History

INFECTIOUS SHERBORNE… SO WHAT’S NEW?

Cindy Chant, Blue Badge Guide

Often in history when there was a plague, an earthquake, flood or epidemic, people would take that as a sign that the human race must mend its ways. And now, alone in my garden, I sit and ponder, because for many weeks I had been intending to write an article on Sherborne’s nineteenth-century transformation from a filthy and disease-ridden town, to a town with clean water and good health.

As humans have spread across the world, so infectious diseases been a constant companion. Outbreaks still occur, even in these modern times, although not every outbreak reaches pandemic levels as COVID-19 has done.

In common with many Dorset towns in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Sherborne public hygiene was just appalling – the worst of all Dorset towns, some suggested. Certainly the death rate from ‘the fever’ – typhoid and cholera – in the years 1820 to 1870 was very high. The death rate in 1840 was 30.8 per thousand and by 1860 it had risen to a horrendous 67.4 per thousand. This meant that almost 400 Sherborne people died each year.

In 1859 the Digby Estate reported that work on the harvest was seriously restricted, as 41 workers had died and of the remaining others, half were too ill to attend for work. And these deaths did not only occur amongst

the working people; Sherborne’s top industrialist, William Willmot, who owned the Sherborne silk mills and lived in Sherborne House, died of ‘the fever’ in 1787, aged just 49.

Prior to 1870, there were few satisfactory sewers or drainage systems. The whole town was criss-crossed by a maze of open sewer trenches, most of which emptied into the River Yeo at the lowest part of the town, where the railway station is located nowadays. Greenhill and Newland had no sewers, but many houses had cesspits in their gardens. In wet weather these cesspits often overflowed into the street. There was a big sewer in Acreman Street, but this regularly overflowed and contaminated the clear stream (the Saxons’ scire burn) – almost a quarter of the people in Sherborne, including the big public school, obtained their drinking water from the clear stream.

Half Moon Street was the worst of all the streets in the town; a deep sewer ran the full length of the street, with its lowest point opposite the entrance to the Half Moon Hotel, where it was almost six feet deep. A take-off sewer ran through the arch of the hotel into the stable yard at the back, where it became a deep open trench. From the stable yard the trench ran through the fields to the South, discharging into the River Yeo.

Half Moon Street had been called Lodborne, which probably derives from the dialect word ‘larty’, meaning ‘dirty’, and South Street was formerly Lodborne Lane. In the area at the junction of these two streets with Cheap Street, there were five slaughterhouses. This meant that all the blood, guts, stomach contents and general rubbish just washed down into the sewer. Once in the sewer, it flowed slowly, sometimes very slowly, down into the River Yeo. In hot, dry summers, the stench was just unbearable.

And what of the drinking water for the town? An estimated 1,000 to 1,200 people drew their drinking water from the ‘clear stream’. About 300 houses had their own private shallow wells and there were 5 public pumps in the town: one in Newland Gardens; one in Half Moon Street; one in South Street (Ludborne Lane); one in Acreman Street and one in Long Street. There were also four water sellers in the town, who charged one farthing for every ten gallons. At the time there were three breweries and several pubs which brewed their own beer in Sherborne, with not all the water coming from very hygienic sources.

So that was the picture of Sherborne prior to the eventual development of a satisfactory water and sewerage system for the town.

We can see now that the medical profession did not appreciate that sewage-contaminated water was the main cause of typhoid and cholera, and that these infections were not properly understood until about the 1870s. Ordinary working people accepted that ‘the fever’ was just a fact of life and could strike at any time. Of course, in those days Sherborne was a much smaller town, but the livestock population was much larger. Some 450 horses were stabled in the town, while cattle, sheep and pigs were regularly moved about, and animal manure heaps were just everywhere, providing a constant threat to public health.

In 1848 the Public Health Act was passed, as the government now realised that they and local government would have to take on responsibility for improving the health of the nation. This Public Health Act was to start the most important improvement ever in the living conditions of residents in the towns and cities of England and Wales.

So knowing all this and still pondering, I thought to myself ‘what’s new?’. We’ve had ‘Infectious Sherborne Then’, and we’ve got ‘Infectious Sherborne Now’ – the problems are different, but it feels the same. History so often repeats itself! Our ancestors were all too aware of what it was to be under threat and what it took to be reassured. They may not have understood the risks, although these are made clear to us today, but nevertheless we still suffer from fear of the future.

Celtic Christianity started after the Romans left Britain in 410 and the Celts felt an intense closeness to God. It was part of their everyday life and in times such as these now, when I feel anxious, I find myself turning to an old Celtic prayer, which is as relevant today as it was all those centuries ago.

Be thou between me and all things grisly Be thou before me in all things mean. Be thou between me and all things gruesome Coming darkly towards me.

This little prayer originated sometime between the fifth and ninth centuries and although we may live in a grisly time, I find it is a comfort to know that we are not the first generation to face all this.

Much of my information comes from Mr R Pountain’s History of the Castleton Pumping Station, and I would encourage any of you who want to learn more to find a copy for yourself.

LOST DORSET NO. 8 CERNE ABBAS

David Burnett, The Dovecote Press

As February 2021 is unlikely to bring much cause for celebration here is a reminder from 1909 that fairs, fetes, and having fun as a family will surely return. Townsend’s travelling fair, once familiar throughout Dorset during the summer season, was founded in 1876 by William Townsend, whose job on a mail coach fell victim to the expansion of the railway network. With nine mouths to feed, he bought a small children’s roundabout which packed away in a horse-drawn cart: once set up, the horse then turned the roundabout. The steamdriven roundabout was worked by a traction engine called Empress of the South. At the table nearby the younger Townsends made paper confetti, which they laboriously cut by hand and sold for 1d a packet so children could throw it when riding the galloping horses.

Lost Dorset: The Villages and Countryside 1880-1920, by David Burnett, is a large format paperback, price £12, and is available locally from Winstone’s Books or directly from the publishers.

dovecotepress.com

OBJECT OF THE MONTH THE BERYL DEAN WEDDING DRESS

Elisabeth Bletsoe, Curator, Sherborne Museum

With Valentine’s Day in mind, this month’s choice is a wedding dress of satin and organza, with appliqué motifs embellished by metal thread embroidery. The portrait neckline is created by a wide satin band lined with net and softly folded; the fitted bodice is a deep cream, lightly boned and decorated on the breast with a passementerie arrangement of teardrop pearls, diamante beads and cut-out leaves and petals. The organza top-skirt features groups of stylised barley ears, tulips and five-petalled flowers becoming larger and more complex towards the hem with the addition of bell-shaped flowers, pearls and beading. It was worn in 1954, designed and created by Beryl Dean, a nationally and internationally renowned embroiderer.

Beryl was famed for reviving the metal thread technique particularly in ecclesiastical settings, for introducing modernist influences and for raising the status of professional craftswomen. She had some significant and extraordinary commissions including for the Bishop of London during the Silver Jubilee and also for the Archbishop of Canterbury’s enthronement cope. Owing to her great services in furthering the craft, she was awarded an MBE.

The significance of this dress was ‘rediscovered’ earlier in 2020, when further research was carried out into its provenance. Searching on-line for Beryl Dean led to a photo of a 1948 wedding dress which looked remarkably similar to ours. All we knew for certain was that the dress had come to us via a friend of the then head of textile team, who wished to remain anonymous. The wedding had taken place at Lacock Parish church on the 24th April, so research of local papers could reveal for whom the dress was purchased. Both the dress and a fascinator that accompanied it had the ‘by Beryl Dean London’ label stitched inside. According to one of the original notes, it was the only wedding dress ever designed by her and the museum was incredibly privileged to have it. We contacted the Beryl Dean Education Trust, a link discovered through browsing online, thinking that this could not possibly be the case. We received an almost instant reply from the archivist who was extremely excited to hear from us. It turned out to be true – that Beryl had started a small couture business in Pimlico after the Second World War which had only had a very brief window of opening. As far as the archivist was concerned, we have the only known example of this work, altered slightly for evening wear, which will now be permanently recorded as ‘The Sherborne Dress’. She is now waiting until it is safer to travel to come and see it and she has kindly offered me some literature which will help put our dress in context and some potential help with conservation from one of Beryl’s former associates.

It shows how our amazing collections are constantly revealing new wonders, and how Sherborne Museum has the great privilege of caring for the dress, not only for future generations in our community, but for the nation. The photo is courtesy of The Beryl Dean Foundation Trust and reproduced with kind permission.

Sherborne Museum is regrettably closed due to the Coronavirus pandemic and will re-open when it is safe to do so for visitors and volunteers.

sherbornemuseum.co.uk