‘Read, Think, Talk, Share’

I have always loved reading but usually without direction or purpose. While reading is a joy it can often be lonely so a few months ago I joined the Reading Rooms in Didsbury (led, guided and facilitated by the charming Mariana Casale O’Ryan) and the experience has been frankly amazing.

The online marketing announcement for the Reading Rooms states its members:

“Take part in a discussion of stories, plays and novels by a variety of writers in a beautiful venue, enjoying a cup of tea and cake, usually accompanied by art exhibitions or historical interest displays. We meet in the warm glow of the yellow room at the Old Parsonage to enjoy the multiplicity and richness of perspectives that emerge from sharing the reading experience in a group setting… they read, think, talk and share.”

A cup of tea, cake and a book discussion, Wow! How could I resist? So I went along for a first-taster. The group had been reading some short stories (taken from The New Penguin Book of American Short Stories edited by Kasia Boddy) for a couple of months but each meeting was what might be called a standalone and what I found refreshing was the way the discussions in the group were centred, not on a single interpretation or explication of the chosen story, but on close-reading the text, guided and structured by the insightful questions of our perceptive literary chaperon.

Currently, for our Autumn Read, we have been reading some short stories by Carson McCullers (mainly The Ballad of the Sad Café) and it has proved an inspiring reading experience. But it’s not just the stories or discussions that are stimulating; nor is it the prose form (short story) and sub-genre (Southern Gothic) – forms which seem to have slipped by me in the past. What has proved highly illuminating, in and out of the Reading Rooms, is the insights it has given me in more familiar literary forms and genres and it has even enhanced and stimulated an understanding of a whole range of other artistic disciplines.

Every community has at least one book or reading group but I think we are lucky in Didsbury in having such a fine one as the Reading Rooms in the Old Parsonage (run by Mariana Casale O’Ryan). Its superior ambience and lofty discussions are truly inspirational. Long may it continue.

Book Conservation

Do Judge a Book by its Cover

Enjoyed the talk given by Dr Caroline Chekley-Scott this afternoon (Tuesday 23 June) at the Didsbury Library (as part of the Didsbury Arts Festival programme).

Caroline is currently Collection Care Manager at the University of Manchester Library and she is certainly a passionate and knowledgeable speaker. As you would expect the subject of books, their conservation and history was pitched at a very elementary level and it’s to her credit that Caroline managed to explain the complex nature of bound volumes and their materials with verve and simplicity.

We are very lucky in Manchester in having a number of seriously good libraries which includes both the John Rylands Library (on Deansgate) the John Rylands University Library (Oxford Road), Chethams Library and Manchester Central Library. One hopes that the sterling work the staff at these depositories of priceless knowledge will long continue.

The care, preservation and conservation of books is of vital interest to us all so the work Caroline and other conservationists do is invaluable and we should thank them especially for descending from the ivory towers of academia to share their knowledge and experience with non-specialists like myself.

Thank you Caroline, you made my day.

A Victorian Hero & Villain

While St Clement’s Church is a relatively new building, the history of a parish church in Chorlton goes back a long way. Until 1512, the people of Chorlton had to travel to St Mary’s, the parish church of Manchester, for their baptisms, weddings, and funerals. The prominent Barlow family then established a chapel on what is now Chorlton Green, five minutes walk from the present church. The chapel remained a centre of worship in Chorlton for more than three hundred years.

The original timber-framed chapel was in use until 1779, when a new building was constructed in brick. Although no records prove that it was built on the site of the original chapel, the fact that some 18th Century graves can be found in the graveyard, the oldest dated 1708, suggests this is likely.

The Grave of P.C. Nicholas Cock

‘In this Churchyard lies the grave of Nicholas Cock a member of the Lancashire Constabulary who was killed on 2nd August 1876 at the age of 26. The headstone was removed to Lancashire Constabulary headquarters at Hutton, near Preston on 29th November 1956.’

On 1st August 1870 there was an attempted burglary at a large villa on the corner of Seymour Grove and Manchester Road. The house still stands but has been enlarged into a public house – sometimes called The Grove, sometimes called The Seymour. Two police officers, P.C.Beanland and P.C. Nicholas Cock noticed a suspicious character and separated to intercept the person. In doing so, P.C. Cock surprised the man but in trying to arrest him P.C.Cock was fatally shot by a revolver bullet.

Two local brothers, John and William Habron, were arrested and charged with the killing. William was convicted for murder and sentenced to hang. Fortunately for him the Home Secretary commuted the sentence to life imprisonment.

Some years afterwards, Charlie Peace, an infamous burglar was caught whilst house breaking in London. After a conviction for murder in Sheffield he confessed that he was the killer of P.C. Cock. William Habron was pardoned and received five hundred pounds compensation.

After the old graveyard was closed the original gravestone was moved to the Lancashire police headquarters at Preston in 1956.

To read about the life and times of Charlie Peace, including an account of the murder of P.C. Nicholas Cock try to get hold of a copy of ‘A Book of Remarkable Criminals‘ by H.B. Irving. It’s out of copyright, and probably out of print but available in digital form thanks to the Project Gutenberg.

Mobberley, Cheshire and the Mallorys

The recent news that Wade Davis’s Everest book has won the Samuel Johnson Prize for Non-Fiction has got me thinking about Mobberley.

Davis’s book Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory and the Conquest of Everest is about the tragic story of George Leigh Mallory’s attempt to climb Everest in 1924.

The story has been has been told many times, but for those who are unfamiliar with it, here is a summary. Mallory and his companion Sandy Irvine were last seen climbing a rock step on the Northeast Ridge of Everest at on 8th June 1924 by a fellow team member Noel Odell, who was climbing behind them in support. They never returned, and ever since there has been speculation as to whether they were the first people to climb Everest. George Mallory’s body was later found by an expedition in 1999 and recognised by the name tab in his clothes and letters in his pocket.

George Mallory was the grandson of another George Mallory, one of the five Rectors of St Wilfrid’s, Mobberley, in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The church has long been synonymous with the Mallory Family: In 1619 Thomas Mallory, Dean of Chester, bought the patronage of the Parish Church and in 1625 took up residence in the Manor House. Five Mallorys followed him as Rector, the last being Herbert Leigh-Mallory, father of George Leigh Mallory, who died on Everest. Although the Mallorys moved from Mobberley they retained patronage of the church until the death of Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory, in 1944.

For more on the Mallorys see my sister blog MY BOOKSHELF (Literature, Culture and Philosophical Reflections).

St Wilfrid’s has been modified many times over the centuries but has never lost its medieval character. The old churchyard, resting place of generations of Mobberley families, contains many ancient gravestones with their inscriptions a pithy reflection on those who lie within it.

For more information on St Wilfrid’s see Craig Thornber’s website: http://www.thornber.net/cheshire/htmlfiles/mobberley.html

… memorials graven not on stone but in the hearts and minds of men …

War is terrible and should be outlawed. But conflicts go on and on, in this name or that. On Remembrance Sunday (11th November 2012) I would like to record my own tribute to all those killed, wounded and touched in all wars, battles and conflicts since the dawn of time and pray that one day Homo sapiens will discover a more enlightened way settling political quarrels.

St Chad’s, Handforth, Cheshire

Although there are 230 recorded graves in the graveyard of St Chad’s, with the headstone inscriptions commemorating some 400 people, the official website of the church details everyone, online, as well as offering a graveyard plan and  description of all the memorials inside the church (see St Chad’s CHURCH HISTORY).

The church has to be congratulated for its comprehensive website. Of course there is nothing better than visiting a church and graveyard for family historians and genealogists but this is often impossible especially for our overseas kin. St Chad’s has done much to help overseas and distant researchers get closer to their ancestors.

‘Many of the memorial plaques on the nave are to various members of the Brooke family who had been landowners in Handforth since 1713, although they also had other estates in Cheshire. Of particular interest is the memorial to Peter Brooke, a lieutenant in the Royal Navy who served with distinction in the Napoleonic wars. He was mentioned in dispatches for gallantry in 1809, and was wounded several times. He was given the freedom of Liverpool for his naval services, and he died in 1841. Richard Brooke, younger brother of Peter, became a solicitor in Liverpool, but was also a local antiquarian, and wrote many articles and pamphlets. He was a founder member of the Historical Society of Lancashire and Cheshire, and was elected FSA in 1847. He died in 1861. A silver Communion Flagon is dedicated to his memory.

The family of Richard Brooke FSA continued to own the Brooke Farm Estate in Handforth, and the memorial to his son Alexander Brooke was erected in 1921 by his grandson Alexander Trafford Brooke who is commemorated on the same tablet following his death in 1932.’

Heaton Mersey Congregational Church – of the upper room

The Church was founded in 1825 when meetings for worship were held in one of the local village cottages. The original Church building (now demolished) was opened in 1840, and the associated buildings were constructed during the remainder of the 19th century. The upper hall of the associated buildings was converted into a place of worship in 1990, being furnished with items taken from the Church building before its demolition. Part of the churchyard has been lost but many graves have been preserved, including that of Thomas Kendal and James Milne.

Arguably, Kendal Milne (as it is now known) was the world’s first departmental store and it has a history that stretches back almost 175 years. Founded in 1831 by the Watts family and called the Bazaar it was taken over at the end of 1835 by three floor managers who were working for the Watts. Their names were Thomas Kendal, James Milne and Samuel Faulkner. The Bazaar was re-opened early in 1836 and renamed Kendal, Milne and Faulkner and its genesis and success has now become legendary. Several of them are buried at the Heaton Mersey Congregational Church.

 

 

 

 

 

Did Fate Drive James Dean to His Grave?

I am reading Craig Brown’s True Encounters and came across the story of how Alex Guinness tried to forewarn James Dean about the probability of a car crash just a week before it happened. The curious thing is there were other odd portents about his death, too.

James Dean died on 30th September 1955 and was buried in Fairmount, Indiana, a few miles from Marion, his birthplace on the 8th October. Three thousand mourners attended the funeral services, a thousand more that the population of Fairmount! Mythically, James Dean is seen to be literally like a shooting star: he was a streak of brilliance across America’s movie screens in the mid-1950s and then was gone. But, unlike a real meteor, which shines for a few brief seconds and then vanishes, Jimmy’s metaphorical fire stills burns brightly with the blinding light of a sun.

The story of Jimmy’s death has been the stuff of legend, countless books and magazine articles, motion pictures, Television documentaries and spoken memories by those who knew him, those who loved him, those who sat in the dark of their local movie houses and became his fans forever and those who were born after his death but still sense his magic and fire.

The first premonition about the tragic car crash was when Alec Guinness bumped into Dean at the Villa Capri, a local Hollywood hangout, just a week before the crash, he told Dean that he would die behind the wheel of his new sports car ‘within a week’ if he drove it, but Dean laughed off the suggestion. There was no way he could have known that Guinness’s warning would become a chillingly reality.

The second premonition of his death was when he was photographed inside one of the coffin ‘caskets’ at the funeral parlour which a few months later his corpse would be laid to rest.

The third premonition was when he was photographed at Cal Dean’s grave in Fairmount, Indiana. Remember Cal was the character he played in East of Eden and he was eventually buried in Fairmount, Indiana. Coincidence? Hmmmm…

There was also that bizarre twist of fate on September 17th 1955, two weeks before the accident, when Dean filmed a thirty second commercial for the National Highway Safety Committee stating at the end of the commercial ‘Take it easy driving. The life you might save might be mine.’ He should have said ‘Take it easy driving. The life you might save might be your own’. Uncanny, odd, coincidental…

St John’s, Heaton Mersey, Manchester

St John the Baptist of Heaton Mersey (or commonly known as St John’s) was built between 1846-1850 and was given Grade II listing by English Heritage in March 1875.

The churchyard is distinguished by ashlar stone gatepiers, good Victorian memorials and an encircling group of mature trees. The unusual lych-gate is of robust scale and well detailed with ashlar dressings and a foliate band, with flanking wings forming stone benches.

One memorial is particularly interesting and that is of The Right Reverend James Prince Lee (born 28 July 1804 and died 24 December 1869) who was the first Bishop of Manchester. His memorial sermon was preached by Archbishop E. W. Benson and was published with biographical details by J. F. Wickenden and others.

James Prince Lee was the First Bishop of Manchester between 1847-69. He Married Susannah Penrice, of Elmbridge, Worcester on 25 December 1830 and had two daughters. He died at his residence, Mauldeth Hall, near Manchester and bequeathed his fine library to Owens College (now the University of Manchester); his widow also left £1000 to provide two annual prizes for encouraging the study of the New Testament in Greek.

As a Postscript to this piece let me add there is an interesting story about a grave around the corner from St John’s Church which is (was) almost in the back garden of two semi-detached houses on the main Didsbury Road. See the story ‘Gravestone saved from destruction’ in the Stockport Express (1 September 2010).

The Graveyard of Hell Upon Earth

In the mid-19th century the ironically-named Angel Meadow was truly the most desolate place in England. It was Manchester’s most notorious squalid slum where vandalism, muggings, murders, drunken brawls, and prostitution were common and rats migrated in droves like wildebeest after dark.

The most infamous part of Angel Meadow was the former burial ground of St Michael’s Church, which contained the mass graves of 40,000 paupers. As social and living conditions worsened in the Meadow some resorted to digging up the cemetery and selling its soil as fertilizer to nearby farmers. The situation became so bad that an Act of Parliament was passed in 1855 to cover up graveyards with flagstones, and the graveyard became known as St Michael’s Flags. But often bones of the dead were exposed and carried away, and occasionally human skulls have been kicked about for a football on the ground.

Paupers were buried with very little respect and it was reported that decaying bodies were piled up and then thrown into pits which subsequently filled the neighbourhood up with the most revolting and injurious gasses. The pits had to be covered up with planks and locked down at night to deter vermin and other pests from scavenging.

Things have improved since then, although the Meadow still fails to live up to its pleasant sounding name. Its grave stones have been levelled and often serve as a football pitch. Hardly a worthy memorial for the dead of any urban parish, especially as relatives and ancestors may be among them. To say the Angel Meadow graveyard is the most disreputable resting place in Manchester would be the understatement of the decade.