Signs & satnavs
From Kedleston Road:
From Duffield Road:
Event posters (jpg at top of page and pdf below) can be downloaded by right-clicking on the image & selecting ‘Save As’
Event posters (jpg at top of page and pdf below) can be downloaded by right-clicking on the image & selecting ‘Save As’
In this post (the second post in a series that considers everyday life in Early Modern England[i] through ‘archaeological stories’ that places historical evidence within a fictional narrative: see ‘Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’ for a brief explanation of this approach),[ii] we continue to follow Samuel Beighton. This Constable[iii] is investigating ‘Upper Hall’ (a privately occupied dwelling in the Swadlincote area of South Derbyshire),[iv] in order to verify the number of chargeable fireplaces for the first Hearth Tax assessment, in September 1662.[v]
This post continues from ‘The Taxman Cometh: Exploring a 17th Century South Derbyshire Home’, in which Samuels examines the setting and front façade of the manor House. The real-life characters encountered within these posts are discussed (alongside other occupants and events connected with the house) in ‘From Yeoman to Gentleman: Peopling a 17th Century South Derbyshire Manor House’, which includes tentative ‘family histories’ to consider social relationships within and between the Hall and the wider community. ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: the 17th Century Home’ outlines the domestic environment and material culture of the typical yeoman household at this time, providing a backdrop and comparisons for the society and culture of Upper Hall. ‘Expedition into the Past’ provides background information, and discusses how this series uses written and materials sources to create a historically descriptive, but imaginary, tale. (Please see the endnotes for information on the sources used, and on the introduction of fictional characters and circumstances. Italicised text is used to denote discussion of later and features, and to present background information, outside the main narrative.)
Constable Beighton resumes his investigations as one of the servants reluctantly admits him into the property through the porch: he now stands within the entrance hall.
The constable looks about him as the servant hesitates over where she should first conduct the officious intruder. Muffled voices permeate a closed oak door to the right, which intrigue Beighton, though this room appears not to be their destination. Samuel can just see stairs to another floor through the opening in the wattle panels in front of him. Through another oaken door to the left, he glimpses what must be the kitchen.
Though not visible to Samuel at this time, visitors in later years would have encountered a door to the left of that which led to the kitchen, which opened into an extension built in the late 18th or early 19th century, to the north of the porch. Its construction therefore postdates Beighton’s assessment of 1662, and the repeal of the hearth tax in the 1680s.
It will be seen below (in the section on the Hall) that the house has at several times been subdivided; this extension was most likely built as a parlour-dining room, after the south wing – and its dining room and parlour – was separated from the rest of the house. This modification appears to have been carried out in or after the late Georgian period (by which time the Benskin family had vacated the property), perhaps by the grandson of the third owner (William Cant), William Bailey (or ‘Bayley’) Cant (see ‘From Yeoman to Gentleman’).
The room is fitted with a fine (original?) late 18th – early 19th century style fire surround (perhaps made of what in the past was commonly called ‘deal’). Within the fireplace is a late 19th – 20th century cast iron combination grate, with transfer-printed ceramic tiles. The ceramic hearth tiles appear to be relatively recent additions, perhaps set on top of an earlier hearth-stone (possibly raising the level of the fireplace floor, in order to comply with modern building regulations for fitting a gas fire within the grate). To the right of the chimneybreast is an arched alcove (which may have once contained a carved wooden or plaster back), within which expensive possessions may have been displayed.
The room would most likely have contained a central mahogany dining table (perhaps of gate-leg design, so that it might be folded and placed against the wall when not in use), with upholstered and carved mahogany dining chairs, and perhaps a small mahogany sideboard.
Here the servant-girl suddenly leaves Samuel, as a male servant approaches through the kitchen door to take her place, and grudgingly bids the constable to follow.
Samuel is impressed by the modern and well-equipped kitchen, which has not one, but two, bread ovens (see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’) within the brick inglenook fireplace – no sending victuals out to the village baker, as the less fortunate must do. One of the arched openings bears sooty traces from the flames and smoke of a previous fire.
The following is a description of the possible arrangements for the kitchen hearth at the time of the first Hearth Tax assessment. Inglenook fireplaces were built to contain open grate wood fires, whereas the central brick feature (enclosing a narrow flue) now visible was likely to have been inserted at a later date to burn coal (late 17th – late 18th century: closer examination might enable a more accurate estimate of the most likely date when this modification took place). Bricked in flues could more efficiently (and with less smoke, and fewer noxious fumes) burn fossil fuels; prior to this change, chimney flues were chamfered.[vi]
The ashes from the fire (saved for cleaning purposes) part fill a deep brick-lined grate-covered pit (perhaps 2’ square) set in brick floor in front of the fireplace.[vii] A young boy brings in faggots from outdoors, in readiness for baking, and wood to keep the main fire alive, and eyes the constable warily, as the other servant departs – perhaps to consult with the master of the house.
Samuel takes this opportunity to look around the room. Like the treads of the stairs that he saw in the hallway, the massive oak lintel of the inglenook is a reminder of the substantial rooms above. The fireplace is conveniently equipped with side niches, which provide a dry place for the saltbox and sugar loaf between use, away from vermin that might have escaped the attention of the house cat.
Inglenook niche (right). Note pale blue distemper on the stone base of the bread oven (within which faggots have been laid)
Logs burn upon iron firedogs (see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’) in the hearth; Mistress Benskin prefers to keep the blaze perpetually alight, for what seems to be a continuous round of cooking. (As the wife of a prosperous farmer, she has as much fuel as she might need – which is a good thing, considering the frustration that both she and the kitchen maid find in using the tinderbox to re-light an extinguished flame.)
Through his assessments of the tax, Beighton has noticed that some (albeit mainly the landowning gentry) have begun to burn locally mined coal within their homes, in place of wood. He suspects that this well-off household will soon make this change: he has seen grates adapted for this purpose by the placement of iron bars between the dogs (see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’). With coalmines only a few miles away, transportation costs should not prohibit the use of this new fuel (which is often the case for even ‘middling’ families in other areas).
As Samuel hears the servant returning, his gaze quickly casts around the room, excepting the occasional trace, no lime-wash covers the walls, as is customary (though servants usually perform this task in spring, perhaps they have scrubbed them in readiness to receive a fresh coat).
A patch of pale blue tinted lime-wash is evident on the stone base of the right bread oven (see photo above). Blue was often added to whitewash on kitchen, pantry, cupboard interiors, external yard and passageway walls, and privy walls, and any other place where hygiene was particularly required (including the walls of children’s bedrooms) in the Victorian or Edwardian periods. This finish was thought to repel flies (though this belief had no basis in fact); for further examples of this finish, see posts on ‘No. 8’ – a later 19th century terrace house in Derby that was also examined by LIPCAP.
The room is simply furnished, with table, chair, benches and stool, a meat safe on the wall, and equipment suspended from the walls and hearth (see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’ for a description of 17th century kitchen furnishings).
A kitchen maid accompanies the returning man; he motions to the constable to follow her as she moves towards a door leading from the kitchen. As she opens the door, Beighton sees a flight of stairs, down which he follows his young guide.
As Samuel descends, a breeze stirs the cool air, streaming in through an open window. On reaching the bottom of the steps, an unglazed stone mullion becomes visible (expensive glass would be wasted in these out-of-sight cellars). Though windows are barred to intruders, this precaution has clearly proved no obstacle to this unwelcome visitor.
Brick walls divide the cellar into barrel-vaulted rooms, the size of the bricks suggesting later insertions and extensions (built during or after the 19th century). In places, these walls top earlier brick courses. The size of the bricks used for the extant thralls suggests a later date (late 18th – 19th century) for these features.
The floors are paved with stone flags, and patches of early (17th – mid 18th century) and later (19th century onwards) bricks and ceramic tiles. The walls have at some point been lime-washed, the colour reflecting the limited light, and lime content of the wash acting as a disinfectant.
The serving girl continues to fulfil her charge from Mistress Benskin, and goes to fetch milk. She picks up a glazed yellow earthenware jug, made locally at Ticknall, which sits on the thrall (platform on which food, particularly dairy produce, was kept chilled) besides a large, wide, shallow, red earthenware bowl. The shiny black glaze that lines this pan can just be seen above the cream it contains.[viii]
(See ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’ for more information on 17th century material culture and practices associated with the home dairy.)
Though finding no hearths, Samuel can see that food is processed as well as stored in these rooms. Through an open door, a large stone salting trough is visible, in which a flitch of bacon is partway through the curing processes, in preparation for the rapidly approaching cold winter months.
(See ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’ for information on 17th century material culture and practices relating to meat preservation.)
This use of cellar space for household chores continues over the centuries, as land for housing becomes more precious: dwellings not only rise in height, but sink in depth, condemning many domestic servants – particularly young girls and boys, and women – to a largely subterranean life well into the 20th century, in the basements of middle-class households.
After responding affirmatively to the enquiry of the maid as to whether she could show him back to the house, Samuel follows her up the steps, which are (as with the other stairs) made of thick oak blocks. Rising from the dim underbelly of Upper Hall, he returns to the heat and light of the kitchen.
By this time, the women have begun to prepare the next meal. Samuel’s mouth waters at the smell of roasting mutton (was it reared on Benskin lands?) and fresh thyme (likely picked from the garden). The serving girl takes over turning the spit from the weary pink-faced boy – an increasingly automated task in wealthier households by use of a mechanical spit jack. As the spit scrapes upon a wrought iron andiron, Mistress Maria pours claret from a squat bottle into a large bowl, into which she then grates nutmeg (using a recipe of the day for those sufficiently wealthy to afford meat. A bell-metal cauldron of bubbling pottage gently swings on the wrought iron trammel hook that suspends the vessel over the flames.
(For illustrations and more information on the above-mentioned kitchen objects, see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’.)
Beneath this array of aromas, the tang of vinegar and rosemary is just perceptible. Eliza had earlier scrubbed the ash kitchen table – with some success; the Master and Mistress have spoken together of her progress – though not yet 9 years old, she is coming on as a maid.
Master John has distant childhood memories of his grandfather John – whose son John (the current Master’s father) built the house (see ‘From Yeoman to Gentleman’) – talking of a maid bearing the same name, who served his family in the previous century. Long gone, she has lain buried in the nearby church since 1602 (though not being of the gentry, her grave has no marker) (see ‘From Yeoman to Gentleman’). The couple hope that this young girl will prove as faithful as her namesake, for she is almost one of the family, having been part of the household for over a year now.[ix]
Handle of a coarse earthenware jug, of 14th – 17th century date, found in the topsoil of Upper Hall garden. There are possibly slight traces of yellow glaze (which might be clarified by closer examination); if certainly evident, this would suggest local manufacture in the 17th century.
Sherds from possible contemporary ceramics found within the garden of Upper Hall will be examined in more detail in a subsequent post.
Samuel makes a note of the kitchen hearth, before the man who previously accompanied led him out of the room. The men pass a small room – or large cupboard, to the right of the kitchen; he can see through the door that no hearth lies within. This is perhaps a pantry, providing storage for precious ingredients that were more susceptible to damp (and more expensive), such as spices imported from foreign lands thanks to expanding trade networks.
Beyond is another small room, possibly a scullery for preparing food, and for other dirty household chores. Samuel can see no soft water cistern (often a T-shaped feature in stone), and supposes that water is fetched from a well in the yard outside.
(See ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’ for a description of 17th century pantry and scullery material culture.)
Early occupants would have to wait nearly three centuries for an indoor running water supply (though a washhouse is later built in the yard: see the forthcoming post ‘Out Back: Exploring a 17th Century Home in South Derbyshire’).
As the men move towards another closed door ahead of them, the suppressed clamour of children emanates from beyond; this is a familiar sound – perhaps the same he encountered earlier through another door, when first entering into the hall. The room hence is perhaps large, spanning the width of the house; Samuel consequently suspects that he is about to enter the hub of the house: the Hall.
The Benskin family are gathered in the Hall, and eye Beighton as he enters the room. Sitting by the fire in an upholstered high-backed chair is the Master, Johannis (John) – a man of 62 years, referred to as ‘old’ John, to differentiate from his younger son who is in his early 30s; beside him sits his wife Maria, on a similar chair.
This is before the time of sofas and settees, which did not become fashionable within middle class homes until the end of the following century. In the mid 17th century, few common folk would have an upholstered chair, and often had to make use of a plain wooden stool or bench.
The Mater and Mistress have several children: two sadly died in infancy (as is commonplace – even within affluent households such as this), though seven have survived into adulthood, and have homes and families of their own. They also have many grandchildren, some of whom join them today, seated on stools about the room.
(See ‘Living in the Early Modern Past‘ for information on derivation of, and material culture associated with, the 17th century hall; and ‘From Yeoman to Gentleman’ for further information on the family.)
A fireplace of large stone blocks, and lined with the small bricks of the period, almost fills one wall of the room. It inevitably captures the constable’s attention, and he makes a note of it for his assessment. Burning logs that rest upon a cupped andiron warm the room; the cast iron back-plate (designed to reflect the heat forwards) is decorated, though soot and ash obscure the image. Beside the fire is an inverted earthenware bowl – of a type known as a curfew – which a servant will place over the flames when the family later retire to bed. In this way, the wood will continue smouldering overnight in relative safety (and thus avoid the need to re-light the fire in the morning).
Larger bricks, most likely manufactured in nearby Measham, line the back of the hearth; these are later insertions (known by some as Gob, or Jumb, bricks), made in the late 18th – early 19th centuries.[x] Between 1784 and 1803, Joseph Wilkes made these bricks twice the usual size (up to 11” × 5 “ × 3 1⁄2 “ / 280 mm × 125 mm × 80 mm, reduced in 1801 to 10” x 5” x 3” , prior to firing, which usually led to substantial shrinkage), in order to limit liability for the new brick taxation.[xi] This charge was imposed by George III in an attempt to reduce the debt incurred by the failed American war of 1776-83.[xii] Although builders required fewer of these new style bricks than they had for the previously smaller bricks, the manufacturer aimed to maintain a profit by charging higher for the larger bricks; however, loses were made through the charge being set prior to firing – a process liable to include failures.[xiii] The tax was initially levied at 2s 6d per thousand bricks, but was increased in 1794, 1797, and 1805, ultimately reaching 5s 10d; it was not repealed until the middle of the 19th century.[xiv]
On either side of the fireplace would have been two doors (now blocked), leading to the parlours, in the southern wing of the house, which can be seen in the photo of the back of the building, below. This part of the house now forms the neighbouring property, to which the author has not had access. The following therefore provides only a description of features commonly encountered within the rooms that would have lay beyond these doors in the later 17th century.
The door to the left of the fireplace led to the Dining Parlour, within which Beighton would have found a further hearth. It would have been lined with oak panels, which were often painted during and after the late 17th century. The room would have contained an oak table, which may have had folding leafs to allow storage against the wall when not in use, and chairs (perhaps caned or upholstered), and an oak sideboard (see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’) and perhaps a corner cupboard (which were often wall-mounted). In subsequent decades, mahogany often replaced oak in wealthy homes.
Although Chinese porcelain may have been used (or displayed) in particularly prosperous times, blue-tinted and polychromatic tin-glazed earthenware (imitative ‘Delftware’, imported from Holland, or English-made imitations, imported from Bristol, Liverpool or London) was more probably used, alongside locally produced wares. Glazed and slip-decorated wares were made at potteries located only a few miles away (nearby Ticknall was a significant production centre, and wares manufactured in and around Swadlincote (such as by TG Green and Sharpe’s) gained in prominence over the following centuries).[xv] Decorative wares may have been increasingly imported from Staffordshire potteries, made easier during the late 18th century with the development of the canal system. (With fewer breakages in transit reducing costs, the market expanded for regionally produced wares.)
Artefacts found within the garden topsoil of Upper Hall, showing some of the material culture used by the occupants, will be considered in a later post. For more information on the fixtures and fittings and other material culture (such as dining sets) that might have been used within these rooms, see ‘Living in the Early Modern Past’.
The parlour, in the early 17th century, often referred to as the ‘Hall’, would have been the best appointed in the house, and only used by the family and special guests. It would have had a timber floor, perhaps covered with a woven wool carpet, or rush mat, and may have in later years been dry lined with lathe and plaster, and perhaps wallpapered, and fitted with a plaster or painted wood cornice.
Samuel Beighton would have found another fireplace to add to his list. Mistress Benskin may have displayed her most treasured possessions within cupboards in the alcoves at either side of the chimney, or within a corner cupboard. The windows, facing on to the road, may have been fitted with shutters, for warmth and privacy.
The room perhaps contained a small table, and several chairs, where of an evening the Master and Mistress, and perhaps the occasional close friend, passed their leisure time in polite conversation, or playing a fashionable card game, away from less refined company. Master Benskin and his sons may have smoked tobacco in their clay pipes (sherds of which have been found within Upper Hall gardens: see above) within this room – or perhaps, deemed offensive to ladies, this pursuit was restricted to the dining room after meals.
The light is fading fast, and soon the household must retire to bed. The constable is ushered out of the door (not permitted by law to continue his search after dark), but will return tomorrow to explore the floors above…
[i] This series of posts use the common definition of the Early Modern period in Britain as covering the mid 16th to mid 18th centuries; see the endnotes of ‘Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’ for a brief discussion of the term, and of categorising historical periods.
[iii] For more information on the 17th century Petty Constable, see ‘The Taxman Cometh: Exploring a 17th Century South Derbyshire Home‘.
[iv] In order to retain the privacy of the occupants of this house, the full address of Upper Hall is withheld.
[v] Samuel Beighton is named as the constable responsible for assessing the in the Hearth Tax returns (see an online transcription of the 1662 Hearth Tax return for the village). For more information on the Hearth Tax, see Hearth Tax Online.
[vi] Philip Heath, ‘Farmhouses and Cottages, Derbyshire’, Derbyshire Archaeological Society Talk, 20 March 2014.
[vii] The hearth pit was a common feature during this period, although fitted carpet now covers the floor within this building; it is at this stage therefore uncertain whether this fireplace has this feature (ibid.).
[viii] For example, see Janet Spavold and Sue Brown (2005) Ticknall Pots & Potters from the Late Fifteenth Century to 1888.
[ix] This character is fictional, introduced in order to consider the role of servants at this time.
[x] With thanks to the owner of the property for highlighting the presence of Measham bricks.
[xi] See e.g. Robin Lucas (1997) ‘The Tax on Bricks and Tiles, 1784-1850: its Application to the Country at large and, in particular, to the County of Norfolk’, Construction History Vol. 13, pp. 29-55.
[xii] Richard Holmes (2013) ‘The American War of Independence: The Rebels and the Redcoats’, BBC History Website, Accessed 9 November 2014.
[xiii] Lucas, op. cit..
[xv] See Spavold & Brown, op. cit..
This is the first ‘archaeological story’ in a series of posts that explore everyday life in the 17th century through an early modern manor house in South Derbyshire:[i] ‘Upper Hall’ – a private home, recently visited by the author.[ii] We take an imaginary tour around the dwelling in 1662, by following (unseen) a visitor to this building: Samuel Beighton, the petty constable.[iii] Written sources indicate the responsibility of this person for assessing the Hearth Tax in this year.[iv] Though fictitious, archaeological and other historical evidence informs the tale.[v]
Brief discussion of this approach, background information and on Hearth Tax, is outlined within the previous post ‘Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’. The preceding post ‘From Yeoman to Gentleman: Peopling a 17th Century South Derbyshire Manor House’ investigates the early residents of the house, using written evidence to produce ‘family histories’, and to consider social relationships between and within the families that occupied the Hall, and the wider community. An earlier post, ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: the 17th Century Home’, provides a backdrop for this series, outlining the domestic environment and material culture at this time for the typical yeoman household.
In this post, we follow Samuel as he approaches Upper Hall, and considers the impressive façade.
It is Michaelmas, in the 13th year of the reign of Charles II (were it not for the Puritan Purge of the Commonwealth) – September 1662. Those whose property he had hitherto protected from ne’r-do-wells had soon come to scorn Samuel Beighton: he now aroused enmity from poachers and landowners alike. The Hearth Tax[vi] (or Chimney Tax, as some call it) has not proved a popular innovation, devised (it is said) to sustain the recently restored monarch in his indolence and debauchery.[vii]
The Elizabethan – Jacobean Petty Constable (Source)
Undoubtedly, it is only proper that the constable should search the humble hovels in which he suspects are concealed stolen goods (for the theft of game and sheep rightly deserves stiff punishment – the branding that many receive is far too lenient).[viii] But the very notion that Beighton is now empowered to intrude within the homes of reputable families – who by their good grace elected the man to his office – is contemptible. Surely, any fool can determine the charge by counting the number of chimneys that rise above the rooftops. (Those with sham pots deserve to pay for their pretensions.) Yet he can compromise the liberty of honest men, and encroach upon private life in search of hearths – despicable. Moreover, this petty constable puts the honour of gentlemen to the test, whose word regarding the number of hearths within their own home is no longer considered adequate – an intolerable state of affairs.
Having collected his documents from the parish chest,[ix] Samuel Beighton starts out on his route around the village, to check Hearth Tax assessments submitted by local residents.
Parish chest, St Peter’s Church, Hartshorne, Derbyshire (©Grassroots Heritage 2014)[x]
He is heading for the manor house, which he can see a short distance away. Two chimney-stacks rise from the roof (which is fashionably – and expensively – tiled, and not thatched, as a common dwelling); the seven pots in all surely indicate the provision of bedroom fireplaces: such extravagance for a yeoman farmer (Samuel cannot help but wonder at the decadence he might encounter within the dwelling). He suspects that all the information he really needs to know is now before him, but the opportunity – nay, duty – to inspect this dwelling, in order to ascertain the accuracy of Master Benskin’s assessment, compels him to continue.
Nonetheless, he must tread carefully. He only retains this responsible and respectable position thanks to their acknowledgement of his merits, and meeting the requirements (he scorned the assertion that this noble office was generally given to the “poorest and weaker sort“, and was reluctant to admit that he only came to office because it was his turn, considering where he lived). Sometimes he considered paying a deputy his £3 to fulfil his tasks as a constable – this unpaid position was often more trouble than the authority it conveyed. However, at other times (perhaps such as this) he might consider serving beyond the obligatory year – after all, few could command the authority conferred by the post as he did (and he would receive 2d. in every £1 collected).
Will the family at the manor house take kindly to such an intrusion? He knows of the Benskin’s prosperity – and of their litigious reputation, in trying to hold on to their wealth. The constable finds this new ‘middling sort’ often less amenable than the landed gentry – though they too often express indignation at such government interference; the tugging of private tax collectors at their already stretched purse strings is even more distasteful to these purveyors of taste.
The constable walks down the hill, soon meeting the main thoroughfare. He must quickly step back to avoid a laden cart, the sneer upon its driver’s face suggesting to Mr Beighton a deliberate act of malice. Be-splattered by mud from the wheels on the waterlogged track, he gains some comfort from the obstacle that the cart would meet further down the road: a shepherd, and the straggling remains of his flock (likely returning from the beast sale), visible a moment ago from his vantage point on higher ground.
Abandoning his attempt to brush away the dirt from his woollen knee breeches, the constable resumes his journey. As he walks, Samuel considers the name of Upper Hall. It is no ordinary farmhouse (and positively no cottage), to be sure, but the principal residence of one of the two manors that make up the village. He contemplates the grandeur of the house and, with wry amusement, notes that, though built on a far smaller scale, it yet imitates the houses of the gentry. He looks forward to taking a closer look.
Other carts pass by before he reaches his destination – despite the short distance of his walk. The route is busy, used to carry bricks between nearby Measham and burgeoning townships beyond, and from Swadlincote and Ticknall potteries to various markets (the clattering carts suggesting that not all of their contents will be delivered intact).
Samuel soon arrives at the gate to the Hall; before him are several stone steps leading to the main entrance, elevate above the road. With not a little trepidation, he ascends the path to the front door.
Upper Hall: rear elevation (©Grassroots Heritage 2014)[xi]
Constable Beighton knocks with the tip of his staff upon the door (both in announcing the official nature of his call, and in anticipating that his knuckles would make little sound upon the thick oak). As he awaits an answer, he steps back slightly to take in this impressive dwelling, and casually glances around to take it in.
The timber box frame – the skeleton of the house – is made of good straight oaken beams (of the sort coveted, and he expects paid for dearly, by the Navy for its ships). The frame rests upon several courses of large stone blocks (this ‘half-timbered‘ form of construction still fashionable for the homes of the well-to-do yeoman: see the previous post on 17th century housing, which also discusses social terms). The lime-washed plastered panels of ‘wattle and daub‘ that fill the spaces between the beams reflect the bright sunlight.[xii]
The gabled wing to the right brings a gentrified air to the building, which together with the extravagantly glazed windows (and the numerous chimneys that remain within his thoughts), proclaim the modernity of this comfortable house. He again reflects upon how tall this house is when compared to nearby low cottages: not one but two storeys, with the slope of the roof suggesting further accommodation in the loft (for he sees no small holes or narrow windows to suggest that the top floor is used to store cheese or doves). Built above the level of the road, the provision of generous cellars is also to be expected.
Beighton hears sounds from within, as (he suspects) someone is coming to answer his knock. Before they reach the door, he considers who might greet him. He recalls the family pious, prim, and proud in all their finery in their prominent pews in the church, and considers what grand garb he might encounter today. But he expects that one of the servants shall first be sent to attend to him, and that he shall only meet Master Johannes or Mistress Maria if and when necessary.
Graffiti, front porch (©Grassroots Heritage 2014)
As the servant opens the front door, Beighton peers around the girl into the porch. (What he cannot know is that, seven years hence, some resident – or perhaps a visitor idly waiting for attendance – would leave their mark on the wall to the left: ‘W. A. 1669’, the culprit exhibiting some degree of literacy, as well as a sense of their own importance, despite – or perhaps because – these grand surroundings.)
The porch is generously sized, and provides an impression of what might be seen beyond. The servant reluctantly bids Samuel to follow her into the building, indignant on behalf of the Master and Mistress…
Constable Beighton begins his search of the house in the following post ‘In at the Ground Floor: Exploring a 17th Century Home in South Derbyshire: ’.
[i] Within British archaeology, the Early Modern period is typically seen as beginning in the mid 16th century, and ending in the mid – late 18th century. For a fuller discussion see the previous post the preceding post ‘Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’.
[ii] For information on the circumstances of access to the property, see ‘Expedition into the Past’ (op. cit.). The full address of this property is withheld in order to retain the occupant’s privacy.
[iii] For background information on the petty constable, see E. Trotter (ed.) 1980 Seventeenth Century Life in the Country Parish, p. 83 ff.; also see William Edward Tate (1969: 3rd Ed.) The Parish Chest: A Study of the Records of Parochial Administration in England, pp. 176-87.
[v] For more information on the ‘story-telling’ approach, see ‘Expedition into the Past’ (op. cit.). Italicised text is used to denote discussion of later and features, and to present background information, outside the main narrative.
[viii] See note iii..
[ix] For information on the contents and historical value of the parish chest, a classic text Tate (op cit.).
[x] For more information on the photographs of Upper Hall, see ‘Expedition into the Past’. All images of the building and associated artefacts may not be reproduced without the express permission of the LIP project and property owners.
[xi] The front of the property is not illustrated in order to retain the privacy of the occupants.
[xii] Wattle and daub was frequently composed of woven rods of the flexible hazel, covered with clay containing binding material, such as horsehair, straw, and dung. Though most commonly off-white in colour, organic pigments such as ochre (to give a buff hue), or iron oxide (to give an earthy red hue), were sometimes added to lime-wash to tint the finish.
This post is one of the series that explores everyday life in the early modern period,[i] through an early 17th century manor house in South Derbyshire, which the author recently had opportunity to visit.[ii] This private home, ‘Upper Hall’, is of interest to the historian in both the preservation of early features, and the availability of related written sources.[iii]
This post investigates the early residents of the house, using written evidence to produce ‘family histories’, and to consider social relationships between and within the families that occupied the Hall, and the wider community. This follows on from ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: the 17th Century Home’, which provides a backdrop for this series, outlining the domestic environment and material culture at this time for a smaller early modern yeoman household. Subsequent posts, beginning with ‘A 17th Century Home in South Derbyshire: In at the Ground Floor’, will describe the domestic environment and material culture commonly associated with such households in the middle of the 17th century. These descriptive and interpretative posts adopt an ‘archaeological story-telling’ approach – a method discussed in the preceding post ‘Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’.
Benskin family (variously spelt Benskyn or Benskine – the different forms perhaps used to differentiate between different branches of the family),[iv] prosperous yeoman farmers from at least the mid 16th century (see below), built (or more likely, had built) Upper Hall as built their home.[v] As was typical until the mid 20th century (the explanation for which would be out-of-place here!), the family was large, with each generation perpetuating the names of their forebears (a factor that holds the potential to cause confusion when needing to differentiate between successive family members).
In the late 16th – early 17th centuries, the head of the family within the village was Johannis (sometimes spelt Johannes; often abbreviated as Johis. or Johes.), who shall here be referred to as John I (and highlighted in red on the family tree below). Sometime after the birth of his son Johannis in 1600 (here referred to as John II, highlighted in green, on the family tree below), John I came to be known as Johannis Snr. in the records.
Tentative family trees: John Benskin I, highlighted in red, showing siblings of John II (highlighted in green)
In the years after the death of his father (John I) in 1637-38, John II became known as ‘old’ John, in order to differentiate between him and his own son Johannis (here referred to as John III, probably born in 1627 or 1630, and highlighted in blue on the family tree below).[vi] John III – known in the records as ‘John Jnr.’ – may have had a son called John: the parish records record the burial of a John ‘son of Johannis Juinioris’) in early April 1663. Seven years later, in recording the burial of his (also named John – consequently here IV) mother Maria, she is described as wife of ‘old man’ John, which it must be presumed is John II, who in this year would have reached 70 years of age. (There are also several nephews and cousins named John, who we shall pass over.)
Tentative Benskin family trees constructed from parish records (liable to modification with further investigation of historic records).[vii]
The family had evidently achieved remarkable success over several generations, as tenant farmers of grazing lands.[viii] In the middle of the previous century, the goods of a certain Ralph Benskin were assessed for tax purposes; his payment recorded as the highest in the village.[ix] The exact location of the Benskin household within the manor at this time is uncertain, although the 1616 pew plan for the local church might tentatively be used to investigate the composition of the community, and to consider social hierarchies within the village, between this time and the first records for the church rate assessments in 1619 (see below). The plan does not record the ‘Upper Hall’ as it now stands, which they had not yet built; dendrochronological investigation provides dates from building timbers that support stylistic conclusions of construction in the early 17th century.[x] However, a pew at the front of the church for residents of ‘The Hall’ suggests the presence of an earlier important residency, perhaps on lands in the Upper Hall manor. (Alternatively, ‘The Hall’ is perhaps instead associated with nearby Newhall, formerly the seat of the rectory patrons, the Dethick family).[xi] ‘Ould Hall’ recorded in the 1666 rates assessment (see below)[xii] arguably corresponds to this building.
The plan names most pew occupants; however, although wealthy members of the community (see below),[xiii] it does not record the Benskin family by name. Considered in conjunction with their subsequent construction of Upper Hall manor house, this raises the possibility that they occupied the earlier Hall, and the associated box pew, although one of the other properties named on the plan might alternatively represent the family.[xiv] The plan also records pews for Nether Hall, the adjoining manor that with Upper Hall lands forms the village, and located approximately 1 ¼ miles to the west of the Upper Hall.[xv]
Plan of the box pews in the nearby church, 1616[xvi]
By 1619, John Benskin (I) pays the highest rates; his son (John II) pays a much smaller amount; and Samuel Benskin (the probable brother of John I; highlighted in orange, on the family tree above) likewise pays comparatively little, at times much less than John Jnr. (II), who was at other times (1628) un-rated.[xvii]
John I pays rates in the summer assessment of 1629 on his ‘livings’ (income or revenue, commonly from lands or property), but in the winter is assessed for his new house, which is interpreted as Upper Hall.[xviii] This terminus ante quem for Upper Hall correlates with the dendrochronology dates of 1618-28.[xix] From the information currently at hand, it seems most likely that the house was built on the more substantial manor estate of the two that formed the village (probably on land rented, rather than purchased, from the gentry, though see below),[xx] some time (at most a few years) before or after the death of this first wife, Sarah (obit. 1625). If the above family tree is correct, the surviving children of John would at this time have been in their late 20s (which does not preclude their living with their parents, or father, at this time);[xxi] his grandchildren seem to have mostly been born in the second half of the 1620s.
John’s (I) continued to pay the highest rates in the village through the 1630s, though the amount declines during this time.[xxii] The rate assessments of 1636 and 1637 entries are incomplete, with possible missing pages; but those dating to and after 1638 do not list him, suggesting that he died during this period;[xxiii] his will was proved in 1637.[xxiv] Samuel’s fortunes seem to rise during this decade, as in 1635 he occupies the second manor house in the village, Nether Hall.[xxv] John II appears to have inherited his father’s estate by 1638, residing within Upper Hall, his rates valued at a similar level to that paid by his father during his possible final assessment, making John II the highest ratepayer.[xxvi] The surviving rate assessments suggest that this pre-eminence continued through to the 1650s,[xxvii] despite family involvement within at least one dispute over property in the village. In 1655, when John II and Samuel are still living at Upper Hall and Nether Hall, respectively, there is a chancery case between plaintiffs John (presumably II) and Samuel Benskin (I?), and Richard Compton (and other defendants).[xxviii] An early 18th century ‘history’ by William Woolley refers to a Henry Compton selling manor lands in the later 16th century to ‘Berkins’ (a scribal or transcription error for ‘Benskin’??), who then sold land to ‘Capt. Thomas Colson’, whose son sold the land to the author of the ‘history’.[xxix] This chain of events raises interesting possibilities with respect to this court case, and others that follow (see below).
Though the rates returns are then unavailable until 1663,[xxx] other documents tantalisingly hint at some of the accommodation, activities, and attitudes, of Benskin family members during this time. A James, son of Samuel Benskin (perhaps Samuel Benskin the younger, highlighted in brown on the above family tree), begins a London apprenticeship in 1661-62, at which time his father is described as a ‘gentleman’.[xxxi] The 1662 Hearth Tax payment for seven hearths suggests that John continued to occupy the Hall, or a building in the village of similar proportions; he pays the highest amount behind Thomas Coulson, who apparently occupied a house equipped with one more chargeable hearth than John.[xxxii]
It would be interesting to hear from local historians as to whether the ‘Newhall’ owned by ‘Capt. Thomas Colson’ referred to by Woolley (see above) may or may not corresponds to this building.[xxxiii] The payment of tax by Samuel Benskin may either suggest that Nether Hall was a small dwelling with only a single hearth (which seems unlikely), or that only one Samuel Benskin resided in the village at that time, the elder by then having moved from the Hall; the return does not mentioned Compton.[xxxiv] When the rates records resume in the following year, this change in prominence seems to continue, with ‘Mr Coulson’ paying the highest rates for an unnamed property in the Upper Hall manor (again, perhaps ‘Newhall’ – see above), though only slightly more than John Benskyn and his sons.[xxxv] Samuel Benskin is again associated with the Nether Hall manor, paying the highest rates.[xxxvi] Another property dispute (potentially relating to the Upper Hall manor) is recorded in this year,[xxxvii] between Benskin and ‘Oldershaw’ (who, though not mentioned on the Hearth Tax return,[xxxviii] appears at the top of the rates assessment list in 1665, for an apparently unnamed property: see below).[xxxix]
Upper Hall manor (south-east: below centre right) and Nether Hall manor (north-west: above centre left) sectors of the village (image: Bing Maps). Note the medieval ridge and furrows (wide s-shaped rows of earth) within the curved fields around the village (narrower, straighter ridges usually date to a later period)
The following years appear to be a time of change for the Benskin family, although without examining the original documents, it is only possible to speculate the extent to which further chancery cases affected this change. The legal dispute of 1664 was within the family, between the plaintiffs John (II?) and Samuel (II?), and John (III, or son of Samuel I?), alongside other unnamed defendants.[xl] The 1665 rate assessment does not mention of Upper Hall, but records a John Benskin as paying rates on the ‘Coppies’ (perhaps the Coppice Farm, to the north-east of the village centre;[xli] if referring to John II (and not his son, or a son of Samuel), this may support the suggestion that Upper Hall was vacant at this time.[xlii] The assessment also mentions payments from Samuel and Richard Benskyn (the latter probably a son of John II; highlighted in purple on the above family tree), although with no reference to their abode.[xliii] Though perhaps by now their occupation of the Upper Hall (though possibly not of the lands: see below) had ended, it might be conjectured that the connections of the Benskin family with the manor aided their ascendant social status. The author has not yet had opportunity to undertake further study of the Parish records, which might determine the extent to which the Bubonic Plague (particularly that of 1665) affected the village (and property ownership or occupation).
Samuel still pays rates for Nether Hall in 1672,[xliv] the year of another chancery case, in which the defendants are Samuel (probably III, as a will for a Samuel Benskin, of the same village, is dated to 1671), John (II or III?), and Richard Benskin (I: see above). Chancery records name the plaintiffs as John Hope, Thomas Greene (who may subsequently occupy the hall: see below, and whose family may have lived in the village at least since the early 1660s).[xlv] Another is John Cantrell, who belongs to a local family, some of whom may have held land outside the village, and whose likely descendants (and perhaps himself), later occupy the Hall (see below).[xlvi] It is uncertain whether this dispute relates directly to manor lands or the Hall, but subsequent developments (see below) perhaps support this possibility.
Despite (or because) of these disputes (it is at this stage unknown to the author whether they increased or diminished family fortunes), the social position of some members of the Benskin family seems to rise, or at least remain stable. In the mid 1670s, Richard (I: see above), like his relative (probably uncle) Samuel before him, is described as a ‘gentleman’, at the beginning of the apprenticeship of his son Richard (II: highlighted in pink on the family tree above).[xlvii]
By 1678, Thomas Benskin (possibly the eldest surviving son of Samuel I, who was perhaps by then deceased: highlighted in yellow on the Benskin family trees, above) pays rates on Nether Hall, and continues to do so for the next two years.[xlviii] After this, the family appear to be absent from the village rates assessments, although they perhaps continue to fight in the courts with local landowners over property within, and possibly around, the village.[xlix]
Upper Hall had not been mentioned in the rates since 1655 (though as mentioned above, the records between this date and 1663 are missing), and the name remains absent for some time. However, ‘ould hall’ occurs in 1666, on which ‘Mr Ouldershaw’ (see above) pays rates.[l] Although it has been suggested that this building is unlikely to represent Upper Hall,[li] there is perhaps some connection with the Upper Hall manor lands, considering the aforementioned legal dispute between ‘Oldershaw’ and Benskin (see above). If not referring to Upper Hall, ‘old Hall’ might instead represent the building mentioned in the 1616 pew plan (see above). A late 19th century OS map records an ‘Old Hall’ to the north-west of the village, perhaps Nether Hall.[lii] (Local historians with greater knowledge of the area may be able to dismiss or verify this possibility, and comment upon the origins of this building – and whether, instead, the land (and possibly buildings) relates to the ‘Newhall’ mentioned above). By 1668, Thomas Greene becomes the highest rated villager in paying for Old Hall, where he remained until at least December 1671.)[liii]
As noted above, there is a property dispute between the Benskins, Thomas Greene, John Hope, and John Cantrell, in the following year. It has been proposed that Old Hall is partitioned in this year (perhaps indicating the equation of this building and Upper Hall, considering division of the latter seemingly early in its history; otherwise, this change may reflect substantial social changes in the village at this time; John Beighton is named as a tenant.[liv] This surname had appeared in the Hearth Tax return (see above), with reference to a certain Sam. Beighton who paid tax on a single hearth, and to a (petty) constable Samuel Beighton (who was responsible for collecting the tax) – probably either the same person, or close relatives. Chancery records again name Thomas Greene and John Cantrell as plaintiffs (along with a certain John Browne) in a property dispute of 1678, now against Arthur and William Taylor (both alias Leighton).[lv] An Arthur and William Taylor are recorded on the Hearth Tax return, paying 4s and 2s, respectively, the former amount indicating a relatively well-to-do Yeoman dwelling for the time, the latter quite a comfortable house for a successful small tenant farmer or artisan family (see the previous post).[lvi] The William Taylor named c. 1712 as at that time having ‘a good new brick house and estate’ in Nether Hall perhaps represents another family connection.[lvii] Old Hall subsequently seems to disappear from the church rates, and Upper Hall reappears in the assessment for the following year (1679), though without reference to the occupant.[lviii] There is no reference to either Old Hall or Upper Hall in the 1681 assessment.[lix]
The next recorded occupant of Upper Hall is John Cantrell. The Cantrell family appear to have resided in or near the village for some time, with a Thomas Cantrell named on the 1616 pew plan (see above). A John Cantrell pays relatively low rates in the 1619 assessment, though this value very gradually rises over the years.[lx] (This person is perhaps equated with or related to the yeoman John Cantrell who is recorded as owning land in nearby Kings Newton, in his will, proved 1616.)[lxi] He paid only a shilling Hearth Tax, suggesting that he occupies a small house;[lxii] in the following year, he appears on the assessment for the Nether Hall part of the village.[lxiii]
It might be conjectured that John Cantrell did not do badly in the 1672 property dispute mentioned above against the Benskins (which it is presumed sought to establish ownership of manor lands or dwellings). By the early 1680s, the Cantrell family were wealthy members of the local community, the men referred to as ‘gentlemen’ by the early decades of the following century.[lxiv] In 1681, John Cantrell (presumably the elder, suffixed hereafter I) is rated for Lea Wood, located to the west of the Upper Hall village; though the occupant is not recorded, Nether Hall is listed below this entry; John continues to be associated with this manor for several years after.[lxv] The younger John Cantrell (suffixed hereafter II) is described as heading the list for Hartshorne, although the assessment neglects to mention either Old Hall Upper Hall.[lxvi] Upper Hall and Lea Wood lands are assessed together by 1688, though separately from Nether Hall; it is been noted that, though the occupants are not specified, John Cantrell I is involved with approving the accounts.[lxvii] If this comment refers to Nether Hall, this may indicate that by this time, John I either no longer, or had not previously, occupied the Netherhall house, despite paying rates on surrounding land. John (presumably II) paid by far the highest poor rates in 1690 (which assessed land and buildings, rather than goods); the assessment also records Nether Hall, though its occupant is unnamed.[lxviii] The suggestion that John II occupied Upper Hall in the 1681s has been tempered by his marriage settlement of 1694 not mentioning the house.[lxix]
Woolley’s History of Derbyshire records that by 1712, ‘John Cantrell’ (I) occupied Upper Hall, ‘a good brick and stone house’ (note the attempt to play-down the timber-frame construction, which was by this time unfashionable), who owned much of the manor lands, and had done so for some time.[lxx] (Due to apparent OCR conversion inaccuracies in the detailed summary from which most of the information in this section derives; the following reading is therefore likely to be imperfect, and will be modified when mistakes become known.)[lxxi]
In this year, John Cantrell (II), a ‘gentleman’, granted consent for Robert (the younger son of John I, and younger brother of John II) to receive a 500-year lease of the manor house and lands (including receipt of their revenue); John I devised this scheme in order to provide Robert with a share of £1000.[lxxii] The elder John was to continue to hold the manor until his death, when it would transfer to Robert and his trustees for what was left of the 500-year lease, unless John II paid £1000 within 6 months of his father’s death, thereby cancelling Robert’s lease.[lxxiii]
John II died in late 1722 or early 1723, leaving his lands in trust.[lxxiv] His will provided his daughter Anne (born c. 1705: see below) with an annual allowance of £30 derived from their revenue, until her marriage or coming of age, after which she would receive a portion of the £1000.[lxxv] His eldest son John (III, born c. 1704: see below) – again described as a ‘gentleman’ – inherited what was left of the revenue from the estate, which if he had no heirs was to pass to Anne, and if she had no children, to Robert.[lxxvi]
Several chancery cases involving the Cantrell family may have either derived from, or were a cause of, John the elder’s scheme to provide for his dependants. A case of 1722 lists the defendants as John (presumably III), aged 18, Anne, aged 17, and Robert, ‘an infant’, and Robert Orton, the guardian of Anne and Robert, suggesting that by this time their father (John II) had died.[lxxvii] One plaintiff is John Browne – apparently the same person named as plaintiff with John Cantrell in a 1678 property dispute (see above); the others are a Joseph Ragg and one Leonard Piddock.[lxxviii]
A case of the following year (1723) indicates that John II died in debt. The defendants of the previous case are named as plaintiffs in this writ, and referred to as creditors of the recently deceased John Cantrell (II): Joseph Ragg and John Brown are described as yeomen (of a nearby village, and as a previous resident of the manor, respectively), Leonard Piddock is a ‘gentleman’ (of a nearby small town).[lxxix] The defendants were William Orton, Thomas Broad, Anne Cantrell, and Robert Cantrell (both Cantrells still minors at this time).[lxxx] Another case in the same year names as plaintiff, Anne as ‘spinster, an infant (by Richard Orton)’, as she has not yet reached her majority; the defendants are Thomas Broad (described as ‘gentleman’), William Orton, Robert Cantrell and John Cantrell.[lxxxi]
The dispute continues with a case in the next year (1724). Anne is defendant, still an ‘infant’ and acting under the guardianship of Richard Orton, and described as ‘spinster (daughter of John Cantrell, deceased …)’; the plaintiffs are John Cantrell ‘son and heir of said John Cantrell’ (also still legally ‘an infant’), ‘William Orton and Thomas Broad (executors of said John Cantrell, deceased)’, and Robert Cantrell.[lxxxii] Anne (by then aged 20) yet again seeks justice in the following year (1725), bringing a case against William Orton and John Cantrell, ‘an infant aged 18 years, ([acted for] by William Noon)’; the age of this John suggests the possibility that he may not be her brother, but another family member.[lxxxiii]
Perhaps in the following year, John III and the executors of his father’s estate (named in the above mentioned chancery case of the previous year as William Orton and Thomas Broad)[lxxxiv] mortgaged Upper Hall manor house, lands, and buildings, paying Robert his share of the £1000, ending his lease on the property. The chancery records document what seems to be a final case in this year (1726), between the defendants Ann (evidently unmarried, and before her 21st birthday, as still a ‘spinster’ and ‘infant’), with Robert Orton, against Robert Cantrell.[lxxxv] Other chancery cases might provide further information on the property.[lxxxvi]
It seems that John I lived at the Hall until 1729[lxxxvii] – at which time (it might be speculated) perhaps he died. By early 1729 or 1730, a Cantrell ‘heiress’ (most likely Anne) had married William Cant, a ‘gentleman’ of Nether Broughton, Leicestershire.[lxxxviii] At around this time, John Cantrell III (who was then also residing in Broughton) mortgaged the manor and hall to his ‘brother-in-law’ ‘as security’ of his sister’s share of the £1000, and it is assumed that the couple took up residency of Upper Hall.[lxxxix]
William Cant still held the Hall and lands in 1765, named as ‘Lord of the Manor’ when giving consent ‘for a cottage to be set up for Abraham Harvey’, dated to 17 May.[xc]
A final note that may be of interest to modern readers is the (albeit distant) link between the Hall and international politics (and recent TV period drama!). According to 19th century directories, William Bayley Cant – a grandson of William Cant, who died in 1800 – bequeathed the manor to the Lord Thomas Erskine.[xci] The intended recipient was a lawyer, to whom Cant made the bequest in acknowledgement of his defence of John Horne Tooke, Thomas Hardy, and John Thelwall, who were tried for high treason in 1794. The case, an important test for British constitutional rights, was portrayed in the superb (though not always entirely accurate historically) BBC series, Garrow’s Law (Series 1, Episode 4). However, a legal error with the will resulted in John Murcot, Esq. holding the manor, through a certain Miss Partridge (cousin and heiresses of Cant).[xcii]
Now familiar with the characters that lived in and were involved with Upper Hall during the first two centuries after construction, the reader is invited to look inside the dwelling, to discover what home life was like in the 17th century for the families discussed above. The next post, ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: A 17thcentury South Derbyshire Home’, explores the everyday existence of the Benskin family, by exploring their home.
[i] In the UK, archaeological studies generally define the Early Modern period as the time after the late medieval era, and before widespread industrialisation, i.e. most commonly mid 16th – mid 18th centuries. For a discussion of the term, see the preceding post ‘An Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’.
[ii] For information on the circumstances of access to the property, see ‘Expedition into the Past’ (op. cit.).
[iii] In order to retain the privacy of the occupants, the full address of this property is withheld.
[iv] The names of the occupants of Upper Hall, and approximate dates when the property changed hands, were initially obtained from a small pamphlet on the property compiled by South Derbyshire Conservation Officer Philip Heath, printed by SDDC in 2000, revised 2011, provided by the owners of the property during the visit. Further information from Daniel and Samuel Lysons, 1817 Magna Britannia, pp. 176-77; and with regard to the family and estate in the 16th century, the village Parish Council website.
[v] Ralph Benskin was given the status of ‘Yeoman’ in the mid 16th century (Parish Council, ibid.), which is also given to John Benskin (perhaps his son or grandson) of in his 1637 will (National Archives, Prob. 11/175/408).
[viii] Village Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[ix] Rated at £20 (ibid.), which according to the National Archives Historic Currency Calculator, is approximately equivalent to £4000 in today’s money (which seems a reasonable estimate), and could pay the wages of a builder for three days (which seems less reasonable!).
[x] ‘Tree ring’ dating of timbers from the hall provide a bracket of 1618-28 (Heath, op cit., note iv.).
[xi] See William Woolley, c.1712, History of Derbyshire (Trans. & ed. Catherine Glover and Philip Riden 1981, Derbyshire Record Society, Vol. 6, pp.153-5, Date accessed: 16 October 2014). However, legal records perhaps allow for a transcription error, whereby the ‘Berkins’ of this text (who held property in Newhall before selling to Thomas Coulson – another named that appears several times in a variety of records: see below) might instead be read as ‘Benskin’, the family might still be associated with an earlier Hall, before Upper Hall was built. The numerous chancery cases, including several involving members of the Benskin family, that dispute property ownership in the villages, will be discussed briefly below.
[xii] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[xv] Bagshaw’s Trade Directory of Derbyshire, 1846.
[xvi] Photo: copy of a document on display in the parish church.
[xvii] John I was rated at 8s.10d. in 1619, more than twice as much as the next highest payer (James Royle); 9s.4d in 1620; and in 1627 at 10s.6d. and 10s.5d., in the summer and winter assessments, respectively. John II is first rated in 1627 at 5s., appearing in only in the summer (earlier) rates assessment. In 1628, his relative Samuel Benskin was rated at 2d. (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xviii] The 1629 Mr Benskin (it must be presumed John I) is recorded as first paying 16s. rates on his livings, and then 8s. for his new house; in addition he paid £l.l0s.ld. rates on beasts and sheep – again the highest for the village. Samuel Benskin paid 12s. on his house (though lower than John I, only one other person paid this amount, with others paying no more than 9s.4d.), and 7s.2d. on beasts and sheep; John II was un-rated for this assessment (ibid.).
[xix] Heath (op cit., note iv.).
[xx] Woolley records that the Upper Hall manor land was held in the early 16th century by a daughter (under William Abbot) of John Ireland, after the death of their father; the Compton family is described as owning land from the mid 16th century (op cit., note xi.). However, this source is scanty, confused, and perhaps inaccurate, and ownership of the lands in the 17th century is uncertain within one local history (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.). Legal records perhaps allow for a transcription error, whereby ‘Berkins’ might instead be read as ‘Benskin’.
The complexities of land and / or property ownership in the villages is complex and frequently contested (with several chancery cases involving members of the Benskin family, potentially indicating their ownership of some manor land, as well as dwellings), as will be seen below. The attribution of some family members as ‘gentleman’ in the second half of the 17th century may also suggest land ownership: see below.
[xxii] In 1630 John I continued to pay the highest rates, though this had dropped to 8s.10d.; Samuel Benskyn paid the next largest amount at 3s.2d (with no one else paying above 2s.lld.); John II is again rated, but at only a few pence. John I is recorded as paying 4s. rates on the Upper hall in 1635 and 10s.4d. on his goods or beasts and sheep. His son John (II) paid 5d. for the residue of the ‘Halls and Roes’ tenements (on part of which one Thomas Mellor paid 16d.), with a joint payment of 16d. for goods (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xxiv] National Archives (Prob. 11/175/408).
[xxv] In 1635, Samuel Benskyn paid 3s. for the Nether Hall, with his goods rated at 3s.3d. (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xxvi] During and after 1638, now the head of the family, John II paid 4s.8d. on his living and 9s.4d. on goods; Samuel Benskyn was paying 3s. and 4s.6d., respectively (ibid.).
[xxvii] In 1655, John II paid 7s.7d. and Samuel Benskyn 4s.3d. (with only one other paying more than 3s.); the assessment from 1655 to 1663 are missing (ibid.).
[xxviii] National Archives, C 5/406/122; other cases may relate to the relevant Derbyshire families, though this possibility needs verification, e.g. .a case in 1652 (C 6/118/123), regarding property at nearby Melbourne and Kings Newton, involving one Thomas Benskin – perhaps son of John II (Rivett v Rivett. Plaintiffs Theodore Rivett and John Bucknall; defendants William Rivett, Mary Rivett, Bryan Beanly and Thomas Benskin), is particularly interesting, and could provide insight into the location and extent of lands farmed by the Benskin and Cantrell families (see below).
[xxix] See Woolley (op cit., note xi.).
[xxx] The church rates assessments are missing 1655-63 (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xxxi] In January of 1661 or 1662, Samuel Benskin [of the village in which Upper Hall is located] is described as a gentleman, when his son James is taken on as an apprentice distiller, James Etwall, in London (John Palmer, n.d. The Wirksworth Website).
[xxxii] For information on the Hearth Tax, see ‘Expedition into the Past: Tales of a 17th Century Derbyshire Manor House’. Thomas Coulson (perhaps the ‘Captain Thomas Colson’ recorded as owing property in Newhall during or after the late 16th century in Woolley’s History of c. 1712, op cit., note vi.) pays the highest amount, at 8s.. This compares to John Benskin’s payment of 7s., suggesting that Coulson’s house had an additional hearth, and therefore may have been either larger, or better appointed. The odd amount is due to this being the first collection: in subsequent years, two yearly collections were made, resulting in a payment of 2s. for each hearth p.a. (1662 Hearth Tax return, op cit.: note vi.). Thomas Coulson is perhaps the ‘Captain Thomas Colson’ recorded as owing property in Newhall during or after the late 16th century in Woolley’s History of c. 1712 (op cit., note xi.).
[xxxiv] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[xxxv] John II and his sons pay 8s.10d.; Coulson pays 9s. (ibid.).
[xxxvi] Samuel Benskyn pays 7s.10d. (ibid.).
[xxxviii] Hearth Tax return 1662, op cit. (note vi.).
[xxxix] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
Family disputes continue in the 1680s, though most likely regarding land or other property outside the village. A writ is issued (ibid.: C 6/279/15) regarding the personal estate of the deceased Robert Granger by ‘Elizabeth Granger ‘widow’ (likely to be the daughter of John II: see family tree, above) and her possible brother, Thomas Benskin, in 1685 against William Tomlinson, Walter Bagnold and Alexander Walthall. At least one the defendants had married a Benskin daughter: the parish records record that Jana (an abbreviation of Johanna) Benskin married Walter Bagnold in the village, on 23 January 1611 (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xli] Later maps record a ‘Coppice Farm’ to the northeast of the village (OS 1:2500 1st Ed. Sheet).
[xlii] John Benskyn pays 4s.10d. (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xliii] Samuel pays 7s.10d., and Richard 2s.8d. (ibid.).
[xlv] One Robert Greene is listed as paying a shilling Hearth Tax in the 1662 return (op cit., note vi.).
[xlvii] In 1675, Richard Benskin [of the village in which Upper Hall is located] is recorded as ‘son of Richard…gentleman’ being apprenticed to the Waxchandler Paul Ridly, March 1675 (London Apprenticeship Abstracts, 1442-1850).
[xlviii] Thomas paid 7s.10d. (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[xlix] The exact dates of some disputes, recorded as taking place between 1558 and 1714, require verification at the National Archives, e.g. between Benskin and Cantrell: C 22/236/53; C 22/238/13, and C 22/329/41; also with Royle (C 22/418/23).
[l] Mr Ouldershaw is recorded as paying 2.10d. (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[lii] Ordnance Survey, op cit. (note xli.).
[liii] Thomas Greene pays 7s.8d. on this property (Parish Council: op cit., note iv.).
[liv] John Beighton paid 5s.; the Old Hall is rated at 7s.7d. in 1679 (ibid.).
[lv] National Archives, C 6/209/13. Though perhaps a coincidence, the similarity between the uncommon alias, and name of the Old Hall tenant, the conjecture of either an early spelling mistake in the records, or later transcription error, and the same family (Beighton) being involved in litigation, tenancy, and taxation might be looked into further.
[lvi] Hearth Tax return, 1662, op cit. (note vi.).
[lvii] Woolley, op cit. (note xi.).
[lviii] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[lx] The 1619 assessment records 15 rate payers in the village who pay less than John Cantrell, though this is likely to be a comparatively small amount; in 1629 he pays 2s., and in 1638 he pays only 6d. on his living, and ls.8d. on goods (ibid.).
[lxii] Hearth Tax return 1662, op cit. (note vi.).
[lxiii] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[lxiv] Woolley (op. cit., note xi.).
[lxv] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.)
[lxviii] Cantrell paid 17s., nearly twice the amount of the next highest occupier, who paid 9s.6d.; 7s.10d was paid on Nether Hall (ibid.).
[lxix] The entry for Nether Hall, which has no name provided, follows that for Lea Wood; John Cantrell Jnr. pays 7s.7d. (ibid.).
[lxx] Woolley (op cit., note xi.).
[lxxi] This author has found it difficult to interpret the series of events regarding ownership and lease of manor lands from the online summary, which appears to contain textual (apparently OCR recognition) errors; differentiating between the many and various ‘Johns’ is also at times difficult! For example, difficulties derive from the comment that John Cantrell the elder still occupied the Hall in 1792, and was still living in 1796 (Parish Council, op cit.: note iv.).
[lxxii] Robert is described as previously abiding in the City of London, but at that time being a Hartshorne haberdasher, and John II as at that time living in Cirencester (ibid.).
[lxxv] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[lxxvi] Ibid.; the text reads ‘1796’ for this act, though it is anticipated that inaccurate OCR recognition is at fault for converting what should be 1726 to this figure – see note lxxi.
[lxxxiii] Ibid., C 11/2387/27. A further dispute (C 11/525/12) regarding property within the region may or may not involve the young John mentioned in the previous chancery case (a person called Piddock is also mentioned: see above); if relevant, it provides names and other details for members of the extended Cantrell family.
[lxxxvii] Parish Council (op cit., note iv.).
[xci] Daniel and Samuel Lysons (op. cit, note iv.).
[xcii] Ibid.; John Murcot possibly continues to own the manor for some time, being mentioned three decades later as a property owner (though not resident) in Derbyshire, Stephen Glover (Thomas Noble ed.) 1830 The Peak Guide.
This introductory post is the first in a series that discusses home life during the 17th century, through standing buildings and contemporaneous domestic material culture (some of which archaeological excavations have uncovered, and some of which survive in situ in houses that are still standing), considering a range of written evidence alongside material sources. This series was inspired by a recent visit to an early 17th century private home (‘Upper Hall’), built in the Swadlincote area during the 1620s to house a prosperous farming family.[i]
The unusual level of preservation of Upper Hall, with many surviving historic features (most likely due to the presence of tenants limiting 20th century modernisations), makes this building a particularly interesting topic for investigation. Furthermore, the current owners are clearly sympathetic to the historical significance of the building, and have sourced fixtures, fittings, and furnishings compatible with the period of construction, and with modifications made in the 18th and 19th centuries. Though a comfortable living home today, this attention to detail brings alive the history of the dwelling, capturing aspects of the domestic material world for the well-to-do householder in the Early Modern period.[ii]
The primary aim of writing this series is to disseminate information on this property. Through viewing the interior, much might be learnt about domestic life; the residents not only went to the trouble of taking us around their home and pointing out (and explaining) historic features, but also of showing us the artefacts that they had found in the garden, sharing a wealth of knowledge during our visit. They have very kindly granted for LIPCAP consent to display photographs taken during the visit on our website.
This visit (and the writing of these posts) provided a useful opportunity to revise knowledge of early modern domestic contexts,[iii] which when considered alongside other bodies of evidence – such as burials and mortuary memorials of this period – potentially enables a more rounded consideration of life in the early modern past.[iv]
As research into the property developed, the wealth of readily available relevant sources soon became apparent: family histories, Hearth Tax returns,[v] and records relating to several chancery cases, suggested the possibility of going beyond basic analyses and historical contextualisation of material evidence. The content of easily accessible written evidence opened up the possibility of attempting a form of detailed interpretation that, though less frequently adopted within British archaeology than by archaeologists in North America and Australia, holds the potential to provide a perspective on the past in a format that might be more meaningful than is usual.
Posts describing the property will adopt an ‘archaeological story-telling’ approach – an unconventional, but well-established, genre that brings the material culture of the past back to life through imaginative rendering of historical contexts.[vi] The resultant ‘tales’ differ from historical fiction in both method and intent, presenting detailed, accurate archaeological and written evidence (usually incorporating primary research) within a fictitious narrative. This process aims to interpret sources in a way that might capture the historical imagination of a wider audience than are usually attracted to academic texts (though an academic audience is not excluded). Though set in the mid 17th century, the stories will at times jump forward to later periods, in order to consider features of historic interest that date to after this time.
This particular endeavour represents only the early stages of research: time and financial constraints, restricted mobility, and limited access to resources, have not permitted examination of previous archaeological reports, which the author hopes to achieve in the future. After further research (and taking into consideration any feedback that readers might provide), this series of posts will most likely be modified, and may be developed within a collection of similar articles addressing a range of historical domestic contexts (hopefully including sites of particular interest encountered through LIPCAP fieldwork). For the time being, these narratives incorporate preliminary evidence, as seen during the visit to the property; information provided by the occupants; data within the Historic Environment Records;[vii] information from reports outlining archaeological investigations carried out within the immediate vicinity of the building;[viii] and that derived from independent investigations into family, local, regional, and wider histories.[ix]
Posts will use the photographs of interior historic features taken during our tour of the house,[x] with interpretations drawing upon what remains of the early fabric of this building, and the material culture used within comparable housing (i.e. dwellings in this area, and elsewhere of similar and lower status). This approach enables the consideration of everyday domestic life and environment during the early phases of occupation within this dwelling, although in a less detailed way than might be achieved by a more detailed archaeological standing building investigation. Although it considers buildings and other material from outside the East Midlands (including artefacts manufactured in Britain but discovered through excavations in former British colonies), the series concentrates upon Derbyshire – in particular, the southern districts of the county. Being rich in early modern buildings, and incorporating LIPCAP study areas, this area is of special interest to the Living in the Past Community Archaeology Project.
For those who might wish to know a little more about housing and household material culture in the 17th century, a supplementary post ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: the 17th Century Home’ considers the typical artisan house, outlining domestic life for the family of the less wealthy ‘yeoman’.[xi] This may be used as a comparison for the more affluent home we are about to visit, highlighting the high status of those who lived within Upper Hall, and the relative splendour of their home environment. This supplement also considers the influence of late medieval halls upon the dwellings of yeomen, and the development of different social categories, in the 17th century. Where descriptions of the interiors, objects, culture, and society within the narrative posts do not go into detail, readers may refer to the supplementary and other posts for further information.
Though what follows represents only preliminary work (as it has not yet been possible for the author to obtain copies of previous publications), it lays out the initial stages of multi-disciplinary historical research that holds potential to go beyond descriptions of domestic material culture and environment, and the practicalities of home life, in the early modern period. Feedback from readers on the ‘story-telling’ method (or other issues) will be welcome, so that the process might be refined, although it may not be possible to respond individually to comments.
The next section of this post will provide an outline of the series, should readers have an interest in any particular aspect of the topic.
Following on from this post, ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: the 17th Century Home’, considers housing for those categorised at the time as ‘yeoman’ – the social group to which the person who built Upper Hall attested as belonging.[xii] During and after the 17th century, the ‘middling sort’ essentially developed from this group:[xiii] artisans, trades-people, and small holders, with means beyond those of the poor husbandmen, but not as high status (nor often as wealthy) as the landed gentry.[xiv] This expanding group both benefited financially and enhanced their own comfort (and increasingly social position), through recent and continuing growth in trade and commerce – concomitant consumerism, providing a broader range of household material culture, with more opportunities to emulate that of wealthier and higher status homes.
This post acts as a counterpoint to those describing the Hall, and illustrates and discusses domestic material culture found in less substantial homes, through to more high status households.
The third post examines family and social relationships within and beyond the village, considering inheritance, including (through numerous chancery court records) disputes over land ownership, and perhaps possession of the Hall. Although the latter concerns ostensibly tedious and complex legal disputes, by studying this material alongside archaeological evidence and other historical sources, we may ultimately learn much about everyday life and death in the past. Such information holds the potential to elucidate the mutability of family ties and social bonds at this time: family and community cooperation and conflict emerge from this body of evidence. It is therefore a useful source with regard to attitudes towards group identities and individuality, the acquisition and transference of ‘goods’ (and perhaps the growing power of consumerism), and processes by which social status is constructed and transformed during this transitional period.
The fourth Upper Hall post begins the archaeological story-telling posts, using documentary sources to contextualise the material evidence encountered at Upper Hall. We follow the petty constable Samuel Beighton as he approaches the manor house in 1662 in order to carry out checks for the first Hearth Tax.[xv] His journey provides opportunities not only to consider the appearance of house, but also the social and cultural environment of the day.
In this first story, Samuel travels from the nearby church and along the main road of the village, encountering traffic en route to market. When he arrives at the property Samuel knocks at the front door and looks at the outside of the building, reflecting upon the status of the resident family – the Benskins, and comparing this grand house to neighbouring buildings.
In this second archaeological narrative, we follow Samuel around the ground floor and cellars of Upper Hall, during his visit to determine whether the Master of the house, John Benskin, has been honest in his tax return. This provides constable Beighton with an opportunity to see how those with good fortune live: he sees servants about their daily tasks, and gazes upon the decor and fine things that fill the manor house, as he is shown each room. But with dusk approaching, Samuel must leave to return another day…
As Christmas draws near, and time must be applied to other LIPCAP tasks (including a second 1930s House Xmas Open Day – see what happened last year here), there will be a break in Upper Hall series. If sufficient interest has been shown in the above posts, and if other commitments permit, the series will continue in the New Year with:
Onwards and Upwards: exploring a 17th Century Home in South Derbyshire
Out back: exploring a 17th Century Home in South Derbyshire
The third story (‘Onwards and Upwards’) will follow Samuel Beighton when he returns to Upper Hall in order to investigate the bedrooms of the first floor, and attic rooms, in order to search out hearths that Master Benskin might be trying to conceal so to avoid paying the twice-yearly tax on these features.
The final archaeological story (‘Out back’) examines the back of the house and outbuildings, in search of further hearths. As in the other stories, we travel forward in time to explore later buildings, such as the washhouse and privy.
We hope that you enjoy these posts – please let us know if you do, or if you have any thoughts on how they might be improved.
In the mean time, sign up for the blog email list, to receive notifications of new articles – including extracts from a Victorian book on folklore in Derbyshire, which shall this time look at Christmas customs, beliefs, and rituals.
[i] In order to retain the privacy of the modern occupants, the full address is withheld. Should this information be sought for genuine research purposes, please contact the project (using the website form), so that the author might pass on enquiries to the residents (who are, however, under no obligation to release this information).
[ii] There are various definitions for the term ‘Early Modern’ within and between the different fields of study concerned with historic buildings and domestic material culture. Archaeological studies in Britain tend to see the Early Modern period as beginning at the start of the post-medieval era (which itself is accorded different points in the late 15th – mid 16th centuries). The termination of the Early Modern era is usually seen as coinciding with the widespread effects of the ‘Industrial Revolution‘, i.e., broadly the late 18th century. Here, the beginning of the post-medieval period, as defined by English Heritage and Historic Environment curators, i.e. AD 1540, will be adopted as a very general starting point for the Early Modern era. However, it must be made clear that this historical period, as with others, has been defined by historians for analytical purposes, and does not necessarily reflect the way that people at the time saw themselves as situated within an era of specific cultural change or continuity.
[iii] During undergraduate studies (long, long ago…) the author was given the opportunity to conduct a standing building investigation of a 17th century cottage in Lincolnshire, which both provided grounding in detailed archaeological building surveys, and sparked an interest in early modern vernacular housing (for more background information, see note iii, ‘Living in the Early Modern Past: the 17th Century Home’)
[v] For more information on the Hearth Tax, see Hearth Tax Online – the website of the Centre for Hearth Tax Studies at the University of Roehampton. For hearth tax records, see the National Archives online catalogue.
[vi] The ‘story-telling’ approach is applied and considered within a range of works (e.g. Gibb, James G. 2000 ‘Imaginary, But by No Means Unimaginable: Storytelling, Science, and Historical Archaeology’, Historical Archaeology 34(2), pp.1-6; Beaudry, Mary C. 2005 ‘Stories That Matter: Material Lives in 19th Century Lowell and Boston, Massachusetts’, Post-Medieval Archaeology, Monograph 3, pp.1-20). This method presents the facts uncovered through the study of historical material remains within a narrative framework intended to convey the social and cultural environment to the modern reader; the author has found such an approach most effective when teaching archaeology in adult education, and to the general public.
[viii] A watching brief consists of the observation by archaeologists of construction work within historically sensitive areas, to see what historical information might be revealed through excavations, and as a precaution against damage to any hitherto unknown buried remains.
Various archaeological reports are freely available on the ‘grey literature’ (unpublished reports) section of the Archaeological Data Service (ADS) website, here. In order to retain the privacy of the current occupants, this information is not cited in detail here, due to its inclusion of the address.
[ix] Sources includes parish records and other material associated with the nearby parish church; brief investigation of local industries, particularly ceramics; contemporaneous taxation reports; family history information obtained from public sources, and extended through independent research, e.g. using parish and ecclesiastical records, and documents such as wills, apprenticeship records, and chancery court records, obtained from the National Archives, and other sources. Several unpublished archaeological reports have been completed on the property: should the opportunity subsequently arise to access these documents, this post may be updated with additional information, or a new update post published.
[x] The images of Upper Hall that illustrate the narrative of this series were taken during an open day in Autumn 2014, preventing use of tripod, scale and technical photographic techniques, and precluding the production of a representative archaeological record (in order to avoid obstructing other visitors and residents, and with limited time). Photographs are displayed on this website with the kind permission of the residents of this property; in attempting to avoid the exhibition of personal belongings, some areas, or sections of rooms, were not photographed. All images of the building and associated artefacts are ©LIPCAP, and may not be reproduced without the express permission of the LIP project and property owners.
[xi] Those categorised, and self-identifying, as ‘yeoman’ belonged to a broad social group that ranged from the tenant farmer of modest means, to the better-off, land-owning, farmer. However, in comparison to terms previously used to denote social status (e.g. see here for the 16th century) those used in the 17th century (such as within wills and inventories) are less easily defined. The changing nature of commerce, economy, and social organisation at this time may have resulted in greater ambiguity surrounding the terms ‘yeoman’ and ‘husbandman’, as opportunities to accumulate capital beyond landownership expanded. For example, potters of the late 17th century might be defined as yeomen, presumably due to their independent social position and accumulation of wealth through trade (e.g. see Lorna Weatherill 1971 The Pottery Trade and North Staffordshire, 1660-1760, p 148). However, in representing landownership (the ‘yeoman’ being of the higher status, as a freeholder), the term yeoman appear to remain significant well into the 19th century.
[xii] See note xi.
[xiii] Freely accessible research on the development of the ‘middling sort’ includes ‘The Search For The ‘Middle Sort’ of People’ In England, 1600–1800‘, by H R French (2000); and
in Google Books, sections of Margaret R. Hunt’s 1996 The Middling Sort: Commerce, Gender, and the Family in England, 1680-1780.
[xiv] Husbandmen were typically small-scale tenant farmers, and farm hands, i.e. of lower status, and less well off, than the yeoman. The ‘gentry’ – ‘gentlemen’ – often owned large areas of land, and / or held professional positions (e.g. lawyers, doctors, and some clergy).
[xv] For information on the petty constable, see E. Trotter (ed.) 1980 Seventeenth Century Life in the Country Parish, p. 83 ff..
A webpage ‘At Home in WWI Exhibition: Exploring Life on the Home Front through household Objects‘ outlining the content of LICAP’s recent First World War centenary exhibition ‘At Home in WWI‘ describes and illustrates the displays on show, and is available by following this link.
Less than a week to go now until the exhibition! Still lots to do, but we have more to show now after the preparations began in March.
We hope to include information on Mr Grundy – after whom the pub ‘next door’ to our exhibition venue is named, where this WW1 soldier lived after the war. One of our volunteers is working on a display that brings together the information already gathered by staff on Mr Grundy – to whom we’re very grateful for his kindness in not only sharing this information with us, but also for going to the trouble of getting copies ready for us.
We also hope to provide displays on a few local people – some ancestors of those involved with the exhibition – who served in the Great war; we are fortunate in being permitted to display some *fantastic* photos from the period, which I really look forward to seeing printed out, as well as other mementos and keepsakes.
‘Living in the Past’ (LIPCAP) is a community archaeology project that works with occupants of pre-WWII housing, and other members of the public, to explore everyday life in the past, principally through standing building, garden, rubbish tips, and graveyard, surveys.
The pilot phase of the project ran over several years, primarily examining working-class houses and related contexts of the late Victorian period to WWII, within urban industrial neighbourhoods in Derby, East Midlands, UK.
In response to preliminary investigations, focus of the project’s next phase in some ways broadens, and in others narrows, to examine domestic and related contexts within the wider county of Derbyshire (occasionally beyond).
Case studies include rural and urban sites from the late 16th – early 19th centuries, comparing accommodation and other aspects of material culture associated with a wider range of socio-economic groups, from the destitute, to the aristocracy.
In this way, we may better compare the effects of poverty, wealth, and social mobility upon beliefs and behaviours, considering the affects of increasing urbanisation, commerce, and industrialisation upon daily life.
By attention to detail, we might explore the often otherwise ‘silent’ material expressions of identities, relationships, and emotions – in particular of those less often given a voice: the poor; women and children; and migrants.