afterwards . Dobson and his jurats arrived and demanded the bench be vacated to them but the boot was on the other foot and they were refused entry. They retired to Mountsfield Lodge, the residence of W. P. Lamb, to consider their position. 

For six weeks ‘Mayor’ John Meryon resided at the Town Hall, doing the work of the council.  He administered justice and even held an inquest on a man who had hanged himself

The short Mayoralty of John Meryon and his jurats came to an end when a King’s Court order required them to hand the Town Hall back to the legal Mayor.  They vacated the Chamber leaving all intact but important information _,had been gleaned from the papers held at the Town-Hall,  including proof of a pact that had been signed by five jurats as far back as 1758  to ensure the Lamb faction would always win elections.- 

This was but the start of the battle. A newspaper “he Rye Gazette, claimed by some to be a ‘scandalous rag,, fought on the side of the reformers.  But despite the pressure to extend the franchise, progress was very slow because  new Freemen came mainly from friends and supporters of the Lambs . There was  still a great discontentment among sections of the Rye community.  

Last reading of the Riot Act

The discontent was amplified in 1830 when local farmers, who were unhappy about the new lock being built to dam off the Military Canal,  were supported by the people of Rye and, in a desperate show of their disenchantment with the system as much as in support of the farmers, did £3,000 worth of damage (a huge sum in that time) to Scots Float Sluice. The Riot Act was read and bullets were fired over the heads of the rioters before they dispersed. This was the last recorded time the Riot Act was read and thaccompanying guns actually fired in England. Whatever the justification it proves that Ryer’s are  very determined lot when they are roused.

Change was demanded throughout the Cinque Ports by this time and soon the whole country was following Rye’s lead and demanding reform.

End of a dynasty

In 1832 William Phillip Lamb became the last of the family to lead the Corporation, the dynasty reached back over 100 years to 1723 when James Lamb was elected Mayor of Rye. During those years a Lamb had occupied the Mayoral seat no less than 73 times!  It all came to an end with the Reform Act of 1836. The men of Rye saw their efforts bear fruit and a wider franchise resulted in a fairer society.

A Celebration Reform Dinner was held at The George Hotel where Colonel Evans told the assembled guests, which included many of the original ‘Men of Rye’ that “The odious system is destroyed. The Nation’s liberties are won. Words cannot adequately express the feelings this happy event inspires.”

John Meryon never became Mayor but forty six years later another member of the Meryon family, Charles Pix Meryon, did.  Charles is now best remembered for bequeathing what we know as the Further Education Centre on Lion Street to the town of Rye in perpetuity for educational purposes but he has another claim to local fame:    Just one year after the death of Reform leader William Holloway in 1870, Charles was elected Mayor and was to become the longest incumbent of Rye’s Mayoral seat in the history of the town. He was elected for nine consecutive years and only vacated the seat on his death in December 1879.    Cherles had married Mary Brocket( 1827-1906) in 1866 in London.  Unfortunately a single child died young so there was not another Meryon to carry the name.

End note:

 There is more to be told in future posts about the Meryon family of  Rye,, in particular Dr Charles Meryon, physician and companion to Lady Hester Stanhope, niece  and companion of Prime Minister William Pitt  the Younger (who became Warden of the Cinque Ports) during many of her yearas intrepid traveller in the Middle East where she was known as ‘Queen of the Desert’;     and  Dr Edward Meryon,  an eminent physician who made a systematic study of muscular dystrophy (Duchenne’s disease) some years before the man after whom the disease was named. (Many think it should have been called Meryon’s diseease.)   As for Charles Pix Meryon, he did not die a poor man. His  executors were William and Edwin Dawes who valued  his estate  at £46,199 10s 2d.’   Charles’  widow Mary  resumed her maiden name in 1896 to become Lady of Spains Hall in accordance with her father’s will.

With acknowledgements to William Holloway’s History of Rye and Leopold Vidler’s New History of Rye.

from Edwardian Rye from contemporary photographs by Geoffrey S Bagley (Rye Museum Association 1974)

This summary of  life in Rye 100 years ago is the Introduction to our former  Curator’s book on the subject; he wrote much else about Rye’s history besides. Edwardian Rye is one of the Museum’s  top selling publications and is available at both sites at only £2.50.  It contains many vintage photographs with appropriate explanations.

Edward the Seventh’s reign, 1901 to 1910, was not a prolongation of Victorian character. Rather, it was an even progression of the late Victorians into the new century, the only real disturbance being the South African War with its after effects on the life and thoughts of the British people.

Reigns usually commence with a coronation.  Edward VII’s was no exception other than it somewhat unusually suffered a postponement due to His Majesty’s importunate appendicostomy, an occurrence that must have thrown many an organiser completely off balance. . . .

On 29 January, 2001, a Proclamation of Accession was read from the steps of Rye Town Hall and from beneath the Landgate, ” . . . ‘King’s Weather prevailing2, reported the Sussex Agricultural Express, “with a right royal brilliance . . . . “   Preparations were soon afoot for celebration, and in official celebrations official robes were of importance.

By 4 February 1902, Dover Dyeing and Cleaning Works were writing to Rye’s Town Clerk: “The coming Coronation festivities will doubtless call for the frequent appearance of public bodies in Official Robes.  May we suggest it would be well to entrust us at once with yours, that we may put in hand any Cleaning and Renovation that they may need . .  . .”   On 19 February, a London firm of “Music, Dramatic and Variety Agents” wrote: “In view of the festivities in connection with the approaching coronation of H.M. King Edward VII . . . we beg to intimate that we have a large variety of artistes on our books . . . we can also supply Military Bands and Instrumentalists of every description.”

The Town Clerk received also an intimation from the Lord Lieutenant of Sussex that there was a general desire to celebrate the approaching Coronation by “Bonfires in Sussex.” Enclosed with this official communication was a diagram on how to make a suitable bonfire.

Rye had its coronation festivities well arranged for June, only to overprint on its elaborate programme (price 2d), an announcement that the event was postponed until August. 

August festivities over, the town returned to normality.  When studying Deacon’s Popular Almanac and Directory for 1902 one cannot but be imprerssed by the variety of services available for the convenience of the contemporary inhabitant of Rye.

All the municipal personnel from the Mayor to the Ferryman were listed, as were officers of the law from the Recorder to the Keeper of the Lock-up.  In addition, there was a Sussex County Court in Rye with Judge, Registrar and High Bailiff.  Other amenities were the “Post Office Arrangements”, a Fire Brigade — with a Captain, and ten places of worship.  Ancillary to the latter there was the Rye Cemetery.  “The payments for Interments vary–For Parishiners £1.9s.6d.and for Children and Infants 9s. to 6s.6d.”  Insurance agents were plentiful, numbering thirty-two.  Carriers to and from Rye served twenty-four towns and villages.  For those with a taste for military life there was a local company of the lst Cinque Ports Volunteer Rifles and a Rye troop of thre Sussex Imperial Yeomanry.

Sport was catered for by the Rye Cycling Club, Rye and East Guldeford Coursing Club, Rye Football Club, Rye Cricket Club, Rye Athletic Club, Rye Quadrille Club and Rye Annual Regatta.

There were six Benefit Societies, and a Protection Association of the Licenced Victuallers and Beer and Wine Trades.

Education was cared for by three schools (other than dame) and an organisation for Technical Instruction was in being, producing such classes as  Carpentery and Joinery at Mr Hugget’s Workshoop . . . Shorthand and Geometrical Drawing at the Grammar School   . . .  Ambulance at the Town Hall . . . ”

The diretory included, also, descriptions of day and night tide signals, and “Cautionary Storms Signals”.   Dues on ships and fishing boats were given including those “For Windbound Vessels for each mooring post 2s.6d.”  Crane dues were “3d. per ton, stone and timber; 2s6d. per mast under 100 tons; 3s over 100 tons”.

“Post Office Arrangements” informed that “the box closes at 9:15 p.m. (London) including Sundays, last parcel post 9 p.m.”  The Telegraph Office was “open for the transmission of messages 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. on week days and on Sundays from 8 to 10 a.m.”

Rye was, and is, beloved by artists.  A news’-sheet of the turn of the century might convey the impression that they were not always welcome in the town.  It reported that there had been complaints from lady artists, who had been ordered off the pavement by the police. The Police Superintendent assured the Borough Bench that he would see to the matter.  Henry James, who, in English Hours, described Rye as “being in truth a rudimentary drawing lesson” was aware of this aspect of the life of the town, remarking that “There are ancient doorsteps that are fairly haunted  . . .  and where the fond proprietor, going and coming, has to pick his way among paraphernalia or to take flying leaps over genius and industry”.

The Rye of Henry James, and hundreds of his co-inhabitants, has gone forever, particulrly that peace and measured pace not only of Rye and England, but of a Europe wherein legal and fiscal formalities were minimal for travellers.

Memories of that era are worth preserving, be they written or visual.  Here is a little of each, conveying, it is hoped, an impression of a small Edwardian town.

[The booklet contains 59 photographs of Edwardian Rye, each with explanatory text.]

Nights of Terror

The commemoration of Guy Fawkes’ abortive attempt in 1605 to blow up the Parliament buildings with the King, Lords and Commons in them has persisted for so long that it deserves to rank among the historic features of the town, although the date on which it was first celebrated is not known with certainty. The methods and extent of the festivities to-day do not bear any comparison with the ‘glorious fifth’ of the latter half of the last century, when boats laden with lighted tar barrels were dragged through the narrow streets.

In fact, from the late 1840′s until the mid 1880′s the 5th of November celebrations were ‘a time of terror’ among numbers of the inhabitants.   The subsidence of terror is remarked on by  contemporary commentators. Here is an example:

 Time is said to work  and it would be strange if to such a night of disorder, there was to be no end. A change appears to have come o’er the scene, and there is little to report of the proceedings on the night of Tuesday last [November 5th, 1889]. Whilst the town has not filled up . . . to the extent of Hastings in its daring smuggling propensities, in which the law has set at defiance, it has the notoriety that, once a year, the roughs in hundreds have openly defied the powers that be and challenged them to stay their hand in their diabolical work of destroying all moveable inflammable property anywhere in the neighbour-hood.

The adventures of some who once joined in the reckless sport is, nevertheless, somewhat interesting, as they relate to the incident which gave them a name for daring among their fellows. These characters no more feared the officers of the law on that night, however strong they might be, than the famous ‘ Death and Glory Boys’  in  their military prowess cared about facing a foreign foe. The incident of  the  Gunpowder Plot, when Guy Fawkes and his confreres were so providentially discovered ere the work of anarchy had arrived at a successful issue, has been well preserved, but that, we are inclined to believe, was little thought of by them. In the removal of many, and the decrease of some, great changes have naturally been effected, and there are not a few who have of late seen the folly of such boisterious conduct, or, through advancing years are sobered down by the stern realities of life, for it must be remembered that it is among those more distinguished as ‘hobbledehoys’  that these games have been carried out.

The work of the evening generally commenced with a gorgeous street procession, in which were numbers arrayed in the most grotesque and ludicrous attire conceivable. Had matters stayed there, there would have been little to chronicle : but it was the after proceedings. . .  

We well remember the night when Superintendent Butcher was felled to the ground with a loaded bludgeon and taken away insensible (which blow, without doubt, shortened his life). On the same night the only police constable we then had (now Superintendent Bourne) was tripped up, and had to go home with a sprained ankle, so that for the rest of the night the town was at the mercy of these desperadoes. Disgraceful conduct was shown to the late Mr Payne by the mob. As he was anxious to save his boat, he boarded it, and kept watch. He was thrown over the side into the mud by the roughs, and badly used, and that cannot be eradicated from the memory of those who witnessed the occurance. Finding that it was impossible to remove the craft, it was burnt at the water’s edge.

Attempts at reform: Failed!

Several attempts have been made to organise, so that the stealing of boats, etc, should be dispensed with, and the celebrations carried out in an orderly manner.

In 1879 an organised Society was formed, and on the 5th there was a splended procession: but some refused to join, and consequently the ‘originals’ carried on the old game. About ten o’clock the two processions encountered each other in Cinque Ports Street, and the ‘originals’ being the stronger of the two parties, the tug upon which the boat of the others was being drawn was seized. For a time a melee seemed to be imminent, clubs being freely used. This was the night on which the famous-model of the polysphemic ship, invented by the Rev C.M.Ramus, and valued at £40, was stolen from a meadow near the Rectory in Iden, and carried triumphantly to Rye, where it was quickly destroyed. In 1880 a boat at the Fishmarket, serving the purpose as a hut, in which a man known as Punch Moore  resided, was destroyed, and  the man, resisting,  experienced some rough handling from the mob

Another man secured his boat by sinking it, to save it from the flames.  In this year  Mr J.C.Hoad a shipbuilder, was struck by the desperadoes because he remonstrated with them for taking his timber tug.  A blow rendered him insensible and gave him a scalp wound. Not until nearly five o’clock next morning was the town quieted.

In 1881, Mr Crowhurst’s boat and Mr MilIsom’s casks were taken; and in the following year, 1882, Mr Hayle’s pleasure boat removed to his back premises in the High Street, for saftey, was deliberately taken and burnt, in spite of all pleading to the contrary. The County Police at the Chemical Works, in 1884, will have cause to recollect that date, owing to the powerful attack made on that place by the lawless gang. That night was a memorable one. Several stolen barrels had that year been discovered and removed before the night, and the roughs were somewhat exasperated, and so they, with a determined spirit broke down a boat,  which formed a lodge at Messrs Smith’s Shipyard, and carried it off triumphantly. The Crusader’s boat [the steam tug's dingy] they next intended to have, but Superintendent Bourne and P.C. Hanley, with a plucky staff of specials, prevented it being taken, for which act the Superintendent sustained several violent blows and was rendered insensible, whilst Henley’s helmet was battered in. The next year the boat was actually taken and destroyed, and five suspected of taken part were brought before the Recorder, but dismissed.

Mr J.C.Vidler’s pleasure boat was taken from a lodge in Ferry Road. But as the Police would not allow the guilty ones to pass over the bridge, a fire party destroyed it, and it was thrown over the bridge into the Tillingham.

Calmer Nights

Since 1885  trouble has been on the decline, and nothing very serious has taken place. On Tuesday evening last, partially disguised, they marched through the streets, the old banners again being used, and several lighted tar barrels illuminated the scene. A number of extra police were on duty in place of special constables, as in former years, but no interferance was made by them although the yelling and hooting of the youths which formed the procession was very great, and it was easily to be seen that the demonstration was very weak as compared with former years. Only one boat was burned, and that, we understand, had been purchased.  It had been dragged from the Fishmarket, across the Salts, to Bridge Place, where it was lighted, and very quickly drawn through the streets, the party at  times running through the narrow throughfares at a dangerous pace. A little before midnight, a barrel, containing a quantity of tar was stolen after some violent but ineffectual resistance by the owner,  Mr Watts, from his premises in Church Square (and we hear prosecution is likely to follow); it was taken as far as the Post Office, where it allowed to burn out. There was an amount of horse play, rotten eggs being some plentiful, and banter with a certain of the PCs  whose conduct was certainly not to its credit,   Three members of the force who remained deserve praise for the cool way in which they carried out their duties. Shortly after midght Supt Tobutt asked that the hose of the Brigade who were on duty in case of emergency should be used to quench the remains of the fire in front of the Post Office, and after s trouble in obtaining water it was extinguisdthe and the doings of the Fifth were at an end.

Such high goings on have now  disappeared. To day, under the auspices of the  Bonfire Boys  the Fifth is so far as is humanly possible an orderly and well organised, full of  merriment but utterly devoid of its former terror.

======

Cliff Bloomfield contributed these supplemenary notes 

1. The tugs referred to, were used  to carry logs to and from the saw pits, consisted of a pair of large wooden wagon and a fulcrum also served as a draw bar.
2. I remember my Grandparents referring to the night when Rye was alight. In fact a gang entered the yard and set on fire a fishing smack named The Rye lying in a  berth. The site became the Winchelsea Yacht Centre.
3. The Chemical Works of those days refined products from coal that arrived via the Harbour branch line,  Tar and pitch had many uses, coating timber buildings, making  surfaces etc.
4. My grand mother used a simple little verse for skipping  :-

Old Punch Moore and two or three more,
Went down the river on the dunikin door,
The dunkin door began to crack
So old Punch M said we  better get back.

Punch Moore, as we discovered,  lived in a shack with an upturned boat for a roof at Fishmarket. This method of roofing a shed shelter was not uncommon.

In 1870 it was decided to roof the red brick exercise yard  attached to the north side of the Ypres Tower and add a chimney to form a soup kitchen for the distribution of soup and bread to the poor during severe winter weather.  Local archaeologists considered  the resulting structure  an eyesore and they formed a society which provided funds for its demolition and removal to the Rope Walk in 1895.

The following article about  the second  Soup Kitchen is taken from Rye’s Own, December 2006.

The Soup Kitchen is Open

by Kenneth Clark

Pauperism in Rye remained an unresolved social problem at the opening of the twentieth century. Social reform is this country was confined to filling the most glaring gaps in the existing social system. The bed-rock of social provision was to be found in the Poor Law, first enacted in the time of the Tudors, and re-enacted in 1834. Administered locally by Boards of Guardians and financed from the local rates, the Poor Law provided a minimum subsistence under conditions which were deliberately designed to deter all but the utterly desperate from applying for it.

It is little wonder, therefore, that the poor feared the day when, through ill health, misfortune or old age, they would no longer be able to earn their living for, unless they had been extremely thrifty or possessed children who were in a position to help, the workhouse was the only place for them. Once in such a house, the inmates found themselves placed under the jurisdiction of a master and matron. Forced to wear the workhouse uniform, none could leave the premises except on special occasions. Entertainments and treats were provided from time to time by well meaning local men and women, but freedom and liberty–the twin concepts of a full and complete life–were denied. Many of the town’s leading men served on the Board and introduced many reforms,  but these were of necessity limited in scope as the rates would not have borne the cost.

In 1882 Mr. Lord, one of the Guardians, attempted to persuade the Rye Board to allow well-behaved men and women, who had entered the house  through misfortune or no fault of their own, to wear ordinary dress when they were granted leave of absence instead of the workhouse garb, which he described   ‘as a badge of misfortune, or, possibly, disgrace’. The privilege was to be bestowed for obedience to the master or matron. Voices were raised against discriminating between the well-behaved and the others and the proposal was adopted  after much discussion– without the offending rider.

When a crippled man aged 26, who had been in the workhouse for six years, asked for a testimonial to Messrs. Day and Martin in order that he might obtain a box and brushes and earn an honest living as a boot-black, the Board readily granted his request. The world was still, as Disraeli had remarked, for the few– the very few.  Sometimes the proceedings were enlivened by a little humour. In support of an application for increased relief, a well-known Rye character stated that she was 609 years old!

Life outside the workhouse was far from easy for although prices were low, so too were wages. When unemployment or illness struck, there were no welfare services such as exist in the modern  state, to come to the rescue. However there was succour from those who believed they had a responsibility for the welfare of the less fortunate. An outstanding example is provided by John Symonds Vidler whose generosity knew no bounds. The following description of the re-opening of the soup kitchen in 1907 well illustrates the need and the way it was met in adverse times.

On Saturday the Town Crier was busy visiting local districts, and announcing to the crowds that gathered at the tintinabulous call of his bell that tickets for soup and bread would be distributed to deserving causes at the Town Hall in the evening. At six o’clock sharp, on the evening in question, a large and representative party of the fishing and labour fraternity, who had been thrown out of employment and were otherwise afflicted by hard times, assembled at the Town Hall. The cases were heard by officials who made orders for the necessary distribution of bread and soup. No less than 122 tickets were given and it was decided that the soup kitchen, in Cinque Ports Street should be opened twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays during the cold weather. Accordingly, great preparations were made at the Soup Kitchen headquarters, which building, we believe, was formerly used as the Town Water Pumping Station, the pumping power of which was ‘generated’ by a couple of horses harnessed to mechanical contrivances.

The two large coppers, each capable of holding 70 gallons of soup, were cleansed, the fuel was got ready as also were the extensive fireplaces. For four solid hours on Monday a couple of muscular Ryers were kept continually on the go peeling potatoes, carrots, parsnips, turnips and onions. A large quantity of split peas  also to be used in the soup, was soaked in water for the greater part of 24 hours whilst the joints of meat and bones were cut up small.  All night and all morning until eight o’clock, when the kitchen was declared opened, did the two brawny impromptu cooks attend to the roaring and crackling fires and to the steaming cauldrons. Unceasingly did they manipulate the “stirrers” and spoons, some four feet in length.

At the opening time, and perhaps a little before, the soup was bubbling and gently steaming, and was declared by the connoisseurs to be “ready”. On the doors of the building being thrown open the savoury odour of soup permeated the neighbouring streets, from which came, scurrying and running, small boys and girls, carrying such handy receptacles as ewers, water cans, pots, basins, buckets, and other articles. . . .

Queen Victoria reigned for 63 years:   1837-1901.  During that period there were seven censuses.   What follows is a decade by decade summary of what those censuses, together with contemporary reports and Rye histories tell us about Rye and its people.

1840s

• Children made up one-third of the population
• 6-10  persons in a household was normal
• Nearly everyone had been born in Rye or within a few miles of it
• Few children went to school 
• Lighting was by candle
• Everyone used outdoor privies—usually shared by several households
• Rye had more than 40 inns

1850s

• Gas lights lit the town
•  ‘Salad days’ of Rye shipbuilding (to1855). Rye vessels regularly featured in Illustrated London News
• Three trains a day to London. Railway replacing stagecoaches, barges, hoys
• One quarter of the population needing poor relief; soup kitchen feeding 1220
• Streets named and houses numbered by William Holloway (1859)

1860s

• Disastrous weather 1859-60: gales, shipwrecks, floods
• Ruined crops brought depression but fortunes rising by 1864
• Three local papers printed in Rye
• Entertainments:  plays, revival meetings, freak shows, recital/ concert evenings . . .
• Average life span: 44 years (National 40)

1870s

• A School Board for Rye; many children now attending school
• Rye Literary Society flourishing but farming and trade depressed
• Rye Agricultural Hall (now Rye Mews) built for stock, produce and annual show
• Rye Fawkes celebrations ‘a time of terror’
• Rye had 6 free public pumps to supply water to 470 unconnected houses
• Soup kitchen added to Ypres Tower

1880s

• An exceptionally high tide caused extensive flooding and a lingering smell of dead worms (1882)
• Rye’s trade mostly by ships from other ports but new fleet of barges a success
• School attendance compulsory (5-12)
• Huge town celebration for Golden Jubilee
• Rye Regatta revived: gala day for town
• Corporation dealt with public health, highways, water supply, fire brigade, street lighting, allotments . . . .

1890s

• Rye Golf Club founded and Rye and Camber tram opened
• Shipbuilding, industries at low ebb…
• …but tourism compensating; artists, antiquarians, architects, photographers…
• Soup Kitchen provided 6,400 loaves and 7,040 quarts of soup to the needy
• 2000 ‘Robin breakfasts’ for children
•  470 households connected to water

1900 

• Rye still working 200 cargoes a year. 
• Coal and Dutch cheese coming in.  Corn and oak going out
• Commercial electricity not yet to Rye
• Cheap beer and many inns: drunkenness and lawlessness —> 10 inns closed 1901
• Cattle still driven through streets to slaughter houses behind High Street

Much more to come!