Dave – Page 3 – Leggin' Netherton

Accidents, injuries and deaths on the Meltham Branch Line: 1870-1889

The construction of the Meltham Branch Line during the 1860s had resulted in the deaths of at least three people — curious all named James: James Phiney, James Mace and James Beaver — along with numerous injuries, which are detailed in a previous blog post.

The line initially opened for the transportation of goods in August 1868 but a series of landslips caused to the line to temporarily closed. It wasn’t until inspections in May and June the following year that the line was deemed safe for public transportation and the first passenger service left Huddersfield to Meltham on 5 July 1869.

As to be expected, incidents, accidents, and occasionally deaths, continued to occur over the years and the ones that were found during research for the decades 1870 and 1880 are listed below.

01/Aug/1871: Louis Beecher Furniss

Louis Furniss was a painter who had been employed to do work at the various stations on the Meltham Branch Line, including signs and name boards. On the afternoon of Tuesday 1 August 1871, he boarded the Meltham train at Netherton, entering the carriage closest to the engine. En route to Meltham, he leaned out of the carriage door window and struck up a conversation with the train driver. It was unknown if Furniss, who possessed a door key, had unlocked the carriage door or if it hadn’t been secured properly, but it suddenly swung open and he fell out — fortunately, he landed and rolled away from the track rather than falling under the train.

Alerted by the shouts of his fellow passengers, the driver applied the brakes. Furniss was carried unconscious back to the train and laid out on the floor of a first-class carriage. The train, presumably after allowing passengers to get out at Meltham Station, returned to Huddersfield where Louis was taken to Huddersfield Infirmary and his head injuries (described as “severe”) were attended to.¹

Louis Beecher Furniss was born in 1849 in Bradford. He married Mary Quinn in 1871 in Huddersfield and they raised a family of four children. He died in 1912, aged 62.

03/Jun/1875: Samuel Mellor Johnson

According to a few sources, Samuel Mellor Johnson was riding a horse along the Netherton to Meltham turnpike when his horse was spooked by a train passing over the road bridge and he was thrown off and killed. As a result, the approaches the bridge were fenced in.

However, I could find no newspaper articles to confirm this story and there are no death registry entries in Huddersfield for anyone with that (or a similar) name in 1875.

04/Jan/1876: E. Schofield

Reported in the Railway Accidents 1876: Return of Accidents and Casualties (January-March 1876) that goods guard E. Schofield injured his toes at Meltham Station after a heavy object fell on his foot and that this accident was beyond his control.

26/May/1876: George Wood

Reported in the Railway Accidents 1876: Return of Accidents and Casualties (April-June 1876) that “weigh clerk” George Wood injured his foot at Meltham Station during shunting operations.

21/Jun/1876: T. Beaumont

Reported in the Railway Accidents 1876: Return of Accidents and Casualties (April-June 1876) that labourer T. Beaumont “slipped whilst at work on the Meltham Branch, and sprained his back”.

25/Sep/1876: Benjamin Taylor

33-year-old cotton grinder Benjamin Taylor was injured as he alighted from an evening train at Meltham Station on Monday 25 September 1876. He missed his footing and fell between the platform edge and the train, breaking his leg above the ankle. At first he thought it was just a bad sprain and the fracture wasn’t diagnosed until a couple of days later.²

The 1881 Census lists Taylor as a “cotton card grinder”, married to Mary (born in Linthwaite) and with 7 children. The family were living on Calm Lands, Meltham, at the time. He most likely died in 1898, aged 56.

24/Apr/1877: Elijah Ingram

44-year-old American-born Elijah Ingram³ was a cooper employed by Bentley and Shaw Brewery in Lockwood, who lived in Cowcliffe, Huddersfield. On the evening of Tuesday 24 April 1877, at around 5:55pm, he attempted to cross the railway line at Lockwood Station in order to catch the train from Meltham into Huddersfield but was struck by a goods engine travelling at around 30mph in the other direction. He was flung over 10 yards onto the platform. Bleeding profusely from his head injuries, he was carried to the nearby Railway Hotel where a surgeon named Hall attended to him. Elijah never regained conciousness and died after vomiting a large amount of blood.⁴

At the inquest into his death, his widow Ann stated that Elijah was not hard of hearing, but sometimes struggled to understand what was being said to him.⁵ However, he suffered from rheumatism and this affected how quickly he could move.

The driver of the train, Alfred Hinchliffe, told the inquest that he had seen Elijah but that the deceased had his back to the approaching train. Alfred shouted and sounded the train’s whistle, but Elijah had already stepped out onto the line, seemingly unaware, and was hit by the front of the engine. It was also noted that other passengers were near to Elijah but they apparently failed to alert him of his peril.

The jury returned a verdict of “accidental death” and noted that the station employees had taken reasonable precautions to alert passengers that a goods train was due through the station shortly.

One outcome of the tragedy was that the railway company built a subway to join the two platforms at Lockwood Station. Prior to that, passengers on the down line had to cross over the tracks to buy a ticket, before crossing back over again.

19/Nov/1877: William Fletcher

William Fletcher of Outcote Bank, Huddersfield — a painter in the employment of Bagnall & Quarmby of Shipley — was engaged in painting the bridge over the railway line at Meltham Station when the scaffolding he was stood on collapsed. He fell down onto the tracks, sustaining a severe head wound and a spinal fracture. The Huddersfield Daily Chronicle (21/Nov/1877) reported that William was paralysed and there was faint hope of a recovery.

As far as I can see, there were no further newspaper reports about Fletcher and there is no obvious local deaths recorded for that name in 1877. It may be that he was the William Fletcher who was born around 1860 and who died in mid-1878, aged 18. If so, this might help explain the lack of a recorded inquest into his death.

05/Dec/1877: Michael Quinn

Not long after William Fletcher’s accidental fall, Michael Quinn of Holmfirth was employed whitewashing the gable end of the goods warehouse at Meltham Station when the scaffolding he was stood on collapsed. The Chronicle reported that he suffered bruised ribs and that the lime wash, which he had been painting the walls with, had fallen onto his head and splashed his eyes.⁶

This was most likely the Michael Quinn born around 1851 in Holmfirth, the son of Irish labourer Thomas Quinn and his wife Cecilia.⁷ By 1871, 20-year-old Michael was working as a plasterer. The lack of an entry for him in the 1881 Census implies that he was the Michael Quinn who died in 1880, aged only 29.

07/Feb/1878: Collision at Huddersfield

At around noon on Thursday 7 February 1878, a Meltham train collided at a low speed with a waggon at Huddersfield Station. The Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer reported that Rev. Joshua Richard Jagoe (vicar of Meltham Mills) and Rev. E.C. Green (vicar of Christ Church, Helme) were the most seriously injured of the passengers. The guard on the train sustained a scalp wound.

19/Oct/1879: Collapse of Retaining Wall

At around 9pm, Abraham Taylor, a weaver residing at Delph, heard a “loud rumbling noise” outside. Upon investigation, he found a retaining wall in the cutting situated below the farmhouse of Joseph Brook had collapsed onto the line. Although the ”Huddersfield Daily Chronicle” (21/Oct/1879) reported that the debris “had fallen onto the line behind Woodfield House”, the description actually implies the collapse happened on the section between Butternab Tunnel and Netherton Tunnel, which tallies with the location of Brook’s farmhouse at the place known locally as Delves. The collapse may have been caused by the 8:35pm departure from Meltham passing by the spot.

Taylor sent his son to inform plate layer George Moorhouse, who lived nearby at Netherton Fold. Moorhouse inspected the damage and sent word to the signalman at Meltham Junction not to allow any trains onto the branch line. Within a short time, 22 men had been recruited to help move the debris, which was estimated at 60 tons. Work to clear the line carried on throughout the night by lamp light and necessitated cutting away some of the embankment. By mid-morning, the line was declared safe and the 11:07am departure from Huddersfield was allowed to run to Meltham.⁸

13/Jan/1880: Derailment

Just before 9am on Tuesday 13 January 1880, a train heading from Meltham to Huddersfield derailed on a set of points at Meltham Junction, Lockwood. Fortunately the driver was proceeding with caution at the time and, despite the train being full of passengers, no-one was injured.

The Manchester Times (17/Jan/1880) reported that:

The engine, instead of running on the down line, passed into a siding, and was on its way towards a luggage train which was standing there, but with which it did not come into contact. The tender and the first carriage left the line and cut up the permanent way for about twenty yards, but the remained of the the train fortunately kept the metals, and the passengers in that portion were not much inconvenienced. The passengers in the third class carriage were greatly terrified, and got out at the earliest possible moment. Though none of them were injured the whole were more or less severely shaken, and were glad to escape from the train.

A team of workmen from Hillhouse were able to repair the damage within a couple of hours and the line was reopened.⁹

12/Aug/1881: Bradley Jessop

52-year-old plasterer Bradley Jessop, in the employ of William Eastwood Jowett, fell from scaffolding at Meltham Station on Friday 12 August 1881. He suffered a fractured thigh and head wounds, having fallen head-first from a height of 20 feet. Although the initial prognosis looked good for Bradley, he died at 3:45pm on Tuesday 23 August “from exhaustion (the result of the brain injury)” with his wife at his side.¹⁰

The inquest into the death was held on 25 August at Huddersfield Infirmary and was chaired by coroner Mr. Barstow. It was heard that Bradley was one of three men whitewashing the inside of the roof of the railway goods station. For no apparent reason, he tumbled off the scaffold — asked to explain what might have happened, the other workmen felt that he may have overreached himself and lost his footing. His widow stated that, before he died, her husband could give no reason as to why he fell. A verdict of “accidental death” was returned by the jury, who felt that no blame could be attached to anyone else.¹¹

Bradley Jessop was born around 1830 near Berry Brow and appears to have been raised by Francis and Esther Jessop.¹² He married local woman Ruth Percival, daughter of weaver James Percival, at the parish church in Almondbury on 16 March 1851. The couple settled in Berry Brow and raised a family of four children.

Following her husband’s death, Ruth continued to live in Berry Brow with her children and she died in 1886, aged 65.

Coincidentally, in 1867, Bradley was the foreman in charge of a group of men whitewashing at Spring Gardens Mill, Milnsbridge, when 24-year-old plasterer’s labourer Andrew Flynn fell off his plank and was caught up in the factory’s machinery. He died about 7 hours later of his injuries. The jury at the inquest into the death laid no blame on Bradley and returned a verdict of “accidental death”.¹³

Details of the incidents prior to 1870 can be found in a previous blog post.

There is one further blog post detailing accidents from 1890 onwards.

The Grove Inn

Anyone who knows me will know The Grove Inn is my favourite pub in Huddersfield, so I thought I’d have a rummage through the newspaper archives to see what I could find!

It looks like the pub, which is situated on the corner of Spring Grove Street and Merton Street (as shown on the 1906 map below), sprang into existence sometime around 1850 — an auction in August 1857 described it as comprising of the end three of seven “newly-erected” properties.

An article from December 1852 implies that Sir John William Ramsden (after whom John William Street in named) had just unveiled the plans for laying out Spring Grove Street and Swallow Street, which means the properties were probably built in 1853. Various reports from the meetings of the Improvement Commissioners state that work on completing the street continued well into 1854.

The first three landlords were likely as follows…

James Denison
Born around 1828 in Leeds, son of “beerhouse keeper” Benjamin Denison and his wife Mary. Was working as a “journeyman tailor” at the time of the 1851 Census and living with his parents on Spring Street, Huddersfield. Married Sarah Dixon in late 1852 in Leeds. Listed as an “innkeeper and tailor” living on Swallow Street West in 1861 Census. Died 29 July 1870. The 1871 Census lists widow Sarah Dennison as a “retired innkeeper” living on South Street, Huddersfield, so possibly she briefly ran the pub after the death of her husband?
John Hellawell
Born around 1837 (possibly in Leeds?), son of cloth miller William Hellawell. Worked as a cloth miller. Married widow Sarah Davison (aged 33), daughter of farmer John Middleton, on 17 March 1873 at St. Peter, Leeds. Died 9 June 1877.
Sarah Hellawell
Born Sarah Middleton around 1839 in Pontefract, and married to John Hellawell. 1881 Census, widow innkeeper of Grove Inn, 43/45/47 Spring Grove, with children Florence M. (aged 12) and Thomas A. (aged 10). Probably the “Sarah Ann Hellawell” who died 1897 aged 58.

Although I couldn’t find anything to confirm this, it is possible that James Denison’s father, Benjamin, was the landlord before he took over. If that’s true, then possibly Benjamin was the first landlord of The Grove Inn.

Newspaper Articles

Assuming that the pub didn’t change its name in the late 1880s, there are surprisingly few articles in the archives from the period 1850 to 1900, although there can’t be many pubs in Huddersfield that have been linked to acts of cannibalism!

Unless otherwise stated, the articles are from the Huddersfield Chronicle.

1 July 1854

Huddersfield Police Court.
Offence Against the Beerhouse Act.
James Denison, keeper of the Grove Inn, Wood Street, was charged with allowing persons to drink ale in his house on Sunday afternoon, the 25th ult., during the hours of divine service. The officer on duty saw three young men drink two glasses of ale in defendant’s house, at a little after 3 o’clock. It appeared that the parties had been admitted during a heavy storm or rain. Ordered to pay expenses, 6s.

12 May 1855

Huddersfield Police Court.
A Licensed House in Danger.
James Denison, landlord of the Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street, was summoned for permitting unlawful games in his house on the 1st inst. At a quarter to eleven on the night in question Police Constable Ramsden found four men, one of whom was the defendant, playing cards in a small room adjoining the bar. The cards were produced [in court]. Fined 10s. and costs.

Leeds Mercury 12 January 1856

15 August 1857

Sales by Auction.
Lot 1. All those seven newly-erected, substantial, and well-finished MESSUAGES or DWELLING-HOUSES, three of them being now occupied in one, and licensed as an inn, and known by the name or sign of the Grove Inn, with the Yard and Out Offices behind the same, comprising an area of 664 superficial square yards, more or less, situate in Swallow Street and Spring Grove Street, in Huddersfield, in the county of York, held under a lease from Sir J.W. Ramsden for 60 years, from 29th September, 1852, at the yearly rent of £8 6s., with the right of renewal on payment of certain fines, and now in the several occupations of Mr. James. Denison, Mr. William Butler, Mr. John Wood, Mrs. Booth, and Mr. Eastwood, or their undertenants.

12 August 1865

Magistrates in Petty Sessions.
Cannibalism. Biting a Man’s Lip.
John Edwin Eagland, said to be a tall, powerful man, and described as a clogger, of Lindley, was charged with unlawfully assaulting Richard Linton, a man of low stature, labourer, Lowerhead Row. Complainant stated that, on Monday evening he was at the Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street. He and others were talking about a cricket match, when the defendant introduced the subject of jumping. He (Linton) replied that they wanted nothing to do with jumping, and told the defendant to hold his noise. Eagland then said he would kick the complainant out of the place ; and the latter exclaimed that he could not do it. Presently complainant went out, and was followed by defendant, who seized him, and bit a piece out of his lip. The severed lip had had to be sewed, and the complainant had since the assault been unable to follow his occupation. A young man was called to give corroborative evidence. He deposed that the defendant took the complainant by the coat, pulled him down, got his head under his arm, and then bit him. If he had bit half an inch more he would have had all the lip in his mouth. The defendant did not attend in court. The Chairman said the Bench considered this very brutal assault had been fully proved, and they should fine him £2 ; the complainant would be allowed 15s. for the loss of his week’s work ; and the surgeon’s bill 7s. 6d. ; total £3 10s. 6d., or two month’s imprisonment.

John Eagland had previously been found guilty of assaulting Thomas Golden at Thomas Whiteley’s beerhouse, Lindley, in October 1864. In May 1870, he was acquitted of stealing a box of cigars from the Harmonium Inn, Lindley.

25 April 1868

A Novel Political Gathering.
Prior to the polling at the recent election, it was arranged by a number of the supporters of both Mr. Sleigh and Mr. Leatham, that whichever of the candidates might be returned as member for the borough, a dinner should take place at the house of Mr. James Denison, the Grove Inn. In accordance with the arrangement, the feast took place on Tuesday night. About 40 persons partook of the excellent fare. The chair was occupied by Mr. G. Sykes, and the vice by Mr. James Hall. The usual loyal toasts having been given, Mr. Hall proposed the health of “The borough representative, Mr. E.A. Leatham, M.P.,” which was responded to by Mr. F. Curzon. The Chairman then proposed “The unsuccessful candidate, Mr. W. Campbell Sleigh.” Mr. S. Binns responded. The chairman proposed “The Huddersfield Working Men’s Conservative Association,” which was replied to by Mr. T. Nicholls. The chairman next gave “The Huddersfield Liberal Association,” which was acknowledged by Mr. W.K. Croft. Other toasts followed, and addresses were delivered by Messrs. Hall, J.W. Mellor, S. Binns, and others.

18 June 1870

Kirkburton.
Accident.
On Tuesday afternoon a child, belonging to Edward Heys, chemist, in the employ of Mr. Herbert Sugden, Woodsome Lees, was rather seriously hurt. It seems that the child was playing in the road, near the Spring Grove Tavern, and suddenly ran from behind a large stone at the junction of Storrs Hall Lane with the turnpike road. At the same moment a gig, proceeding in the direction of Huddersfield, passed. The child ran against the iron step of the vehicle, was knocked down, and the wheel grazed its head and face severely. The child was taken home, and attended by Mr. Lockwood, surgeon.

The child survived, as there are no deaths recorded for that (or similar) surname, but may have died the following year. Edward’s daughters are listed in the 1871 Census as Sarah Elizabeth (aged 8), Annie (aged 5) and Hannah Jane (aged 1). Annie was baptised 20 May 1866 and died towards the end of 1871, aged 6. Edward died in late 1885, aged 45, and was buried at All Hallows, Almondbury, on 5 December.

30 July 1870

Deaths.
On the 29th inst., aged 40, James Denison, Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street. Friends will please accept this intimation.

Probate Register 1870

Effects under £200. 21 October. Letters of Administration (with the will annexed) of the Personal estate and effects of James Denison late of the “Grove” Inn Spring Grove Street Huddersfield in the County of York. Innkeeper deceased who died 29 July 1870 at the “Grove” Inn aforesaid were granted at Wakefield to Sarah Denison of the “Grove” Inn aforesaid, Widow of the Relict of the said Deceased she having been first sworn.

22 March 1873

Marriages.
On the 17th inst., at Leeds Parish Church, Mr. John Hellawell, to Mrs. Sarah Davison, Grove Inn, Huddersfield.

17 October 1873

7 November 1876

The Huddersfield Chronicle reported that John Hellawell of The Grove Inn had been granted a licence for music.

11 June 1877

Local and District News.
Sudden Death in the Spring Grove Street.
On Saturday morning last, Mr. John Hellawell, of the Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street, Huddersfield, was engaged in his usual duties, he complained to his wife of being unwell. She accordingly advised him to retire to his bed and rest for some time, while she sent for a medical gentleman, who was immediately in attendance, but notwithstanding that all that medical skill could devise was done for him, he expired in a few minutes. The cause of death was apoplexy.

16 June 1877

Deaths.
On the 9th inst., aged 40 years, Mr. John Hellawell, Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street. Friends will please accept this intimation.

Probate Register 1877

Effects under £600. 6 July. The Will of John Hellawell late of Huddersfield in the County of York, Innkeeper who died 9 June 1877 at Huddersfield, was proved at Wakefield by Sarah Hellawell of Huddersfield Widow the Relict and George Martin of Manchester Road Huddersfield Grocer the Executors.

7 October 1880

Borough Police Court
A Disorderly Customer.
Henry Sissons, plumber, Spring Grove Street, pleaded guilty to being disorderly and refusing to quit the Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street, and with assaulting Sarah Hellawell, the landlady. It appeared that the defendant went to the house on the 4th instant, with a woman, and had some drink. Shortly after, another woman came in, with whom defendant had some words. Mrs. Hellawell said he must not make a disturbance, and asked him to leave, and he not only refused to do so but struck her in the mouth and caused it to bleed. She had to call in Police Constables Townend and Cundle to turn defendant out. Defendant was fined 5s. and costs for refusing to quit, and 20s. and costs for the assault, which the Bench said was a very cowardly one.

2 March 1886

Borough Police Court
A Painful Case.
Edgar Kaye, tailor, Spring Grove Street, was charged on remand with stealing a quantity of cloth, the property of Samuel Taylor, of Buxton Road ; and his mother, Annie Elizabeth Kaye, was charged with receiving the cloth well knowing it to have been stolen. Mr. W. Armitage appeared for the defence. The case was partly gone into on Friday, and additional evidence was now called. From what was stated by the witnesses, it appeared that the prisoner Edgar had for some time been in the employment of the prosecutor, his duty being to give out work and to receive it from the different workpeople when completed. A quantity of cloth, to the value of £4, which was produced, was the property of the prosecutor. The prisoner Edgar disposed of two pieces of cloth to Mrs. Lucas, telling her he was selling them for his master. He also attempted to dispose of another piece by means of a lad named Fred Lucas, but Mr. Field, pawnbroker, to whom the cloth was offered, detained it, and handed it over to the police. When charged with the offence by Police Constable Tunnacliffe at the police office, the prisoner Edgar admitted the charge. On Wednesday morning last Mrs. Kaye went to Mr. Field’s shop, and saw Fred Brook, assistant, with reference to the cloth which had been detained, and said, “The cloth is all right. We gave him permission to sell it. His father bought it from his uncle John at Birkby.” On the 10th ult., when James Mitchell, greengrocer, Summer Street, Lockwood, was going round with his vegetables, Mrs. Kaye called him in, and showed him a piece of cloth, telling him that her husband was a traveller, and had brought that cloth for her to sell. She wanted 11s. for it, and agreed to take it half in money and half in vegetables. On those conditions be bought it, and subsequently pawned it with Mr. Briggs, of Folly Hall. Samuel Whiteley, bookkeeper to the prosecutor, identified the cloth produced as Mr. Taylor’s by the private mark it bore. Sarah Hellawell, widow, who keeps the Grove Inn, Spring Grove Street, bought some cloth from Mrs. Kaye on January 20th for 10s. She told her that her husband had got it for her son, but it was too dark a pattern for him, and therefore it was quite a bargain. Mr. Armitage felt a great difficulty as to the course he should pursue, for the evidence was unanswerable. Mr. Kaye was a man of the highest respectability, and to him the matter came like a thunder-clap. After the evidence he advised his clients to plead guilty, and throw themselves on the mercy of the court. In answer to the formal charge both pleaded guilty. The Magistrates retired for a short time, and upon their return the Mayor said that both be and his brother Justices had every sympathy with Mr. Kaye, but they were there to administer justice. There was no other way of dealing with the matter than by sending the lad to Wakefield for two months and the mother for one month. The Chief Constable said he was only doing justice to Mr. Kaye to say that during all his enquiries be had not heard anything which would lead him to believe that the father had any knowledge of the matter, and he was quite satisfied that Mr. Kaye did not know anything of what was going on, and that his character was as irreproachable in this matter as it had been in all other matters. With respect to Mr. Field he felt that it was his duty to call the attention of the Bench to the prompt way in which be acted in the matter when the cloth was offered to him in pawn by someone who he thought was not likely to have right dealings with it. If all other people would act in a similar way they would have fewer of such miserable scenes as they had in the court that morning, and a far less number of thieves.

Some Random Photos

150 Years Ago: Huddersfield Chronicle (03/Jun/1865)

A selection of articles and news from the Huddersfield Chronicle from 150 years ago today.

Adverts

Wit and Humour

A gentleman a few days ago said to a young lady who had just returned from the sea-side, “I’m delighted to see you’re back — or rather, your face — again.”

To Be Let

WESTFIELD TERRANCE. MRS. FARRAND, having been induced to take a good House at the above address, would be glad to LET SITTING and BEDROOMS to one or two Gentlemen.

Fashions

MISSES SHAW, Milliners, Dress and Mantle Makers, are NOW SHOWING some of the Choicest NOVELTIES, suitable for the present season. An Inspection is respectfully solicited. 15, Ramsden Street.

Turnpike Roads

TOLLS TO BE LET.
LOCKWOOD AND MELTHAM TURNPIKE ROAD.

Notice is hereby given, that the TOLLS arising at the several Tollgates, Bars, and Chains upon the Turnpike Road from Lockwood to Meltham, and a Branch of Road to Meltham Mills, all in the parish of Almondbury, in the West Riding of the County of York, called by the several names of the Dungeon Gate, Netherton Gate, and Chain and Harewood Bridge Gate and Chain, WILL BE LET, either BY AUCTION OR TICKET, to the best bidder, for the term of one or more year or years, as may be agreed on at the time of letting (and subject to such conditions as will be then and there produced), at the house of Mr. Samuel Bradley, the Imperial Hotel, in Huddersfield, on Thursday, the 8th day of June next, between the hours of Three and Five o’clock in the afternoon, in the manner directed by the General Turnpike Act, or Acts of Parliament, which Tolls are now in the hands of the Trustees of the said Road, and produced in the year last past the sum of £1,043 9s. 1d., and will be put up at that sum.

Whoever happens to be the highest bidder must at the same time pay one month’s rent in advance (if required) of the rent at which such Tolls may be let, and give security with sufficient sureties, to the satisfaction of the Trustees of the said Turnpike Road, for the payment of the remainder of the money monthly, or in such other proportions as shall be directed by the said Trustees.

A deposit of £30 will be required from each person intending to become a bidder, previously to any bidding by such person being accepted.

By Order,
EDGAR FENTON, Clerk to the Trustees of the said Turnpike Road.
Huddersfield, 3rd May, 1865.

Public Notices

GRAND CRICKET MATCH OF THE SEASON.
MANCHESTER v. LOCKWOOD

THE above Grand MATCH will be played on the Lockwood Ground on Whit Monday, June 5th. Wickets pitched at Eleven a.m. Admission 6d. No dogs admitted.

Magistrates in Petty Sessions

DAMAGE BY HENS. Daniel Fisher, of Kirkheaton, was charged with doing damage to a field of grass the property of Ephraim Sykes, of the same place. The damage was laid at 6s. Mr. Dransfield defended. The defendant keeps a number of hens, which continually trespass in complainant’s field, and have scratched up his hay grass. He cautioned defendant six weeks since to keep them out, but without effect. The complainant did not press for a penalty, only this his property should not be destroyed. At the recommendation of the Bench he withdrew summons on the expenses being paid.

District Intelligence

CLAYTON WEST — Dastardly Outrage.

During Friday and Saturday nights last, some rascal entered the small plantation belonging to John Kaye, Esq., of Clayton, known as “Plumpton Park,” and cut down and destroyed a number of young valuable trees. A reward of £20 has been offered by Mr. Kaye for the discovery of the perpetrators of the outrage.

MELTHAM — Freak of Nature.

A singluar freak of nature has occurred at Thickhollins, the particulars being as follows. Mr. Benjamin Wilson, spindle maker, of Thickhollins, sat an ordinary English duck on the usual number of eggs to form a brood. On Thursday evening week the duck hatched her progeny, when among the brood was one most extraordinary formed, it having three legs and four feet. The usual two legs — one on each side — are properly formed, but a third one is attached to the body behind, and is perfect down to the centre joint, from which place a fourth foot branches out, so that the little waddler has four perfectly formed feet — the two hind ones being webbed together — and three legs.

NETHERTON — A Long-Needed Improvement.

Netherton for many years past has been much behind many villages in public improvements, but the formation of the railway and other causes appear to have given a good impetus to it, and, of late, considerable improvements have been made. Among the greatest of these is the laying down at present of a substantial and much-needed flagged causeway, together with the erection of a handsome pillar lamp, at the cross, which, when completed, will be an ornament to the village.

LINDLEY — A Centenarian.

On Monday last, a hearty old lady of Lindley, named Sarah Firth, widow of the late Thomas Firth, of that place, accomplished her 100th birthday. The old lady continues in the enjoyment of all her faculties, with the exception of hearing, in which at times she had found herself rather deficient of late years. She walks nimbly about, and goes about her usual household work with alacrity. Her eldest child — a daughter — is still living, and is 79 years of age. This centenarian has forty grandchildren now living, several of whom having emigrated to Australia, no information can be obtained as to the total number of great grandchildren, but there are between forty and fifty of them living in England at the present time. Her eldest grandchild is upwards of fifty years old.¹

Does anyone know if the “handsome pillar lamp” in Netherton is the one stood on Moor Lane? If so, it’s celebrating its 150th birthday this month!

“Lockwood Viaduct” by Brian Fawcett

A painting of Lockwood Viaduct by artist Brian Fawcett, circa 1900.

Out of frame to the lower left is Meltham Junction, where the Meltham Branch Line separated from the Penistone Line. The train in the foreground appears to be making its way towards Meltham.

Presumably Fawcett set up his easel on Hanson Lane, as I wasn’t standing too far away from where he painted it when I took this photo 115 years later:

Old Postcards of Beaumont Park

A selection of old postcards (and the odd photograph) of Beaumont Park…

The Castle Refreshment Rooms

The Lower Entrance

Paths

Upper Section

Lockwood Viaduct

This next one is a little misleading, as it was taken from the other side of the valley, and not “from Beaumont Park”!

The First Post Boxes in Huddersfield

According to Wikipedia, the first public post box in the United Kingdom was installed at Botchergate, Carlisle, in 1853.

The following article, published in the Leeds Mercury (24/Nov/1855), shows that Huddersfield wasn’t too far behind:

Street Letter Boxes
The Postmaster of Huddersfield has ordered four pillar letter-boxes to be placed in the streets for the accommodation of the inhabitants. The first is situated in Bradford Road, where Fitzwilliam Street crossed it ; the second in Halifax Road, at the top of Fitzwilliam Street ; the third on Chapel Hill ; the fourth on Seed Hill. The letters in them will be taken to the Post Office at 6:45 am, at 7 p.m., and 10:45 p.m., except on Sundays, when they will not be visited.

The approximate locations of the four boxes are shown in red on this 1908 map of Huddersfield, with the believed location of the Post Office in 1855 shown in blue. By 1874, the Post Office had moved to the market side of Northumberland Street (shown in green) and the building still stands. In 1914, the current Post Office was built on the opposite side of Northumberland Street to the old one.

In fact, the Mercury was reporting old news, as the post boxes were actually erected the day before, on Friday 23 November. The Huddersfield Chronicle (24/Nov/1855) gave the following details:

They are cast iron pillars, of an octagonal form ; and will prove a great advantage to the inhabitants of those localities [where the pillars stood] by saving them the necessity of coming into town to post letters. For the information of those depositing letters in the boxes, we may state the boxes will be opened at a quarter to eleven a.m., and again at seven p.m., for the purpose of transmitting the letters by the mails. It is to be hoped that not only the police, but the public, will take an interest in guarding these boxes from any abuse to which inconsiderate parties might attempt to subject them.

It’s possible they looked this surviving octagonal box, situated in the village of Holwell, Dorset (photograph by Barry W.):

A few months earlier, the Huddersfield Chronicle (18/Aug/1855) reported that on 13 August an important alteration to the postal system in Huddersfield had been introduced — “The principal is to give every house, as far as practicable, a free delivery of letters.” The article also mentioned the plan to install the four post boxes and predicted that this, together with the free delivery of letters, “cannot fail to give satisfaction both to the town and the neighbourhood.”

Speaking of old post boxes, here’s one from the reign of Queen Victoria in the little hamlet of Helme, near Meltham, which is still in use:

If anyone knows of other old and/or interesting post boxes in the Huddersfield area, please leave a comment!

William Moore (1797-?)

The Postmaster of Huddersfield, William Moore, was born in Pontefract, West Yorkshire, in 1797.

Moore had taken up his position by the time the Civil, Ecclesiastical, Literary, Commercial, and Miscellaneous History of Leeds, Halifax, Huddersfield, Bradford, Wakefield, Dewsbury, Otley and the Manufacturing District of Yorkshire: Volume 2 was published in 1834:

The Post-Office at Huddersfield is in New Street, Mr. William Moore is the post-master. Letters from London, Pontefract, and Wakefield, arrive every evening at six, and are despatched every morning at a quarter before six. Letters from Leeds, Halifax, and Manchester, arrive every morning at a quarter-past seven, and afternoon at a quarter-past two, and they are sent every morning at a quarter-past ten, and in the evening at six o’clock. There are foot-posts to Lockwood, Honley, Thong Bridge, Holmfirth, Paddock, Slaithwaite, Marsden, Longwood, Almondbury, Dogley Lane, Kirkburton, Crossland, Netherton, Eltham¹, Deighton, Sheepridge, Rastrick, Brighouse, Dalton, Kirkheaton, Lepton, Lindley, and Out-Lane, every morning (except Tuesday) at eight.

By the time of the 1851 Census, he was the Postmaster for Huddersfield and was residing on Morpeth Place, Seed Hill, with his wife, Mary, and two of their children. I wonder if it was a coincidence that Moore chose Seed Hill as one of the four locations for the first post boxes?

The 1861 Census shows him still living at Seed Hill, with his son William residing next door with his family.

The following are a summary of newspaper articles relating to William Moore, all from the Huddersfield Chronicle

12/Jul/1851 — Joseph Gaunt, landlord of the Queen Hotel, Market Street, was fined for assaulting William Moore.
18/Dec/1852 — Mr. Moore’s son, William, married Harriet Frances Akers, at the Parish Church in Halifax on 16 December.
22/Jan/1853 — To celebrate the marriage of his only daughter to Mr. John Dobson of Kirkburton, Moore threw a party for the Post Office staff at the Ship Inn. The landlady, Mrs. Richardson, provided “an excellent supper”.
25/Nov/1854 — Moore brought a prosecution against farmer George Heap for attempted to steal £5 worth of manure from near Moore’s property at Seed Hill. Moore represented himself, “in his own peculiar style, exciting occasionally much merriment in court”. The court ruled it had no jurisdiction in this case, as Heap had permission to collect manure from the streets of the town.
03/Feb/1855 — Mr. Moore’s swift actions had saved other packages after someone had illegally posted a package of “wax lucifer matches” which spontaneously combusted in the Post Office.
12/May/1855 — The Postmaster’s annual salary was given as £180, with the total cost of providing the postal service for the Huddersfield division being £1,411.
13/Oct/1855 — The Post Office received a letter addressed to: “thomas grange, cark ey etin spank, ncar, huddersfreed, englind speed.” It was reported that this had been interpreted as “Thomas Grange, Spangled Bull, Kirkheaton, near Huddersfield, England. Speed.”
13/Sep/1856 — A couple of weeks previously, Mr. Moore’s beloved dog, “Curry”, had gone missing. Moore affixed a sign to the front of the Post Office reading, “My favourite dog, ‘Curry’, is lost, nay, stolen — for if the wicked holder will only set him at liberty. I warrant that the beautiful, sleek, chestnut animal will bound his joyous way to Seed Hill. Faithful creature as he is — worth a thousand two-legged animals such as the thief who stole him — if any kindly being will give the hint where he is located, he will receive a full reward.” The Chronicle took great delight in revealing that the dog had been located locked in Lockwood’s Yard on New Street and that it had been the “two-legged” Mr. Moore himself who had accidentally locked Curry there “in a moment of forgetfulness”!
12/Jun/1858 — George Whitehead, a printer who occupied a part of the building above the Post Office on New Street, was charged with assaulting Mr. Moore on 3 June. Whitehead would occasionally work throughout the night and insisted on having the front door to the building left unlocked. Moore had repeatedly remonstrated with Whitehead over this, as it left the Post Office (and the other businesses in the building) vulnerable to robbery. On the night of the incident, Moore insisted that the door must be locked overnight and Whitehead had “both struck and kicked” the Postmaster and then threatened to assault Frederick John North, a post office clerk. In court, Moore was asked if Whitehead struck him more than once, to which he replied, “Aye, hundreds of times. It would be incident or I would bare my body ; you would then see I am full of wounds from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.” Whitehead was found guilty of assault and fined £2 19s.
25/Feb/1860 — Mr. Moore’s speech at the “8th annual soiree of the Milnsbridge Mechanics’ Institute” was reported.
02/Mar/1872 — A discussion around the potential sites for the new Post Office (which was subsequently built on Northumberland Street) mentioned that the post service in Huddersfield began around 1850 (in reality, it had begun before 1831, when he was suspected of intercepting mail) and that Mr. Moore and his son (also named William) were now running a stock and share brokering business.
31/Jan/1874 — At the annual meeting of the Huddersfield Chamber of Commerce it was reported that the council were deeply unhappy with the choice of Northumberland Street as the location for the new Post Office.
15/Jan/1876 — A reunion took place to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Ramsden Street Independent Chapel and Schools, with around 1,100 former scholars present. Amongst those sending their apologies for not being able to attend were Mr. Moore, “the late postmaster for Huddersfield.”
19/May/1886 — Mr. Frederick North, who worked under Mr. Moore in the early days of the post service in Huddersfield, had been promoted to role of Postmaster of Grantham.

As mentioned above, after stepping down as the Postmaster in the late 1850s, William Moore set himself up as a broker on New Street with his son and their adverts regularly appeared in the Chronicle:²

Locations

Post Office (187?–1914):

Post Office (1914–present):

Folly Dolly Falls, Meltham

The curiously named Folly Dolly Falls is a little hidden gem of a waterfall to the east of Meltham, just off the Meltham Greenway section of the old Meltham Branch Line.

Essentially a fault line where sandstone meets softer shale, a small stream (which used to be called Gylloproyd Dyke) cascades over the fault. As far as I’m aware, the stream rises from a spring not far above the falls, then flows down through a culvert under the old railway line and then eventually joins Hall Dyke near Bent Ley Mills. The stream also forms part of the old boundary line between Meltham and South Crosland.

In recent years, a viewing platform has been built, giving an excellent view of the falls and the stream above. It’s worth noting that the falls are on private property, so be respectful if you visit!

It was somewhere around here on a rainy afternoon in April 1864 that the first sod of earth was cut for the railway line by Charles Brook. The journalist who covered the event had obviously never hear of “Gylloproyds” before, and wrote it down phonetically as “Gill-up Rudes” in the article.

Surprisingly, the falls aren’t signposted but you’ll likely hear the water easily enough as you approach them along Meltham Greenway. Look for a path dropping down off the Greenway, with a circular metal gate for accessing a private field. Don’t go into that field, but instead follow the path down to the right, before the gate. You can either continue down the steps to reach the stream, and then walk up to the falls, or take the higher path to reach the viewing platform.

The flow over the falls is highly dependant on recent rainfall, so it becomes little more than a trickle in dry periods. However, this means that the falls can freeze up during particularly cold spells, making for a dramatic flow of solid ice.

As for the meaning behind the name of the falls, if you look elsewhere online, you’ll likely find a half-story about a woman named Dolly building a cottage somewhere above the falls — quite why that should be dubbed a “folly” isn’t explained. In the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Society’s 1987 booklet about the Meltham Branch Line, there’s even a claim it “took its name from the suicide of Dorothy Seymour who killed herself jumping over the forty-two-foot high waterfall after being jilted by her lover”(!)¹

A much more likely source for the name is given in Richard Orton’s The Story of Meltham (published 1977):

This name first appears in the Baptism Register for 1819. The entry states:- “Alice, daughter of Samuel and Sarah Wood, clothier of Dollyfolly, baptised.” The two questions arise in connection with this — who was Dolly and what was his folly? Perhaps Dolly was the nickname either of Samuel Wood or of some other clothier who lived in the house before him. The nature of his folly is in dispute. A recent correspondence in the “Huddersfield Examiner” suggested that Dolly committed a folly in building a house in such an out of the way spot. This correspondence was prompted by a photograph printed a few nights previously of Folly Dolly Falls in spate. Anyone familiar with Folly Dolly Falls will know that it is in spate only after heavy rain when there is plenty of “top water”. Most of the time there is only a trickle coming down the Falls. I would suggest that the folly was connected with this fact. It was not at that time a folly to build cottages in out of the way spots. There were many cottages built in spots much more out of the way. We can still see the ruins of them dotted about on the edges of the moors. Wherever there was water a weaver’s cottage would be built. In any case this particular spot is less out of the way than most. Two paths cross there, one from Meltham to High Brow past the brickworks, and the other from Helme to Bent Ley. Before the turnpike road was built up the valley these paths would have been much used. Dolly Folly would be quite a busy cross roads. We must seek some other reason for the folly. Clothiers at that time were thinking in terms of mechanisation. It had been discovered that looms could be driven by water power, more cloth produced and more prosperity attained. One can imagine Dolly saying to his wife, “Everybody’s doing it. We must have a water wheel.” So he dug a dam, and a channel from the dam to the stream, constructed a wheel, connected his loom to it and sat down waiting for the wheel to turn. Nothing happened! There was indeed plenty of water after heavy rain, but very little of it got into his dam. The majority went straight past and over the Falls. It is possible that the dam never filled up at all. Dolly certainly committed a folly in imagining that that stream could ever provide enough power to drive machinery.
I owe this suggestion to the late Mr. Matthew Kaye who himself heard it from Mr. Francis Creaser. Francis Creaser was born in the 1860’s at a time when there would still be people living who could remember Dolly and his Folly. There is no doubt that somebody dug a dam and a channel. They are still there to be seen (silted up now of course). Then apparently he found out too late that he had wasted his time and energy. Would not this make him a laughing-stock of the neighbourhood? Would not his Folly be talked about in the taverns? One needs something like this to account for the sudden appearance of a new place-name, and this seems to the writer the most likely explanation. The evidence is quite strong, a trustworthy tradition traceable through known individuals of proved reliability, going back to within living memory of the event itself and concrete evidence in the form of a mill dam in a place where there is not enough water to fill one.
We owe the preservation of this story to an event which took place in 1940. Matthew Kaye was called to put out a grass fire at High Brow. They took their hoses but found there was not enough water power to operate them, and so had to fight the fire by hand, a job which took all night. Next day, working at Royd Edge Dye Works on some sewers in the presence of Francis Creaser, whom he had called in to advise (being the man who had put the sewers in in 1885), he remarked on his night’s work, and Mr. Creaser replied, “You made the same mistake as old Dolly!” and of course explained his remark.

The 1841 Census lists a 70-year-old widow Sarah Wood living in Meltham, apparently with her married daughter, Alice (25) and husband Henry Chapman (30).

Photographs

Location

St. Paul, Armitage Bridge

Nestled in a curve of the River Holme, St. Paul’s is the local church for the village of Armitage Bridge and is a grade II listed building.

Consecrated in 1848, the bulk of the £6,350 cost was provided by Brooke family who established the mill which still bears their name and dominates the village. The mill is now home to North Light Gallery and to a variety of businesses, including the North Lights Film Studio — chances are you’ll have watched at least one of their productions.

The first recorded baptism at the church was Sarah Wood (born 23/Sep/1847), daughter of gardener Thomas Wood and his wife Catherine, who was baptised on 7 May 1848. The baptism was performed by the Reverend Henry Windsor. On the same day, Rev. Windsor also performed the first burial service — 5-year-old Hannah Dawson Bramwell, daughter of tailor William Dawson Bramwell and his wife Sarah.

The first marriage occurred on 13 November 1848 and was between Mary Ann Brook (daughter of warper George) and weaver John Heppenstall (son of weaver William).

Sadly the church was badly damaged by an arsonist in February 1987 but thankfully was rebuilt due to the determination of the congregation. The church rededicated in 1990 and later underwent further restoration.

Graveyard

I’ve mentioned the death of 11-year-old James Beaver in a previous blog post, but I’ve now had chance to visit his grave.

Just to recap, James was employed during the construction of the Meltham Branch Line and was involved in an accident at the southern end of the Butternab Tunnel on Thursday 16 January 1868. Apparently he tampered with one of the waggons loaded with debris and it began to move. James fell under it and one of the wheels rolled over his arm, crushing it.

The Chronicle initially reported on the incident saying that although the boy’s arm had been amputated at the shoulder, he was recovering well at Huddersfield Infirmary.¹ Sadly, however, he died on Sunday 26 January.

His family couldn’t afford a headstone, so he was buried in an unmarked plot in the graveyard on 30 January 1868.²

I’m extremely grateful to the Reverend Stephen Gott and to church administrator Bruce Greenwood for their assistance in pinpointing where James was laid to rest. His plot is roughly in the middle of this photograph and situated near the south western corner of the graveyard:

The war memorial for Armitage Bridge is situated close to the church and lists the following names:

1914-1918 — W. Armitage, H. Armitage, E. Avery, J.W. Adamson, N. Bradley, H. Booth, F. Bray, L. Bray, H. Brown, A. Berry, H. Beaumont, E. Beaumont, H. Bradshaw, F.T. Crowe, W.J. Crossley, F. Cartwright, D. Cartwright, A. Copley, A. Crosland, E. Dakin, A. Dodson, N. France, F. France, W. Haigh, J.S. Haigh, P. Hallas, H. Heap, C. Hamer, H. Hargreaves, C. Jenkinson, J.H. Jagger, E.R. Knapton, J. Kerfoot, J.W. Kaye, J. Kirk, C.L. Langrick, A. Lindley, H. Lister, H. Maud, W. Mallinson, R. Morrison, H. Oldham, G.W. Pounder, H. Pollard, E. Robinson, J. Stocks, W. Shells, C.T. Sykes, R. Sykes, L. Shaw, E. Shaw, W. Shaw, F. Shaw, W. Sunderland, A. Stinton, J. Sallis, H. Sanderson, L. Shore, A. Stanley, A.C. Tong, J.S. Taylor, N. Taylor, P. Thornton, L. Walker, S. Wilkinson, L. Wilcock, J. Wimpenny, S. Wimpenny, G. Walshaw, and N. Waring.

1939-1945 — R. Dyson, H. Fox, J. Hewitt, A. Lockwood, J. Lockwood, J. Sykes, E. Taylor, and F.R.Woodcock.

If you are interested in researching those who lost their lives in the First World War, Margaret Stansfield spent 30 years meticulously researching this and her work was recently published posthumously: Huddersfield’s Roll of Honour: 1914-1922 (2014).

Sgt. John Sykes was killed when the Wellington bomber (serial W5667) he was in crashed at Grant’s Farm, Old Leake Commonside, Lincolnshire, during a training flight.

Location

Miss Challand, the Local Clairvoyant

The name “Miss Challand” cropped up in the previous blog post about the “Seed Hill Ghost” of March 1855. To summarise that particular event, ghostly knocking sounds and ringing bells were heard in the house of dyer Samuel Routledge and it was reported that Miss Challand had been brought in twice in an attempt to shed light on what was happening, but without any success.

It eventually transpired that a young Irish servant girl in the employ of Routledge was behind it all, so Miss Challand’s inability to contact the spirit responsible for the noises is entirely understandable. Of interest, one of the articles about the “Seed Hill Ghost” includes a brief description of Challand’s second visit to the house, which followed a few hours after the bedclothes and pillows had been inexplicably ripped from a bed and left strewn upon the landing and staircase:

During the evening a clairvoyante was again brought into the house, thrown into the mesmeric state, and performed some strange antics over and under the bed and among the bed clothes, put to no purpose.

The description paints a comical scene and you’d be forgiven for wondering what Miss Challand’s credentials actually were, but another article describing her first visit to the house provides hints:

The services of Miss Challand, who has “got her name up” as a faithful clairvoyante (since the discovery of the body of the missing female from Marsden), were put into requisition ; but, after being placed in the required state, nothing could be elicited from her, inasmuch as, not having heard the ghost perform his operations, she could discover nothing to detect his whereabout, or the means he employed to effect such startling sounds.

Intrigued by the reference to the “missing female from Marsden”, I started hunting through the newspaper archives.

The Disappearance of Sarah Ann Lumb

Although her father is named as farmer “John Lumb” in one of the articles about her disappearance, it seems much more likely that he was the John Lumb, married to Mary (née Whitehead?), who is listed as the landlord of the Old Ram Inn on Town Street in Marsden in the 1851 Census — 11-year-old “S. Ann Lumb” was listed as their oldest daughter on the census.

On the evening of Thursday 14 December 1854, Sarah Ann was walking home in heavy rain with a friend, Hannah Haigh.¹ After saying goodbye to her friend, she headed towards the bridge in the village to cross over the river. In the darkness and perhaps blinded by the driving rain, she seemingly misjudged where she was — instead of stepping onto the bridge, she accidentally fell into the river.

The rains had swollen the river, which was running faster and deeper than usual, and Sarah Ann was rapidly carried downstream. Her screams altered those living nearby and the alarm was quickly raised that someone was in the water but, despite a frantic search, they could find no-one in the darkness.

The search continued the following day and, by now, it was known that Sarah Ann was missing and likely the person heard screaming. Within a week, her family were offering a £5 reward “to any one who shall find the body”. The Huddersfield Chronicle (23/Dec/1854) reported that several readers had written in to urge the authorities to fence off the gap in the wall near the bridge, where it was believed Sarah Ann had tumbled into the river.

In the days after her disappearance, items of clothing were found in the river. Her skirt was found the day after she disappeared, about a quarter of mile downstream from Marsden. Her shawl was found a few days later, followed by her flannel petticoat on Christmas Eve and her dress skirt on 28 December.²

Her family grew increasingly desperate and reportedly consulted a “wise man” in Holmfirth, but he could give them no information. It seems someone then put them in contact with a “mesmerist”³ by the name of Captain Hudson who was staying locally. Sarah Ann’s uncle, builder Samuel Whitehead, and local mill-owner Joshua Farrar approached Hudson and asked if he knew of anyone who could help. He gave them the name and address of a dressmaker named Challand who lived in Moldgreen, Huddersfield, who he claimed had the gift of clairvoyance.

Whitehead and Farrar then went to Miss Challand and asked her to accompany them back to Hudson’s residence. Perhaps at the insistence of the Captain, they didn’t explain anything to her. Hudson then placed Challand into a hypnotic trance and he asked her if she knew why the two men had come to her. She replied, “Yes, about the young woman who was drowned at Marsden.”

Whitehead had brought with him the clothes that had been found in the river and Challand said that Sarah Ann had had the shawl wrapped tight over her head to help fend off the rain, which, if true, perhaps helps explain why the girl misjudged the bridge.

Hudson now asked her to see where Sarah Ann Lumb’s body was now. Challand appeared to fall asleep for around five minutes before she began describing the progress the girl’s body had taken down the river. She ended by stating that Sarah Ann’s body was within 100 yards of the second bridge in Mirfield and that the body was covered in mud, apart from the feet.

Whitehead then travelled to Mirfield on 4 January with some workmen and began searching the river around Legard Bridge, but could find no sign of the body. A local then told them that, if they wanted the “second bridge in Mirfield”, they were at the wrong location — Shepley Bridge was where they should be looking. Whitehead moved his workmen there, where they soon found Sarah Ann’s body 20 yards from the bridge. Just as Challand had told him, the girl’s body was buried but her feet were exposed.

According the subsequent inquest, which was held at the Ship Inn, Mirfield, on 5 January, a post mortem proved death by drowning. It was recorded that Sarah Ann’s body had been carried downstream a distance of 14 miles and that Mary Ann Challand claimed to have known nothing of the deceased prior to being hypnotised by Captain Hudson. The jury returned an open verdict.

The Huddersfield Chronicle reported the events in an article titled “Extraordinary Mode of Finding a Missing Human Body“, which was republished verbatim in a few other regional newspapers.

On the evenings of 12 and 13 January, Captain Hudson gave a “mesmeric demonstration” to a packed house at the Old Ram Inn, Marsden, hypnotising several people. However, it seems most people were there to see his companion, the clairvoyant Mary Ann — by now, most of the locals had heard that she had helped find Sarah Ann’s body. The Chronicle (20/Jan/1855) reported that Mary Ann failed to do anything at either lecture, so “the audience had no proofs given of her powers as a clairvoyante, so that unbelievers remained unbelievers still.”

At this point in the story, it’s tempting to assume that fame and fortune awaited Mary Ann, the Huddersfield clairvoyant who found the drowned girl. However, events in her own life were about to take a sad and tragic turn.

Mary Ann Challand

Mary Ann Challand was born in August 1838, the daughter of corn miller Thomas Challand and his wife, Mary (née Broadly).⁴

By the time of the 1851 Census, 12-year-old Mary Ann was living on Smythey Lane, off Springfield Terrace, Huddersfield, with her parents and her older brother brother, George. Not long after, they appear to have moved to Moldgreen, Huddersfield.

In June 1854, Mary Ann’s mother brought a case against a man named Charles Oldfield whose dog she claimed had attacked her whilst she was fetching in washing from her clothes line. However, discrepancies in her statements led to the case being dismissed.

1855 would be a tumultuous year for Mary Ann Challand. Following her work in locating the body of Sarah Ann Lumb in early January and then her attempts to contact the “Seed Hill Ghost”, her father Thomas died a few months later and was buried on 30 May. Her mother Mary appears to have sunk into a depression following the death of her husband⁵ and on the morning of Wednesday 18 July she told a neighbour that “she thought she would not see the day out”.

At noon that day, she visited Mary Ann at her place of work and then at around 1:30pm, she met her son, George. We can only speculate what her final words were to her children, but within a couple of hours Mary Challand had taken her own life.

A rent collector named Benjamin France called at Challand’s house around 4pm that afternoon and assumed the property empty when he received no reply to his shout of “holloa”. Letting himself in, he was horrified to see Mary hanging from the stairwell banister. Rather than cut her down, he altered some neighbours and went off to find a policeman.

An inquest was held the following evening at the Kaye’s Arms in Moldgreen with George Dyson presiding. Dyson was critical of Mr. France for not immediately cutting Mrs. Challand down in case she had only just hung herself. The jury returned a verdict of “suicide whilst temporarily insane”.

If Mary Ann continued to be a clairvoyant after the death of her parents, it was not reported in any of the newspapers that I have access to.

The 1861 Census has 22-year-old unmarried Mary Ann living as a lodger at the house of police constable George Ramsden, 33 Templar Street, Leeds. Her occupation is given as “milliner”, which ties with the contemporary newspaper reports that she was a dressmaker.

She married engineer Benjamin Haigh on 7 March 1863 at St John the Baptist in Halifax. Oddly, her father is not marked as being deceased.

The 1871 Census has them living in Manchester, with two young daughters: Clara and Ellen. Ten years later, they were living at 7 Portland Street, Litchurch, Derbyshire, with a third daughter, Edith. All three daughters appear to have been given the middle name “Ann” after their mother. By 1901, 62-year-old Mary Ann was a widow and was living with her married daughter, Ellen Bowes, in north Manchester.

Her brother, George Thomas Challand, married Ellen Sykes on 14 January 1856 at All Hallows, Almondbury, and he worked as a farmer in Dalton, Huddersfield. He died on 26 April 1883 and was buried at All Hallows on 30 April.

Mary Ann died in 1903, aged 67, and was buried St Bartholomew’s in Whitworth, Lancashire.

Whether you believe in her gift or not, it certainly seems she helped bring closure to a grieving family who had lost their teenage daughter in tragic circumstances. For that alone, Mary Ann Challand, the clairvoyant of Huddersfield, deserves to be remembered.

As for Captain Hudson, who seems to have been Mary Ann’s mentor, he crops up in many other interesting articles and deserves a blog post of his own!

The Ghost of Seed Hill

As a location in Huddersfield, Seed Hill no longer really exists, but it was the area to the east of the modern-day Shorehead Roundabout and is more-or-less where Sainsbury’s supermarket and car park is now located. This 1894 map of the area shows Seed Hill Road:

In the mid-1800s, Samuel Routledge (born 1803 in Brampton, Cumberland) ran a profitable dye business at Seed Hill but, in 1852, an attempt to expand into trading with Australia, saw him overstretch himself. Needing to raise further capital of £5,000, his bank recommended that he “apply to his friends for a guarantee” and his property was put up security. By June 1853, he was in debt to his bank to the tune of over £4,500 with further debts of £5,764. The following year, Routledge declared bankruptcy. When it became obvious that the value of Routledge’s estate would not cover his debts, a court case in July 1855 ensued as to whether those who guaranteed the £5,000 loan were liable or not for the other outstanding debts.

A few months before that case was heard, Routledge’s creditors had moved to begin selling off his estate and, in mid-March 1855, advertisements began to appear in local newspapers:

The dwelling house mentioned in the advert was soon to become one of the most notorious residences in Huddersfield. The events surrounding the “Seed Hill Ghost” were reported widely both locally and nationally, and some of the newspaper articles are occasionally contradictory, so the following is an attempt to pull together the facts of the story as best we can, 160 years after they occurred…

On the evening of Friday 16 March 1855 at around 7:45pm, a vigorous knocking sound echoed through Samuel Routledge’s house. Routledge was away at the time, so his maid rushed to answer the door to find out what all the urgency was. However, when she opened the door, there was no-one there. No sooner had she closed the front door than loud banging sounded from elsewhere in the house. She thought it must be coming from the kitchen and went to investigate but found the room was empty.

The maid, perhaps suspecting a practical joke or perhaps getting fearful, left the house and roused a night watchman from a nearby yard. He accompanied her back to the house and stood guard in the passageway. Before long, the loud knocking sound echoed once again through the house. Perturbed, he announced that he would he was unprepared to remain on guard there overnight, unless there was someone else to watch over him!

Fortunately for the maid, the ghost of Seed Hill apparently slept at night and soon the rappings diminished. In their first article about the strange events, the Huddersfield Chronicle (24/Mar/1855) quoted a policeman as saying, “it’s a woise boggert, for he ligs to sleep at’neets”. Before J.K. Rowling appropriated the word for her Harry Potter novels, a “boggart” was a catch-all term applied to a mischievous and/or malevolent spirit dwelling in a house or location, so we can translate our strongly-accented policeman as saying “it’s a wise spirit, for he lies down to sleep at night”. In past times, boggarts were blamed for everything from the milk turning sour overnight to any sudden aches or pains.

After the respite, this particular boggart awoke and knocking noises once more sounded through the house, sometimes loud enough to be heard in every room. With the master of the house returned, attempts were made to ascertain where the noises were coming from — pipes throughout the house were checked, but to no avail. It seemed no-one could agree on where the source of the rapping actually was.

By now, news of the strange happenings was spreading quickly and locals were keen to experience the events from themselves. According to the Chronicle, small groups were admitted into the house where they waited expectantly for the knocking to begin… sometimes the spirit would oblige, other times not. During the evenings, large groups of people wandered around Routledge’s dye works and the neighbouring area in hope of experiencing something supernatural, but the ghost became shy with only a few sounds being reported on the Wednesday.

Thursday saw a return of the noises and it was reported “sewers have been searched, goits fathomed, pipes cleared, but all has yet failed to discover the cause of the day-rapper”. By now, the Chronicle had a journalist on-site and he reported:

We heard the singular phenomenon three times on Thursday, about noon, with some dozen others, distributed in and about the rooms on the ground floor, but none could agree as to where it came from, only that it was loud and indefinite, and produced a pitiful change in the air of some of the listeners. [On Friday] the rappings were as loud and frequent as ever, and though many gentlemen of our acquaintance, who are not easily “gulled,” visited the spot […] they assure us that there is an air of strangeness about these loud, frequent, and imperious rappings which their philosophy cannot solve ; and how or by what instrumentality brought about they, in common with Mr. Routledge, are unable to trace. At the same time we would caution the credulous against placing reliance on the thousand silly rumours afloat, as it is possible that more minute examinations of the premises may tend to make clear what is at present, to say the least, a very mysterious exhibition on behalf of something or other which has so far evaded the vigilance of the thousands who have crowed around the premises as Seed Hill during the week.

Although Routledge had been away when the noises first started, gossip began to spread that he was behind it all and that he wished to put off potential buyers of the house at the upcoming auction — “Numerous rumours detrimental to Mr. R. and his family were rife in every quarter, and every one explained the extraordinary circumstance in his own way.”

News of the ghost had by now spread to neighbouring towns and cities, with other regional newspapers carrying the story in their Saturday editions…

Halifax Courier (24/Mar/1855):

The Seed Hill Ghost.
The people of Huddersfield have been amused, surprised, and alarmed, as the case may be, these few days back, by the reported visits of a ghost, which secrets itself somewhere in the premises or mansion of Mr. Samuel Routledge, of Seed Hill. What questionable shape it may yet take, who can tell, but so far it has modestly kept out of sight, no one having seen its saucer eyes, if it have any, nor its horns or anything to make “night hideous,” beyond a noise. It is known, as yet, but as a ghost of percussion.

Leeds Times (24/Mar/1855):

During the whole of the past week the neighbourhood of Seed Hill, and in fact the whole of the “lower region” of the town of Huddersfield, has been in a state of extraordinary excitement owing to most alarming “noises” made in the house of Mr. Samuel Routledge, an extensive dyer, at Seed Hill. Mr. Routledge first called the attention of the police and the public to the matter last Saturday, declaring that the noises resembled the “striking of a door or a table-top with a stick or switcher with all one’s might;” that these noises were very frequent, and had frightened all his servants and even the cat from the house, and that he was thus left in awful solitude. The rumour spread rapidly, and every day since the house has been regularly besieged by crowds of people, all anxious to see and hear for themselves the marvellous doings of the ghost. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, several policemen were stationed inside the house. The ghost, however, was not to be intimidated either by the crowd or the police — “bang, switch, bang, switch, bang, switch,” — continued at intervals to echo through the corridors and rooms of the building. Impudent and cunning ghost! He is quite a ventriloquist; when you are seated in the dining-room, the sound appears to come from the front door ; and when you are at the front door, the sound appears to proceed from the dining room. A policeman was therefore placed at each of these places, determined to catch the ghost. “Bang, switch” echoes once more; each policeman rushes from his post to catch the fugitive ; they meet in the passage, and a terrific collision takes place, each knocking the other down, and in the mêlée the ghost escapes ! These watchings continued until Wednesday evening, when the police, fairly baffled, raised the siege, and left the ghost in undisputed possession of the fortress. The phenomenon remains a mystery, but the premises are advertised for sale by public auction on the 2nd of April, and rumour insinuates that the ghost is merely the result of some hidden galvanic wires, or some subterraneous steam pipes, and the ruse is to frighten purchasers, so that the house may be sold very cheap.

Leeds Intelligencer (24/Mar/1855):

A Ghost Story.
During the early part of the present week a good portion of the Huddersfield public have been running mad in their endeavours to discover the workings of a certain ghost, said to have located himself at the residence of Mr. Sam. Routledge, dyer, Seed Hill. On Sunday and Monday last several hundred people visited the place, and, strange to say, not a few returned deeply impressed with the reality of the story. How to capture the bane intruder has been a point which has drawn largely on the resources of the ingenious, aided by the light of official police experience, but up to the present time he continues his perambulations unchecked and undismayed. We record this much of this idle tale, as illustrating the great amount of superstition still prevalent in the popular mind.

Extra night watchmen were now employed to guard the house — perhaps with the hope of catching a hoaxer — and a joiner was “engaged to thoroughly examine the house to ascertain if any mechanical apparatus had been fixed whereby, with the aid of galvanism or other scientific means, the strange unearthly sounds might be produced”. However, said joiner could find no evidence of trickery.

On Sunday 25 March, the ghost began to extend its repertoire and the servant bells “were continually rung, but no explanation offered itself as to the cause”.

On Monday, the renowned local clairvoyant, Miss Challand, visited the house. Sadly, the ghost decided to cease activity during the visit and, despite going into a trance, Miss Challand could offer up no explanation.

Tuesday and Wednesday saw further knocking and bell ringing. However, the latter was ceased when Routledge unhooked their wires. Perhaps frustrated by this ploy, the ghostly activities now moved to the bedrooms of the house. Late on Thursday afternoon, the bedclothes and pillows were found ripped from the beds and left on the staircase and landing. This, together with the continued knocking, was the final straw for the housekeeper who fled the house, vowing not to return. Apparently that night, the watchman hired to remain in the house overnight was so scared that he “dared not close his eyes” and nod off.

Routledge returned that evening, having been away in Bradford during the day, to learn that his housekeeper had left. By now, the cost of investigating the cause was becoming serious, not to mention the ongoing local gossip, so he re-doubled his efforts to get to the bottom of the mystery. Perhaps he had had time to reflect on the events whilst away in Bradford, but he had apparently grown convinced that someone in the house must be behind it all.

It would seem the clairvoyant had already been asked to return that evening and, having gone into her trance, “performed some strange antics over and under the bed and among the bed clothes, but to no purpose”(!)

Together with some trusted companions, Routledge took up a walking stick and began banging walls and objects to see if he could replicate “the same dolorous sound” as the ghost. After much investigating, one of the group “accidentally struck the end of the barrel of a large washing-machine standing in the back kitchen, and like magic the sounds were at once explained, and on the outer end being examined hundreds of indentations were discovered.” He had indeed been right to suspect an “inside job” — but who?

Quite how many people were residing in the house at that point in time isn’t recorded, but the 1851 Census lists Routledge (a widower), his three young daughters — Catherine (aged 5), Annie (4) and Lucy (1) — along with two servants — cook Margaret Wright (26) and housemaid Eliza Barker (21). By 1854, Routledge had taken in another servant girl (“from motives of charity”), a young Irish “urchin” named Catherine Hayley (her name is variously reported as “Haley”, “Healey” and “Heeley”). One by one, apparently Routledge questioned everyone in the house and all denied having anything to do with the noises. In a dubious instance of stereotyping, a journalist later reported the Irish servant girl as saying “Shure [I know] nothing about it at all at all”!

It seems the following day, Routledge again questioned everyone and, this time, young Catherine Hayley admitted that she had “knocked a little”. That was enough for him, and he took the girl to the local police station where she was interviewed further. Here it emerged that Catherine had taken a dislike to the housekeeper and began making the noises to frighten her, for a “bit of fun”. As events escalated, she’d hoped that the noises would scare the unwanted curious visitors away.

The Chronicle reported that Catherine had used a stick and a small sandstone to bang on the washing tub and on the doors in the passageway — when the latter were examined closely, indentations were found from the banging. As for the bedlinen, she explained that she waiting until no-one was around, then slipped off her clogs, run silently upstairs, and pulled off the sheets and pillows, dragging them behind her and leaving them disarrayed on the landing and stairs. Having crept back downstairs, she slipped on clogs back on and screamed, alerting the watchman sat in the parlour. As she was wearing clogs that would have sounded on the stairs, it seems no-one thought for a minute that she was actually the culprit.

In fact, throughout the events, young Catherine had pretended to be scared by the noises and “no one for a moment thought that she could he capable of playing such extraordinary tricks, so successfully as she had done”.

Unsurprisingly, Routledge booted young Catherine out of his house. In summarising the conclusion of the story, the Chronicle lamented that some of the locals now regarded her as a heroine who had outwitted all those gentlemen who had tried to identify the source of the noises.

Coda

What with the events of March 1855 and the bankruptcy, it is perhaps a surprise to learn Samuel Routledge decided to get married again. On 1 May 1856, he married Margaret Thompson at the Church of St. John, Newcastle-upon-Type. However, the marriage was short lived and he died only a few months later, aged 53. He was buried on 23 August 1856 at St. Paul’s in Huddersfield.¹ He had previously married Elizabeth Mills in Sheffield on 24 February 1844 and she died not long after the birth of last daughter, Lucy, in 1849.

Lucy Routledge was born 1 February 1849 and was baptised on 8 March 1850 at St. Paul’s. Following her father’s death, she attended a boarding school for girls in East Keswick and eventually became a governess. By 1871, she was employed by the Lee family at Wester Hall, Haughton, Northumbia. The 1881 Census found her employed by the Bankes family of Willow Green, Little Leigh, Northwich, Cheshire. A decade later she was a governess for the Weeks family of Bedlington, Morpeth, Northumberland. By the time of the 1901 Census, 51-year-old Lucy was living with her sister Catherine at 34 Little Horton Lane, Bradford, Yorkshire. It seems likely that the sisters lived together for the rest of their lives, and Lucy passed away in 1930 in Bradford, aged 80.

Catherine Routledge was born 22 February 1846 and was baptised 1 May 1846 at St. Paul’s. She married sometime around 1886, although I haven’t been able to find details of the marriage. By 1901, when her sister Lucy was living with her, she was a widow and had reverted to her maiden name. The 1911 Census shows her occupation as “herbalist” at 36 Clive Place, Great Horton, Bradford, and Lucy was still living with her. She died in 1936 in Bradford, aged 90.

Annie Routledge was born 5 March 1847 and baptised 26 May 1847 at St. Paul’s. Following her father’s death, it seems she was made a ward of Huddersfield doctor John Moxon and his wife, Sarah. There are no obvious records for Annie after the 1861 Census, so she likely married.

As for the “Seed Hill Ghost”, Catherine Hayley, she was very likely born around 1842, the daughter of washerwoman Anne Hayley. Anne was born around 1821 and lived in Sligo, Ireland, where she had at least four children with her husband. What led the family to move to Huddersfield around 1850 is uncertain, but by the time of the 1851 Census, Anne’s husband had died, leaving her a widow at age 30 with four children to support. Her oldest daughter, 14-year-old Margaret, is named as a street hawker in the census. By 1861, six years after she had been fired by Samuel Routledge, Catherine was living with her mother on Kirkgate, Huddersfield. Anne eventually died in 1890, aged 67.

In the years after 1855, a number of other cases of young girls faking paranormal activity were recorded elsewhere in Yorkshire and, more often that not, their activities would be compared to those of the “Seed Hill Ghost”.

It should be noted that Catherine apparently found another job straight away at a local public house run by John Tasker. In May 1855, she was called before the magistrates as a witness in a case where the police alleged Tasker’s wife had been caught serving beer after 10pm. Under oath, Catherine swore that the pub had been empty at that time and that Mrs. Tasker had been bringing in glasses of undrunk ale from outside when she was spotted by the police. Given her notoriety, Superintendent Thomas asked Catherine whether or not she was capable of lying. To the amusement of the court, Catherine replied that she could if she had a mind to. The magistrate fined Mr. Tasker 10 shillings plus expenses.

The 1861 Census is the last definite record I could find of her life — she was definitely not the “Catherine Hayley” who died on 26 January 1862 in Huddersfield² but perhaps she was the “Catherine Haley” who was married in Huddersfield in 1865, or perhaps she was “Kate Healey” who married locally in 1880?

Whatever became of Catherine, the fact remains that for nearly two weeks in March 1855, she fooled everyone in Huddersfield and her deeds were reported throughout the country!

01/Aug/1871: Louis Beecher Furniss

03/Jun/1875: Samuel Mellor Johnson

04/Jan/1876: E. Schofield

26/May/1876: George Wood

21/Jun/1876: T. Beaumont

25/Sep/1876: Benjamin Taylor

24/Apr/1877: Elijah Ingram

19/Nov/1877: William Fletcher

05/Dec/1877: Michael Quinn

07/Feb/1878: Collision at Huddersfield

19/Oct/1879: Collapse of Retaining Wall

13/Jan/1880: Derailment

12/Aug/1881: Bradley Jessop

Newspaper Articles

Some Random Photos

Adverts

Wit and Humour

To Be Let

Fashions

Turnpike Roads

Public Notices

Magistrates in Petty Sessions

District Intelligence

CLAYTON WEST — Dastardly Outrage.

MELTHAM — Freak of Nature.

NETHERTON — A Long-Needed Improvement.

LINDLEY — A Centenarian.

The Castle Refreshment Rooms

The Lower Entrance

Paths

Upper Section

Lockwood Viaduct

William Moore (1797-?)

Locations

Photographs

Location

Graveyard

Links

Further Reading

Location

The Disappearance of Sarah Ann Lumb

Mary Ann Challand

Further Reading

Coda

Further Reading