Charles Hawksley and the ownership of the Cock Inn and the Crown Inn

I was researching the Hawksley branch of my mom’s family when I found the following item: an advert in a November 1780 edition of the Norfolk Chronicle, in which:

“18 November 1780. Page 3, column 2

Charles HAWKSLEY, at the Cock Inn, at Attleburgh, begs Leave to return his Thanks to the Public in general, and his Friends in particular, for the many Favours already conferred, at the same time, at the particular request of Mr R. HOBBLEDAY, of the Crown Inn, he returns Thanks of the said Richard HOBBLEDAY, for Favours received, but who, thro’ Deecline [sic] of Business, has thought proper to give up his House and Post-chaise business to the said Charles HAWKSLEY, who will at all Times endeavour to merit the patronage of the Public, and their Encouragement will be gratefully acknowledged by most humble Servants, Charles HAWKSLEY, R. HOBBLEDAY.”

(transcription from microfilm supplied by the British Library Newspaper Library)

I’m not certain yet whether Charles is my ancestor, but it’s entirely possible. The branch of the family I’m researching was in Thetford, and Attleborough (Attleburgh) is fairly close by, so it’s conceivable they might be the same folks. I’ve got to do a bit more checking around in church records. In any case, I was curious and looked up the Crown Inn in Attleborough, which was closed in 1970, but may still be standing. Here’s a photo from 1968, when it was still open:

The Cock Inn seems to still be operating, and can be found here: link. The Cock is also listed at http://www.norfolkpubs.co.uk/norfolka/attleborough/attlco.htm, and Charles is listed as the licensee from 1779 to 1795, after which an Elizabeth Hawkesley is listed until 1805. I haven’t figured out if this is his wife Elizabeth, or a daughter.

The last items dealing with Charles specifically and the Cock Inn are these, found on the page above:

“In February 1779, Mr. Hawkesley was offering the services of his well-bred Bay Horse, called the Fox, at One Guinea a Mare and One Shilling the Man. It was his third Season.

~

1795 – COCK INN, ATTLEBURGH NORFOLK

CHARLES HAWKSLEY- HUMBLY begs leave to inform his Friends and the Public in general, that through the very alarming price of Horsekeeping and every other necessity of life, it is impossible for him to let his Post-chaise at 9d per mile therefore hopes that the small advance which has been made by his neighbours at Norwich, and on most other Roads, in England for some time will justify his taking the same step.”

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The Norfolk Chronicle from 1780 also includes such interesting tidbits as these:

“Last Monday night RUMNEY, the horse-stealer, now in the City Gaol, made another attempt to break prison. He was confined alone in a cell, chained to a post, notwithstanding which he cut off his irons, made a hole through the plank in the cell, and also the wall, and then worked his way under ground fifteen or sixteen feet, next to Messrs CARTER and COPPING’s, grocers, where he intended to have got out. Immediately after he was missed, several labourers were set to work in order to widen the breach he made in the cell, while others kept digging away on Mr CARTER’s premises. After digging and searching for about five hours, he called out, almost suffocated for want of air, when he was taken out and properly secured, being now double ironed and chained.”

It’s quite a shame he hadn’t access to good scuba equipment. He might have made it, or at least been captured with more dignity. (imagines how most people look in scuba gear) Or not.
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“On Saturday Last, Mr James SEAGON, butcher, dropped down dead in the market with a cleaver in his hand, as he was chopping a piece of beef. He was a friendly well behaved man, and much respected.”

I don’t think we use the phrase “dropped down dead” nearly enough these days. The next obituary had also dropped down dead, although the St. Stephen’s parish Clerk, who was next to go, simply “died” in a more dignified and genteel manner.
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And also a longish and fascinatingly descriptive bit about highwaymen (I’m having Adam & the Ants flashbacks: “Staaaaand and deliver (woah woah woah)…. your money or your life!” –
I can’t resist. Here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4B2a6l6wM2k

“On Friday and Saturday evenings last, 10th and 12th, two highwaymen, (one of whom had a pistol) well mounted, infested the turnpike road between Hockering and Easton, in this county, and about six o’clock in the evening of the 11th stopped and robbed several persons, particularly Mr SMITH, of Beatly, and Mr WIGGETT, of East Bradenham, farmers, and one Lydia SHARDELOW, of East Tuddenham, who were all returning from Norwich market.
They intended to have robbed the Rev. Mr IVES of Bungay, on the Friday, who had been collecting his tithes at Easton Dog, but were prevented by the lucky discovery of a boy who overheard their discourse, as he was setting some rabbet [sic] traps. They were pursued by several persons, towards Mattisall, at one of whom (Mr. ATHOW of Hoe,) they fired a pistol, but escaped through the goodness of their horses, and are supposed to have gone towards the sea coast, having robbed on that road, about eight in the evening, Mr GREEN, who keeps the Bull at Attlebridge, and a person near Reepham. It appears from a number of informations, taken by the Dereham Justices, that one of the highwaymen is very well known; that his name is John EWSTON, was apprentice to Robert CARFOOT, of Ringland, in this county, gardener, and ran away from him about three years since. He is about 22 years of age, 5 feet 10 inches high, pale complexion, dark brown hair, had on at the time of the robberies a dark-coloured great coat, dark ribb’d fustian breeches, white waistcoat, rode a black hobby, with a white face, two white feet behind, and switch tail cut, and has a wife and children at Drayton. The other appears to be about 24 years of age, low and squattish, wore his own hair, of a darkish colour, had on a dark surtout coat, leather breeches, and rode a sorrel horse, 16 hands high, with a little white down his face, and nick’d tail; they both wore round hats.

The above highwaymen, from their appearance and speeches, are supposed to belong to a large smuggling party; they were at two or three public houses in and about East Tuddenham, Near Hockering, much in liquor, and about four o’clock on Saturday afternoon drank in company with William GOOLD, horse-dealer, and James SHIPLEY, a farmer’s servant, at the sign of the Coach and Horses in East Tuddenham, behaved in the most riotous and daring manner, bought gunpowder, charged and fired their pistol, abused and greatly terrified the landlord and landlady, Mr and Mrs ATHERTON, rent the said William GOOLD’s coat, and threatened his life.

It is melancholy to reflect, that smuggling is at this time got to so daring a height in this county, partly encouraged by the connivance of too many ill-disposed and self-interested persons, and partly from some defect in the laws, insomuch that gangs of 40 or 50, and more, are seen often to ride in the day-time in the most audacious and triumphant manner from the sea-coast, through the middle of this county, towards London, with carts and horses fully laden, and armed with fire-arms and other offensive weapons, to the great disturbance and terror of the industrious and worthy part of his Majesty’s subjects, witness the late attempt made by a desperate and wicked party of them, of near 20, to murder Mr DIGGENS, who keeps the inn at Rainham, in this county, whom they supposed to have informed against them for some smuggled goods which were lately seized. They besat his house in the night, broke all his locks, did other damage, confined his wife and servants, and swore desperately they would murder him unless sixty pounds were paid them, the price of the goods seized, and it is believed would have carried their wicked design into execution, had not Mr DIGGENS been fortunately from home when the house was beset, and had notice given him by his wife, who narrowly escaped from the smugglers, and alarmed Lord TOWNSHEND and his servants, who immediately came to their assistance, and upon whose approach the smugglers thought proper to make off.

Mr DIGGENS has been obliged to abscond from his house and family ever since, and his house is at this time guarded by four dragoons. — Unless Government, and particularly the respectable gentlemen of this county, will exert themselves to redress these very heavy grievances by appointing a Committee to inspect the laws against smuggling, amending such of them as are deficient, or by making new laws, necessary and proper to bring such notorious offenders to public justice, and putting such laws as are already made in execution with the firmness and intrepidity becoming worthy Magistrates zealous for the good of the community; also by appointing proper coasting vessels to prevent the landing of smuggled goods, or by enacting some law whereby it may not worth the while of such a number of stout, idle, and disorderly persons, to engage in this dangerous traffic, the great nursery of highwaymen, housebreakers, and every desperate offender against the laws, through whom it cannot be said that any man’s person or property is safe. — There is a well known reward of forty pounds for taking of each highwayman, besides other privileges, and the real satisfaction of doing so noble an act to serve their country.”

Hmmm. I think I would rather like to be described as having an “audacious and triumphant manner”. I imagine it would involve a lot of feathers, and possibly a small brass band of likewise insouciant musical souls. I’m afraid I’d probably end up described as “low and squattish”, however.
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This last item was found in the same paper on November 11, and I include it because it gives me the chance to type the word “crumpet”. 😀 This makes me feel both audacious and triumphant.

“William HILLING, Muffin and Crumpet Baker, Removed from his House near Charing-cross, to the Lower Goat-lane, Norwich, Takes the Opportunity of acquainting the Public, that he has begun making Muffins, and will continue during the Season; also Manchers, French Rowls [sic], Biscuit, etc every Morning. He begs Leave to return thanks for the Favours already received, and hopes for a Continuance of the same. N.B. Good allowance to Wholesale Dealers in the Country.”

The paper can be found at http://www.origins.org.uk/genuki/NFK/norfolk/newspapers/nfkchron/1780/11.shtml#nov18 and is a great read. There appears to have been rather a great deal of horse-stealing at the time, so be prepared for villiany!!

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Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog, and it cracks me right up.

This has nothing to do with my family history, just for the record. However, a friend recently reminded me about this blog, and it bears reading for any lover of medieval culture with a funny bone.

A recent entry about Star Wars just killed me so I thought I’d post a snippet here for your enjoyment. Among other things, he writes a verse about several characters who meet on a pilgrimage. Here is the first part of that verse from “A Long Time Agoon in a Shire Far Away”:

NOTES OF CHARACTER SKECCHES FROM THE GENERALE PROLOGE OF
THE PILGRIMES IN THE STERRES

Ther was a SMUGGELERE, and he the beste,
Wyth gowne of whit and snazzye litel veste.
He hadde a shippe that was a noble vessel
For in twelf parsekkes it had yronne the Qessel;
At customes houses nevir did he pause –
For resoned he ther was but litel cause:
To paye a tax or impost made hym wood,
And I seyde his opinioun was good:
Why sholde hys labour fatten up the paunches
Of bureaucrates that sitte upon their haunches
And tak their paye from honest merchauntes werke?
This good man kepte the officiales in the derke
And oft he wolde in his shippes floore hyde.
From oon ende of the sterres to the other syde,
He hadde yflowne, and seene many a wondere,
And yet he hadde no feare of Goddes thondere.
He seyde hys destinee was hys to make
Wyth blastere or wyth sleight or wyth wisecrake.
Of goold and eek of love he had a thirste,
In altercaciouns he ay shot firste.

(sigh) This made my heart happy. ❤ Seriously, go read it. And check out his Twitter account too, because it's a scream.

Word.

Did medieval people actually bathe or not?

This morning I found myself unexpectedly wondering about medieval bathing habits, and I found this grand page:
http://www.medievalists.net/2013/04/13/did-people-in-the-middle-ages-take-baths/

All the answers to your never-asked middle ages hygiene questions!! Well, not all the answers. But a lot. (And some medieval sexytimes too!)

This is the kind of detail that intrigues me:

“If people could afford a to have private bath – and not many could – they would use a wooden tub that could also have a tent-like cloth on top of it. Attendants would bring jugs and pots of hot water to fill the tub. In John Russell’s Book of Nurture, written in the second half of the fifteenth-century, he advises servants that if their lord wants a bath they should:

hang sheets, round the roof, every one full of flowers and sweet green herbs, and have five or six sponges to sit or lean upon, and see that you have one big sponge to sit upon, and a sheet over so that he may bathe there for a while, and have a sponge also for under his feet, if there be any to spare, and always be careful that the door is shut. Have a basin full of hot fresh herbs and wash his body with a soft sponge, rinse him with fair warm rose-water, and throw it over him.

Sounds good to me! Regular folk went to bathhouses, where they often got up to some scandalous secretive scootly-pooping, by which I mean illicit sex. Also, the all-bros hot-tub phenomenon (and oh, my, I hope this is a phenomenon) is not new:

Albrecht Dürer – “Bathhouse” – 1496

“Royalty throughout Europe often entertained guests with baths, often trying to impress each other with how luxurious they could make it. This tradition even goes back to the Carolingians – Einhard says that Charlemagne loved taking baths, and that “he would invite not only his sons to bathe with him, but his nobles and friends as well, and occasionally even a crowd of attendants and bodyguards, so that sometimes a hundred men or more would be in the water together.”

Oh, Chuck, you crazy Carolingian you.

The image above, by the way, is by Albrecht Dürer, and was painted in Nuremberg in 1496. I found a fascinating blog post by a blogger who is committed to revealing “The Hidden Secrets In Albrecht Dürer’s Art And Life”. I haven’t read far enough to see what these putative secrets might be, but the entry about the bathhouse image is fairly – if you’ll pardon the expression – steamy. The post also contains interesting information about bathing habits around that time, including the thought that many people in Nuremberg received a bathing stipend to be spent at the bathhouses, and may have been let off work early once a week to go and get clean. If you’re interested in more, it’s here.

And in case two wasn’t enough for you, here’s one more:
http://www.sarahwoodbury.com/did-medieval-people-bathe/

Well!! There you go. I have an urge to set up a tent over my bath tub and strew some herbs and flowers about so I can have a good royal sort of soak… but I’d have to clean the tub first. Where, oh where are my minions?

Sigh.