MR TUCKER'S LIFE PRESERVER, EXETER, 1842.

"Mr. Tucker was proceeding, late at night, along the bottom of Paris-street,  when a female came up to him, and said,  'My dear, are you good natured?'   He declined to answer her at first, and to a second interrogation to the same effect, merely replied that his many years attendance on the poor as a poor doctor, had sufficiently established his reputation for good nature.

"Two fellows then walked up, and one exclaimed, 'How's Mr. Barnes?'   Mr. Tucker made no reply.  The other then put the same question.  Mr. Tucker still said nothing.  One of the desperadoes then put his hand to his collar.   Mr. T. immediately made a blow at him with his life preserver.  This desperate hit took effect in the mouth of the villain.  He immediately staggered off,  his teeth rattling on the pavement like a small shower of hail stones.  Mr Tucker had the satisfaction of seeing that if he did not stop the robber, he succeeded in stopping his teeth.  This fellow was no sooner struck, than the worthy doctor swung the life preserver - since called a Tucker - round with a vengeful aim, and with so much effect,  that the second rascal took to his heels with what the Gazette calls 'the alacrity of a policeman'

"The particulars of this attack and discomfiture we derive from the police at the Station House, where they were communicated by the worthy doctor himself.  But the incident of the teeth is from a popular version of the affair - Mr. Tucker being no braggadocio, does not vaunt of his own prowess."

*

A Victorian life-preserver was a mini mace, a short rattan handle and an articulated, heavy, often leaded, striking ball.   The force was in the swinging, a skill which Mr. Tucker had clearly mastered. 

"My dear, are you good natured?"  sounds to me to have been a meme of the 'ladies of the town', rather more subtle than the 'wanna good time, love?'  which once echoed from Soho doorways. 

Mr. Barnes, another doctor, had been beaten and robbed by this same trio on the Barnfield road that same evening.

It would have been fun if The Times had established its neonism,  never go without your tucker &c., but it seems it was not to be.

'Alacrity of a policeman'  these days could only be heavy sarcasm.

A poor doctor was not necessarily poor, just as a diabetic nurse is not necessarily diabetic.  It is unlike the Victorans to use a linguistic shortcut that could lead to confusion.  Like Winston Churchill, let us in general prefer not to use hyphens but they would help here.

Braggadocio/braggadochio is, surprisingly, a word invented by Spenser for The Faerie Queen,  at least so says my Encyclpaedic Dictionary, 1895.

Source: The Western Times,  20 August, 1842.

A DAWLISH BOATMAN'S EVIDENCE, EXETER, 1842

"I am a boatman in the coast guard service;  on the night of the 23rd April I was on duty;  it was my duty to meet the officer to communicate with him at Pocombe Lane at one in the morning; about that time I was proceeding there, and had to go into the lane between Teignmouth and Dawlish, when I came near Mr. Phillott's house, I met about ten men;  I haled them, 'who comes here?'  It is our duty to hail people when we meet at that time.....George Smith, one of them, said d--- your eyes what is that to you;  he then struck me a blow with a stick and knocked my hat off;  I had my cutlas in my hand, raised it to fend off the blow, and the scabbard flew off;  I made a cut at him and he fended it off with a stick - which flew out of his hand.  The whole of the party surrounded me.  I told them to keep off me and let me alone, or by God, I would cut some of their heads off.  William Hole then struck me a blow on the right cheek; I then fell back and fired my pistol as an alarm shot, the mode by which we signalize each other.  I knew Hole.  the party all fell on me when I fired my pistol.  I retreated back, defending myself with my cutlas, my foot caught in a stone and I fell down.  I then fired my pistol which was loaded with ball, I did not fire at them as I could not have missed them if I had.  William Hole then seized my arm, and took the pistol out of my hand, they seized my cutlas, and cut the string by which it was fastened round my wrist.   William Hole jumped upon me, kicked me, and got the pistol out of my hand.  The others kicked me when I was down - one of the gang sung out, heave the ------ over the cliff." 

*

This was the second time Boatman Edward Welch/Welsh had given evidence to an Exeter Assize Court with reference to this assault.  In April four of the men who attacked him had each been gaoled for four months but justice(?) had only now (The Western Times of 30th July 1842) caught up with William Hole.  The judge who passed sentence on the others said that if the offence for which they were convicted had been committed in the pursuit of any smuggling transaction, the sentence would have been much more severe.

The lads, who did not really want to throw the bugger (what else?) over the cliff, had been drinking in a Dawlish inn.  (St. George's Day?)   Their friends told judge and jury that these were, "peaceable, steady, respectable men" but Edward Welsh clearly found them otherwise.  It is an open question whether they attacked Edward Welsh because he was an exciseman or because he was that silly bugger, Edward Welsh, challenging them with his cutlass and his two pistols.

The Times spelled cutlass with one or two esses dependent on the phases of the moon.

His officer in his evidence said that Welsh had been given orders to challenge with Who goes there?, but our hero clearly preferred Who comes here?!

William Hole was imprisoned for four months with hard labour.

VAN AMBURGH, EXETER, 1842.

"This celebrated lion tamer entered this city on Monday morning, with his collection of lions, tigers, leopards and other wild beasts, the whole forming a procession such as was never before witnessed in Exeter.

"At the head was a handsome open carriage, containing a band of musicians, drawn by eight fine cream coloured horses, and driven by Van Amburgh himself; a train of caravans containing the various animals followed and the performing elephant marched along with stately strides clothed in oriental style, and bearing a houda filled with aspiring young gentlemen, who eagerly seized the opportunity of having such an unusual ride.  The movements of the elephant were directed by its keeper who sat upon its head.

"A spacious and handsome pavilion for the performance was erected in a field by Summerland-street, and the accommodation afforded was altogether complete.

"The animals exhibited consisted of lions, tigers, leopards, monkeys, a white polar bear, and the stuffed skins of two giraffes.

"In the course of the exhibition Van Amburgh entered two dens containing lions, tigers and leopards, and performed various feats with them, showing that their fierce dispositions had been subdued by his discipline.

"The elephant performed a number of feats, exhibiting wonderful sagacity, and showing that its amazing powers were entirely under the control of its keeper.  -  The elephant left town last evening accompanied to the verge of the city by many hundreds of  the citizens with whom he had become amazingly popular, but less for his bulk than for the docility of his manners and the placidity of his mind. His luggage occupied but little space.  His bed would be found where he stopped, but he had his coverlid on his back and his trunk before him. -  This morning, Mr Van Amburgh drove out of town with wonderful eclat."

*

Mr, Isaac Van Amburgh is a Famous American and there is a full biography for him at Wikipedia.  Of course, he visited everywhere he could  and newspapers up and down the land wrote more of less the same report on his travelling menagerie.  Before he came to Exeter, he was in Sidmouth, and after he left he went to Ashburton to perform.  Two years later he wowed Queen Victoria!

But it is pleasant to think of him processing with all his caravans along the High Street in Exeter, and particularly to think of those happy, little Exeter lads who got to ride in the houda, and the hundreds of citizens who had a soft spot for the placid elephant,  his name was Tipoo Sahib!,  who went to the city's edge to wave him goodbye.

I'm afraid Mr Van Amburgh's training methods would have him up before the magistrates these days.  Still, they were clearly effective.  He is famous for being the first man to have stuck his head into the lion's mouth and taken it out again.  

The Times reporter, we know him by now, couldn't resist the trunk pun.  Coverlid  is a recognised variant of coverlet which I have never seen before. I wonder if it was/is a local usage.  In any case it is pleasing in being closer to the French origin.

Source:  The Western Times,  25th June, 1842.

STEAMING OUT TO SEA, EXE ESTUARY, 1842.

 "The St. George's Company having determined to afford their friends a holiday, last Saturday was fixed on for the day.  The steamer left Topsham at a quarter past nine, having a goodly company on board.

"The morning was lovely;  a gentle breeze rippled the soft bosom of the beautiful Exe - expanded by high-water to a most glorious lake, and tempered the severe heat of the day.

"No river in England surpasses the Exe in its single reach at high-water, from Topsham to its embouchure.  In passing down you have the appearance of a glorious lake with Exeter and the hills behind for its head;  the Cathedral rising proudly above the city - venerable by time, and a thousand goodly associations - As we are on a holiday trip we keep to the bright side of the prospect.

"Turning your gaze to either bank of the river, you have on the one side Powderham Castle with its verdant park, and umbrageous foliage.  The castle presents no aspect so baronial as that which you catch in various openings from the river.  Above it rises Mamhead, with its overhanging woods,  and its proud specimen of classic architecture, in which the particular beauties of the Tudor style have been developed with an undefiled taste, and an exhaustless treasury.

"Leaving its varied beauty, and passing from the heights of Dawlish, we have on the other side of the river the charming Lympstone, with the elegant seat of Sir Trayton Drake, crouching like a beautiful sea bird at the margins of the waters; thence we pass on to Exmouth , from which may be seen, nestlng beneath the heights of Woodbury hill, the picturesque place of our excellent representative, Mr. Divett.

"The steamer at length is passing over the bar, a secret which is indicated by the pallid faces of those who have not sea-going stomachs.  Many citizens are now qualmish, and various specifics are resorted to, all of a conservative tendency, with a view of quieting the constitution, keeping it on its present basis and enabling the inner man to hold its own.  Some resort to a dry biscuit - others fly to brandy - porter is with some a specific.

"'Oh Steward!'   'You'd better go to lee-ward ma'am'.

"As we are walking the waters for pleasure, let us turn from this scene." 

*

I suspect this piece was written by a cub reporter.   Ah well, we all have to learn!

The St George's Company was a serious shipping company that, in Exeter, had an office in the Cathedral Yard. 

This jolly day-party went out to sea in the steamship 'Zephyr' and the continuation of her voyage westward can be read in the pages of The Western Times of 18th June 1842.

There are no surprises here.  These days the splendid distant views of the cathedral are more or less everywhere obscured, although the views of it from corners along Cowick Street are still impressive.  Mr Divett's, Exeter's longest serving(?) M.P.'s, 'seat', Bystock Court, is no longer a 'view' but Powderham  Castle and Nutwell Court, (the seat of Sir Trayton Drake) are still impressive and Lympstone, from the river, despite the intrusive macmansions, is still charming.  Dry-biscuit, brandy and porter have given way to Kwells.  The mouth of the river is no longer its embouchure , an improvement surely, but the Exe when the tide is up is still second to none in its glory. 

  

  

A WITCH FENDER, NEWTON ABBOT, 1842

 "An extraordinary instance of superstition credulity and cunning knavery came to the attention of the Magistrates at Newton Abbot, on Tuesday.

"A young woman of Denbury, having been taken ill, her friends gravely came to the opinion that she had been 'witched' and took her to a man named Thomas of Teignmouth, by trade a shoemaker, but by profession a 'white witch,' or witch fender.

"This imposter confirmed their fears, and insinuated that the mischief had been done by a poor woman, their neighbour, at Denbury.

"One of the means, which he directed to counteract the evil, was to take the girl into a field and exercise her violently for two hours by running tound it, taking care to jump her and shake her about well at the four corners.  This the poor creature performed with such zeal that in a few hours after the girl died.

"The feeling now aroused in the village against the poor old woman, falsely accused, was such that she was obliged to apply to the Magistrates for protection.  They issued a warrant for the immediate apprehension of Thomas....

"....Evidence having been heard,  the witch fender, with the fear of the treadmill before his eyes, .... with the coolest effrontery acknowledged that all his pretended charms were impositions - much to the surprise, and we hope to the edification, of his former patients. some of whom were present, and clamorously demanded restitution of money paid in the purchase of them.

"The case ended in the man's dismissal."

*

It amazes us , perhaps, that belief in malign witchcraft and white-witches who can fend it off persisted, in Devon, so far into the nineteenth century  but this story, from The Western Times of 4th May, 1842, bade me recall how, in 2011, a wave of superstition, flowing from St. James's Palace washed away from our city the world's first Professor of Alternative Medicine and his researchers but not before they had done sterling work.  Superstition, credulity and cunning knavery are always with us! 

The term witch fender would seem to have had common currency in 1842,   Today the word fender seems to be restricted to boats, cars and fireplaces.  The word's meaning is subtly not the same as that of defender, from which it derives, but has clearly the sense of warding off.  

The court did well not to send Thomas to gaol; his treatments sound healthy enough and his former patients were perhaps wrong to want their money back.  Had they not heard of the placebo effect?  And, goodness me!;  what if, in our own time, all the surviving patients of cunning homeopaths were to clamour for their money back?

 

  

THE ROGUE'S MARCH, EXETER, 1842.

 "A man belonging to this fine regiment, named William Smith was, on Monday morning last, drummed out of the regiment, in conformity with the sentence of a court martial by which he had been convicted of repeated acts of petty theft among his comrades.

"The sentence was carried into execution in the usual manner, the prisoner being marched at the head of the regiment, without the confines of the barracks, with a large placard on his back, inscribed with the word 'thief' in large letters, and the band playing 'The Rogue's March.'

"The scene was witnessed by an immense number of spectators.

"The prisoner appeared to treat his disgraceful situation with a great deal of levity; when set at liberty, he tore the badge from his back and retreated into a neighbouring public-house where he regaled himself with a pipe and a half-pint of beer."

*

The 'fine regiment'  was the Scots Greys.  The report is from The Western Times of 7th May, 1842.

Ah!, to have lived in an age when the Army laid on free entertainment for the citizens of Exeter,  There were military funerals. military drummings-out, military reviews, military concerts of a Sunday, military parades, all colourful and lively and serving to please the people and to attract recruits to the service of the nation; even that thieving Bill Smith seemed pleased to contribute to the cause.  

There were many unofficial lyrics to The Rogue's March.  A contemporary one went:

"Fifty I got for selling my coat,/ fifty for selling my blanket./ If ever I 'lists for a sodger again/ the Devil shall be my sergeant."

'Got' and 'coat' is an admirable assonance;  'blanket' and 'sergeant' is just getting the rhyme wrong.  

It would seem that the light-headed, light-hearted, light-fingered Trooper Smith had not been flogged, not fifty lashes, not lately anyway.

   

MR EYRE KINGDON AND THE VAGABOND, EXETER, 1842.

"Mr. Eyre Kingdon," reported The Western Times in 1835, "is a well-meaning young gentleman, of considerable talent, and great zeal." by which The Times meant to convey that, in the newspaper's opinion, John Eyre Kingdon was a  somewhat foolish, young, Tory busybody. They expressed themselves carefully because he was the Mayor's son.

Seven years later, John, no longer so young but married and with a family, resided in one of the smart, new houses at Mount Radford (No. 4) and  seems still to have been a busybody albeit clearly a plucky one or perhaps, one should say that he was an early gentleman consulting-detective predating Sherlock Holmes by some 50 years. Anyway, The Times of April 29th was pleased to report this snippet of news:    

"Mr Eyre Kingdon is well known for his activity in aiding the police to apprehend thieves.  A vagabond went to him the other day, and said, for a pint of beer he would disclose where the spirits stolen from the Cattle Market Inn were 'planted.'

"Mr Eyre gave a quart, proud of the confidence reposed in him.  The fellow then said that the jars were planted in the river, and the thieves intended to fish them up at night.

"Mr. Eyre took his station at an early hour of the night, but the thieves never came to 'fish,' so that he lost his quart and caught a cold. It is possible that the thieves saw him, and would not go to the 'plant'."

*

The Cattle Market Inn was a 'commodious and well-accustomed public-house' in the Bonhay where could be found a 'dancing room' and 'girls of a loose character.'

Newspaper punsters seem to have been more subtle in 1842, 'caught' and 'quart' are so nicely juxtaposed.