Suffolk Summer

            When John Tate Appleby from Arkansas stumbled from a train on to the dark and rainy platform at Cockfield railway station in Suffolk one evening in March 1945, the war in Europe was all but over. During the Second World War, many Americans like him had arrived in East Anglia to serve their country. From November 1942, the US Eighth Air Force had flown 493 operational missions from East Anglia, comprising a total of 94,948 sorties and dropping 199,833 tons of bombs. Nearly seven thousand young Americans serving with the 2nd Air Division lost their lives.

             The last mission of the Eighth Air Force flew in April 1945, however, just after John Appleby’s arrival. During the seven months that he spent in Suffolk, he appears to have had plenty of spare time which he spent travelling around East Anglia, mainly by bicycle. Although he admired Cambridge, Ely and Norwich, John Appleby fell in love with Suffolk and the result was a book, Suffolk Summer, which has charmed its readers ever since. 

            Born on 10^th  June, 1907 in Fayetteville, Arkansas, John Tate Appleby came from a rural area himself. His family were Arkansas farmers who owned apple orchards and canning factories. By the time Appleby arrived in Suffolk, however, he had already seen a great deal of Europe. After graduating from Harvard in 1928, he had studied at the Sorbonne in Paris and then had travelled around Europe working as a reporter for the Washington Post. When America joined the Allies in the war against Germany, he enlisted in the Eighth Air Force as a trainer in celestial navigation. It was this work that eventually brought him to Suffolk. He seems to have become enamoured with the county from his very first morning. “The American eye,” he wrote, “is struck first of all by the dazzling greenness of the fields and by the beauty of the hedgerows.”

            The reader of Suffolk Summer can be forgiven for wondering whether John Appleby had very much celestial navigation training to do. He seems to have spent a great deal of time cycling around the countryside, visiting churches, or socialising at the servicemen’s canteen which was run by the Salvation Army at the Athenaeum in Bury St Edmunds. 

However, in Suffolk Summer, he states quite clearly that he did not want to write a book about the war. He wanted to write a book about Suffolk. In addition to this, even as late as 1948 when his book was first published, he would not have felt able to write about the military aspects of his time in England. We can guess the location of the airfield where he was based, eight miles south of Bury, but he never reveals its precise location. Wherever it was exactly, it seems to have been the perfect place for John Appleby the mediaeval historian, set in the heart of the Suffolk countryside, close to Bury St. Edmunds, Lavenham and Long Melford, places that were – and still are - steeped in medieval history. One colleague who had worked with him at the American Historical Review after the war, told his obituarist that “he steadfastly maintained that his world ended in 1215” and he found much to fascinate him in Suffolk, including – at Bury Abbey - the place where the barons met in 1214 to swear to force King John to grant them the rights that were eventually written down as the Magna Carta. In Suffolk Summer, he wrote that Bury’s Norman tower was “the most beautiful and satisfying piece of architecture in East Anglia.”

            Appleby took up the hobby of brass rubbing with enthusiasm and cycled around Suffolk pursuing it, but his book is as much about the Suffolk countryside and the people he met as it is about history. He tells us about a sailor who cycled alongside him for a while on his way to visit the parents of a friend killed in action in the Pacific, a “grand tripe dinner” cooked by Mrs. Jarman of Bury, and his good friends, Bernard Cox and Arnold Ellis, also serving their country and idealistic about the future, when the war would finally be over, and the promised welfare state would come to be.

            In October 1945, Appleby was transferred to East Wretham in Norfolk in preparation for his return to the United States. His final departure was postponed so many times and he said goodbye to his friends so often that he began to find it embarrassing. After one such postponement, “in sheer desperation, I sat down under a hedgerow and began this account of my stay in England, and the writing of it, together with long walks in the neighbourhood, filled my days very comfortably.”

            Appleby returned to the United States on the Queen Mary in early November, where he spent some years running one of the family’s apple orchards. It was during this time that he completed Suffolk Summer and when it was published by the East Anglian Magazine in 1948, its profits went to the Appleby Rose Garden in the grounds of the Abbey in his beloved Bury St. Edmunds.

            During the 1950s, John Appleby returned to live and work in Washington where he wrote several other books, academic works on the English kings, John, Stephen, Henry II and Richard I. He was also, for many years, an associate editor of the American Historical Review. A private man, who was a devout Catholic and loved music, he never married and, after he died of leukaemia in Washington in 1974, he was buried alongside his parents in Fayetteville. Although he is remembered in academic circles in the United States, he is perhaps held in highest regard in the county of which he wrote:

            “The English landscape at its subtlest and loveliest is to be seen in the County of Suffolk. I can say this with dogmatic certainty because it is the only county in England that I can pretend to know. Furthermore, the people of Suffolk themselves tell me this, and I know it must be so.”

1945: Summary Justice or International Law?

In the spring of 1945, preparing for the trials of Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg, U.S. Supreme Court Justice, Robert Jackson, asked a promising 37-year-old lawyer, Telford Taylor, to serve as a war crimes prosecutor. The trials were being undertaken jointly with the other leading wartime allies, Great Britain, the Soviet Union and France. Taylor would ultimately be responsible for the prosecutions of German industrialists and economists, but one of his initial tasks was to argue the case for holding the trials at all, particularly when it came to the surviving Nazi leaders, such as Goering, Hess and Ribbentrop. Hitler, Goebbels and Himmler had all managed to commit suicide and were never brought to trial.

The Soviet Union was implacably opposed to trying the top Nazis and wanted them to be summarily executed. This can be seen in the context of the despotism of the Soviet system itself, but it should also be remembered that at least 20 million Russians, military and civilian, died during the Second World War. There were some strong arguments against an international war crimes trial too: the trials could never be fair, they would give the opportunity for the Germans to state their case (Goering tried this, relatively successfully) during the trial process. Stalin had one principle ally in his demands for summary justice, Winston Churchill. Churchill said that as far as he was concerned, the Nazi leaders could be shot without a trial as soon as they were caught "and their identity is established."

It was the Americans who held firm to the belief that the establishment of an international war crimes procedure and concepts of human rights was paramount. This, despite the understandable feelings of vengeance that were prevalent at the end of the Second World War towards those who had committed the terrible crimes of the Nazi era  - although, arguably, the full details of the Holocaust came out through the trials themselves.

Telford Taylor argued that the Allies should not "let... the fate of the Nazis take an unguided course.... A scattering of small trials would have carried no weight, whereas the world's eyes and ears would be fastened on a big international trial." Taylor's boss, Judge Robert Jackson, took the argument to the highest level in the United States government, where there was also some strong feeling against the trials, arguing

You want to execute them for the right reasons, if you want to do anything for the future peace of the world. If we stand for all the things we’ve been saying we stand for, we can hardly refuse to make an inquiry. It’s difficult for me to see why you can hesitate to record here the evidence and make it available – the record of its rise and that barbarism and all that – to have it available, and this is the only real official way to do it.

In the end, the American view prevailed. They ensured that the universal detestation of what the Germans had done would not damage the cause for which the Allies had fought. 

Telford Taylor's own account can be found in The Anatomy of the Nuremberg Trials (1993). 

A Heavy Price to Pay

According to Peter Ackroyd, there was a “thriving homosexual community" in London in 1339  (London: The Biography). You would not know this from reading most history books about the city or, indeed, anything very much about homosexuality before or after the 14th century. However, historiography has caught up a little in recent years so I am only going to give one small example of what happened to gay men in the early 18th century.

The following are verbatim accounts of cases that were tried at the Old Bailey in the year 1726-7 [taken from the wonderful Old Bailey Online website, http://www.oldbaileyonline.org/ ]. The charges were what was almost invariably described as “the heinous and detestable Sin of Sodomy.” Interestingly, in similar accounts of the time, reference was also often made to the fact that the “crime” was “unknown in Christian countries” although this was rather belied by the number and regularity of the charges brought. In most cases the defendants were acquitted for lack of evidence. I have chosen all of my extracts from the year 1726-7, although the accounts are quite typical of any in the late-17^th and 18^th centuries. Some of the 17^th–century cases aren’t suitable for a blog, not this blog anyway, as the accounts are quite detailed and luridly (I hesitate to use the word ‘lingeringly’) described. Some of them are taken from Ordinary’s Accounts, which were written up by the chaplain of Newgate prison after a last interview with a condemned prisoner. They were supposed to give an opportunity for the admission of guilt and repentance. Sometime they were.

The events below mostly took place in the unfortunately-named Mrs. Clap’s house in Holborn, London. She kept what was well-known as a “molly house,” a pejorative name for a place where homosexuals and cross-dressers met. Three of the men who were convicted, Gabriel Lawrence, William Griffin and Thomas Wright, were hanged at Tyburn on 9^th May 1726. Others were sentenced to a time in the public pillory. In case anyone thinks this was a lenient sentence, contemporary accounts describe prisoners being pelted with “with tubs of blood, garbage, and ordure from their slaughter-houses, and with this ammunition, plentifully diversified with dead cats, turnips, potatoes, addled eggs, and other missiles.” Homosexuals who were pilloried were quite often also hit by stones and bricks and it was not uncommon for them to receive fatal injuries. It all seems to me to be a heavy price to pay for love.

"9^th May 1726, Ordinary’s Account

Gabriel Lawrence was indicted for feloniously committing with Thomas Newton, aged 30 Years, the heinous and detestable Sin of Sodomy. Thomas Newton thus depos'd. At the End of last June, one Peter Bavidge (who is not yet taken) and - Eccleston (who dy'd last Week in Newgate) carry'd me to the House of  Margaret Clap (who is now in the Compter) and there I first became acquainted with the Prisoner. Mrs. Clap's House was next to the Bunch of Grapes in Field-lane, Holbourn. It bore the publick Character of a Place of Entertainment for Sodomites, and for the better Conveniency of her Customers, she had provided Beds in every Room in her House. She usually had 30 or 40 of such Persons there every Night, but more especially on a Sunday. I was conducted up one pair of Stairs, and by the Perswasions of Bavidge (who was present all the Time) I suffer'd the Prisoner to commit the said Crime. He has attempted the same since that Time, but I never would permit him any more. When Mrs. Clap was taken up, in February last, I went to put in Bail for her; at which Time, Mr. Williams, and Mr. Willis told me, they believ'd I could give Information, which I promis'd to do, and I went next Day, and gave Information accordingly. - Samuel Stephens thus depos'd. Mrs. Clap's House was notorious for being a Molly-House. - In order to detect some that frequented it, I have been there several Times, and seen 20 or 30 of 'em together, making Love, as they call'd it, in a very indecent Manner. Then they used to go out by Pairs, into another Room, and at their return, they would tell what they had been doing together, which they call'd marrying. The Prisoner acknowledg'd, that he had been several Times at Clap's House, but never knew that it was a Rendesvouz for such Persons. - He call'd several to his Character. Henry Hoxan thus depos'd. I have kept the Prisoner Company, and served him with Milk these 18 Years, for he is a Milk Man , and I am a Cow-Keeper, I have been with him at the Oxfordshire Feast, and there we have both got drink, and come Home together in a Coach, and yet he never offer'd any such thing to me. Thomas Fuller thus depos'd. The Prisoner married my Daughter, 18 Years ago; She has been dead these 7 Years, and he has a Girl by her, that is 13 Years old. - Several others deposd, that he was a very sober Man, and that they had often been in his Company when he was drunk; but never found him inclinable to such Practices. Guilty . Death . He was a 2d. Time indicted, for committing Sodomy with   Mark Partridge , Nov. 10 . But being Convicted of the Former, he was not Try'd for this.

"20^th May 1726

William Griffin was indicted for Committing Sodomy with Thomas Newton, May 10. Thomas Newton thus depos'd. The Prisoner and Thomas Phillips (who is since absconded) were Lodgers for near 2 Years at Clap's House. I went up stairs, while the Prisoner was a Bed, and there he committed the Act with me. Samuel Stevens depos'd, That he had seen the Prisoner, and his Gang at Clap's House. Guilty. Death.

"20^th May 1726

George Kedear, alias Kegar, was indicted for committing Sodomy with Edward Courtney, aged 18 Years, July 15. Edward Courtney thus depos'd. I first became acquainted with the Prisoner, when I was a Servant at the Yorkshire Gray in Bloomsbury Market, but I went afterwards to live at a Cook's Shop in  St. Martins Lane and there the Prisoner follow'd me He came there to Dine in July last, and sat in a back Room in the Yard. I went to fetch away the Plates, he took me in his Arms and kist me, and sollicited me to let him commit Sodomy with me. I consented, and he committed the Fact. I afterwards went to live at Thomas Orme 's a Silk-Dyer, at the Red Lyon in Crown Court in Knaves Acre, and he kept a House for entertaining such Persons, and sold Drink in private back Rooms; and there the Prisoner came often after me to persuade me to do the same again. The Prisoner thus made his defence. Ned Courtney ask'd me to do it; but I told him I could not, for I had got an injury. What, says he, I suppose I am not handsome enough for you, but if you don't like me, I have got a pretty younger Brother, and I'le fetch him fir you. - As for going to Tom Orme 's, he was my School Fellow, and sold a Pot of good. Drink Ned there again solicited me to do it, and beg'd me to go into the Privy . He was afterwards turn'd out of his Place, and I met him in a very poor Condition, and he told me that he had nothing to subsist upon but what he got by doing such things. - I advis'd him to leave off that course of Life; but he said he wanted Money, and must have it, and if I would not help him to some, he'd swear my Life away. The Prisoner call'd 2 or 3 Women to his Character, who Swore that he was a very civil courteous Fellow. The Jury found him Guilty. Death .

"22^nd Feb 1727

Richard Skews and  James Coltis, were indicted for Sodomitical Practices at a  Tavern in Drury-Lane, (where 'tis thought they might had a more Natural Entertainment) on the 19th of Jan. last. Roger Davis depos'd. That some Time after the Prisoner came to his House, his Drawer told him there was two Men above Stairs, which he did believe to be Sodomites, for he heard them kissing each other, and saw such Actions as was very unseemly for Men to offer; upon which he raised a Ladder in the Yard, and which the Drawer look'd into the Chamber-Window; where they both had an ocular Proof of what they both suspected: But the particular Relation being too Beastly to appear in this Paper, we refer the Reader to the Pillory, where he may see the Heads, &c. the Jury found them both guilty .

"Richard Skews and James Coltis, for Sodomitical Practices, to stand on the Pillory, to suffer one Year's Imprisonment, and to give Security for one Year more."

Evil May Day: Hostility to Immigrants in London, 1517

David Cameron’s decision to make a speech about immigration in the run up to local elections may be surprising to some. It is unusual for a political leader in Britain, whether a monarch or a Prime Minister, to make such an overt statement about immigration http://www.anhourago.co.uk/show.aspx?l=8377478&d=501 Nevertheless, there is a history of violent, albeit short-lived outbursts of anti-foreign feeling in Britain, usually as a result of rabble-rousing by a demagogue like Oswald Mosley.

One example took place in London in 1517 and became known as “Evil May Day.” This sudden, and probably terrifying, riot occurred two weeks after an inflammatory sermon by a Dr. Bell, in which he appealed to "Englishmen to cherish and defend themselves, and to hurt and grieve aliens for the common weal." Attacks on foreigners began immediately, but events came to a head on the first of May when apprentices, later joined by Thames watermen and city porters (these three groups seemed always to be up for a riot) ran wild in the city of London, attacking foreigners, looting their homes and shops. In this case, the “foreigners” were mainly French, but such outbreaks of aggression took place periodically, aimed at Jews, or the Dutch or other groups who were identified as being an economic threat to the indigenous population.

Here’s a contemporary account from Hall’s Chronicle (ca. 1548) which was sympathetic to the rioters: "[The Eighth year of King Henry VIII.] In this season, the Genevese, Frenchmen and other strangers said and boasted themselves to be in such favour with the king and his council, that they set nought by the rulers of the city; and the multitude of strangers was so great about London, that the poor English artificers could scarce get any living; and, most of all, the strangers were so proud, that they disdained, mocked and oppressed the Englishmen, which was the beginning of the grudge."  ... Allegations of assaults and a murder follow before the account continues, "For, amongst others that sore grudged at these matters, there was a broker in London, called John Lincoln, which wrote a bill before Easter, desiring Doctor Sandish at his sermon at Saint Mary Spital, the Monday in Easter week, to move the mayor and aldermen to take part with the commonalty against the strangers.  The doctor answered, that it became not him to move any such thing in a sermon." Lincoln then succeeded in persuading a Dr. Bele or Bell to give a sermon about the dangers the foreigners posed to those "born in London."...  "Of this sermon many a light person took courage, and openly spake against strangers.  And, as the devil would, the Sunday after, at Greenwich, in the king's gallery was Francis de Bard, which, as you heard, kept an Englishman's wife and his goods.  And with him were Domingo, Anthony Caueler, and many more strangers; and there they, talking with Sir Thomas Palmer, knight, jested and laughed that Francis kept the Englishman's wife, saying that if they had the Mayor's wife of London, they would keep her.  Sir Thomas said, 'Sirs, you have too much favour in England.' There were divers English merchants by, and heard them laugh and were not content, in so much as one William Bolt, a mercer, said, 'Well, you whoresome Lombards, you rejoice and laugh; by the mass, we will one day have a day at you, come when it will;' and that saying the other merchant affirmed." 

The chronicle then goes on to describe the riots of the following May Day: "Then suddenly there was a common secret rumour, and no man could tell how it began, that on May day next, the city would rebel, and slay all  aliens ...” The rioting involved many hundreds of people and there was considerable destruction to "foreigners' " property, although it was not recorded whether anyone was killed or not.

After intervention by Sir Thomas More, the riot was quelled and hundreds were arrested. Henry VIII pardoned most of them but 13 rioters, including John Lincoln, were executed for treason. It is interesting to compare how, even in the 16^th century, the authorities were aware of the dangers of allowing tensions about immigration to boil over into violence and hatred. 

I'm sure that the last thing Cameron intends is to encourage aggression or violence towards immigrants or asylum seekers, but history tells us that the smallest thing can exacerbate tensions, particularly at a time of economic hardship. Perhaps our current leaders should study a little more history.

Insurrection: A Suffolk Tradition

Visit Suffolk [ http://www.visitsuffolk.com/ ] is an organisation that has the task of promoting tourism to the county and is one of many bodies marketing Suffolk as a picturesque and bucolic retreat for jaded city-dwellers & holiday home buyers. According to its website Suffolk has “a countryside dotted with quintessential English villages and thriving market towns.” It alludes to the county’s history, too, as a selling point. “Suffolk has its place in history,” it says, “tales of Anglo Saxon kings and Tudor Queens.” 

All this may well be true, but just as in the 18th century, when Constable and Gainsborough’s paintings portrayed a landscape and society at odds with the sordid reality and enormous social unrest of the time,  Suffolk’s pretty aspect hides real hardship and social division. There are many towns and villages where local people have simply been driven out by the high costs of housing (or even of beach huts). Closures and cuts in local services have resulted in the people of Suffolk taking to the streets in protest. But this is nothing new, the county has a long history of rebellion.  Here is my brief survey of the long tradition of insurrection in Suffolk.

In 1214, the Norman Barons of England met at the abbey in Bury St Edmunds and swore an oath to force King John to accept Magna Carta. The Barons, of course, were merely protecting their own interests. It would be a long time until the lower orders were even regarded as human beings. However, Bury itself would be the scene of many more open acts of revolt. In The History & Antiquities of the Abbey of Bury St Edmunds by Richard Yates (1843, 2^nd  ed.) there is a chapter with the odd title of “Contests with Townsmen.” This, in fact, describes the ongoing political unrest in the town for almost the whole of the period of the Abbey’s power. During the mediaeval period, the Abbots had supreme power over the inhabitants of the town. Yates describes many of the conflicts  from 1264 onwards. He clearly feels that the Abbey had the right to hold totalitarian power over the town, and so his history has to be read in that light. In “1292 we find the convent and the townsmen again involved in a dispute, that appears to have been conducted with much asperity and animosity on both sides." There was more trouble in 1305 when the Alderman and burgesses were brought to court for "withholding fines ...  resisting the officers employed in distraining, throwing stones upon, and damaging, the roof of the church; stoning the workmen employed in repairing the same; beating the servants of the Abbey; etc." In 1327 "a vast force from the neighbouring towns and villages made several attacks upon the monastery and its possessions."

The events of 1327 in Bury were perhaps the most violent and certainly the most serious. What Yates describes as a “vast force” has been estimated at around 20,000 local people. They attacked the abbey and, over a period of several days, burned down and destroyed buildings in the abbey grounds and satellite  properties in nearby villages like Horningsheath (Horringer) and Fornham St. Martin. The Abbot still clung to power but concessions had to be made. Unrest continued until the Abbey lost its powers during the Dissolution of the Monasteries and gradually fell into disuse.

The image that the mediaeval peasantry were compliant or servile is not borne out by historical documents. The Court Rolls of Walsham le Willows, 1351-1399; edited by Ray Lock (Boydell Press, 2002) give hundreds of examples of low-grade acts of rebellion and petty law-breaking amongst the bonded labourers of Suffolk in the fourteenth century. It’s hard to know whether these examples of “contempt of the lord” were political in any sense that we would recognise today but it certainly doesn't give an impression of docility:

   “Elias Typetot made an assault on the reeve of this manor, threatening him in breach of the peace and in contempt of the lord. Elias being questioned could not deny [the charge] and placed himself on the lord's mercy...” [Walsham Court, 15 July, 1363] ... “John Manser and John Pye each amerced 12d because in the autumn they made an assault on John Baner, the lord's bailiff, in contempt of the lords.”  [Walsham Court, 16 September, 1376] ... “Edmund Patel amerced 3s 4d for contempt of the lord, openly abusing all the jurors in full court.”  [Walsham Court 22 February, 1380] ... “William Grocer, the son of William, amerced ½ mark for contempt of the lord, making an assault on the lord's bailiff and beating him.”  [Walsham Court, 26 September, 1385]

There is an extensive account of the poll tax rebellion known as the Peasants' Revolt which took place across the whole of England in 1381, in Edgar Powell's The Rising in East Anglia in 1381 (Cambridge University Press, 1896). The principal leader of the rebels in East Anglia was John Wrawe of Sudbury, described in contemporary documents as a chaplain.  In June 1381, he led an attack at the manor of Overhall in Essex, near Long Melford, directed against the lord of the manor Richard Lyons, who was notoriously corrupt. The rebels proceeded to Cavendish and attacked the parish church where they took the goods of John de Cavendish which had been hidden in the church tower. They then visited various towns and villages in the area, such as Lavenham, Sudbury and  Bury,  their attacks being directed upon the property of the lords of the manor. Although condemning the violence in his account of the peasants' revolt in East Anglia, Powell admits that "we cannot...  withhold a large measure of sympathy both for the ideas which prompted, and for the results which followed the action." The rebellion was crushed and the ringleaders were punished severely. In Cavendish, the village sign still celebrates those events.

Although Suffolk was relatively quiet during the Tudor period, some Suffolk people joined up with the Norfolk-based Kett’s rebellion in 1549, in what became known as the “year of the many-headed monsters.” The rebellion was caused by increasing enclosure of common land by the wealthy. Although historians generally regard enclosure as a progressive move which eventually led to the agricultural revolution, the issue of enclosure was a matter of life and death for peasants who had traditionally survived by grazing livestock on common land. A contemporary account of Kett's rebellion, Stow's Summarie (1565), the earliest account, played down the fact that there were similar rebellions at the same time in Devonshire, Cornwall, Oxfordshire, and Buckinghamshire and the contribution "made by the commoners of Suffolk to the commotion time.” But the work did admit that those who had 'encamped them selves' on Mousehold Heath (near Norwich) had come from both 'Norffolke and Suffolke' and gave as much attention to the execution on 5 February 1550 of Robert Bell of Gazeley, the leader of the Suffolk insurrection, as it spent upon the execution of William and Robert Kett.

From The 1549 Rebellions and the Making of Early Modern England by Andy Wood (Cambridge University Press, 2007): “The most powerful surviving plebeian memory...  comes, appropriately enough, from the town of Lavenham. Early Tudor Lavenham provides a strong example of continuity in local traditions of popular protest. In 1525, and again in 1549, the weavers and farmers of the Lavenham area rose in armed rebellion. In the spring of 1525, thousands of local people had gathered in the town in order to demonstrate against Cardinal Wolsey's Amicable Grant. ... Twenty years later, a Lavenham man named James Fuller admitted to plotting the new rising with John Porter. The target of the insurrection was to be the 'rich churles' and 'heardemen' of the locality, whom they intended to kill. They had had enough and in defending themselves, alluded to being let down over promises made  to the poor after the Kett rebellion: ‘we wyll not be deceived as we were at the last rysinge, for then we were promised ynough and more than ynoughe. But the more was an hawlter.’ ”

The Captain Swing period and the “bread or blood” riots, the rick-burning, machine-breaking and attacks on the clergy of the late 18^th and early 19^th centuries have also been well-documented. In fact the labourers and farmers in Suffolk were accused of collusion, as  both were hostile to the parsons who insisted on taking a tithe of the farmer’s income. The Ipswich Journal repeatedly reported on court cases resulting from allegations that labourers had sent threatening letters to their “betters.” These are just two cases that were brought to court:

In By a Flash & a Scare, John Archer quotes from examples of such letters. One, from someone called Grimwade of Polstead begins: "Sir, This is to inform you that unless your tenant, Mr. Brown of Polstead, pays his men an advance of wages... he will be visited with a blaze..." In 1844, the subject of “incendiarism” in Suffolk was debated in Parliament http://hansard.millbanksystems.com/commons/1844/jul/19/incendiarism-in-suffolk

At Rushmere Heath, near Ipswich, villagers from miles around attended meetings to discuss labourers wages in 1830.  This was amid a huge amount of unrest in Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex about wages, agricultural changes such as the introduction of threshing machines which meant that labourers were thrown out of work, and the tithe system which entitled clergymen to a substantial percentage of farmers' incomes.  The meeting at Rushmere was banned, troops were called in and three Ipswich craftsmen were prosecuted for inciting labourers to engage in "illegal assemblies."  Around the same time, “ in Ipswich the magistrates dispersed a ‘Disputing Club’ in an ale-house consisting of ‘very Inferior people’ ” [EP Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class, p. 125]

The violence of the labourers against their masters seems extraordinary today, but this was the age of the Houses of Industry, the Poor Law (which meant that if you were poor you could be forced to return to the parish of your birth), transportation to the colonies for petty crimes like poaching. There were no trade unions and no franchise for the labouring classes, in a county notorious for its rotten boroughs and corrupt politicians. Behind the images of the haywain and Flatford Mill, lay poverty and hardship, cruelty and murder. Luckily, the people of Suffolk would never put up with it.

The Academic, the Minister and the Schoolmaster: Arson in North Wales, 1936

In 1936, 174 men, most of them miners from South Wales, volunteered for the International Brigades and went to fight against Franco's fascist troops in Spain.  During the Spanish Civil War, approximately 300 people from Wales enlisted in the International Brigades and about 35 of them did not return home. This was an enormous contribution from a small country. Meanwhile, in North Wales, another – very different - battle was being fought.

On the 17th of September, 1936 a short item called “Fire at R.A.F. Camp,” appeared in The Times, which signalled the beginning of a pivotal episode in the history of Welsh Nationalism:

"A new charge of feloniously and maliciously setting fire to certain buildings, the property of the King, was preferred at Pwllhelli yesterday in the case brought against three members of the Welsh Nationalist Party, consequent on a fire at the new R.A.F. Armament Training Camp at Penrhos, near Pwllhelli.

"The defendants were committed for trial on the original charge, slightly amended, of causing malicious damage to contractors' huts and stacks of timber valued at approximately £1,000 and on the new charge under section 5 of the Malicious Damage Act, 1861. They are Professor John Saunders Lewis, of Swansea University; the Rev. Lewis Edward Valentine, Baptist minister, Llandudno; and Mr. D. J. Williams, senior master at Fishguard County School."

So why were three such respectable figures in the dock for setting fire to a few huts and who were they?

All three of the accused were ardent Welsh nationalists. Lewis and Valentine later became founder members of Plaid Cymru and leaders of the Welsh-language movement. They had attempted the arson attack because the "R.A.F. Camp" was destined to be the site of a bombing practice area, or “bombing school” on the Llŷn (Lleyn) Peninsula (Penrhyn Llŷn or Pen Llŷn) in north west Wales, near to Anglesey, in the modern county of Gwynedd.

What appeared to be most galling to Welsh people about the choice of that site was that the government in Westminster had looked at and rejected two sites in England: Abbotsbury in Dorset and Holy Island in Northumberland. Both had been rejected because they were the home of rare birds. There was no such wildlife on the Llŷn Peninsula and, as one of the defendants, D. J.  Williams, remembered in a BBC documentary Yesterday's Witness, made shortly before he died in 1970: "In the spring of 1932 there was an International Disarmament Conference under the auspices of the League of Nations held in Geneva. And at that conference it was the almost unanimous opinion of all the nations there that aerial bombardment of innocent citizens in towns and cities was too horrible a thing to be allowed to go on. ... A law-abiding, faithful nation, always loyal to the Empire in its day of need - surely this nation would oblige, and take the site of an aerodrome or bombing school within their territory? In 1935, when this project was finally decided upon, public opinion straight away became forcible against the very idea...  The whole nation stood on its feet in protest against it."

Although the proposed bombing school was unpopular, the local population was not as united as Mr. Williams seemed to think. Many people were in favour of it as a much-needed source of jobs at a time of high unemployment. It is difficult to know how closely in touch the three defendants were with local people, although the case became a cause célèbre and they received a lot of support from nationalists in Wales generally, none of them were local people. Saunders Lewis (1893-1985) was a historian, poet, dramatist, critic, and activist, one of the founders of the Welsh National Party (later Plaid Cymru). Acknowledged to have been among the most important figures in modern Welsh literature, Lewis would be nominated for a Nobel prize in 1970. Lewis Valentine (1893-1986) was a Baptist minister from Conwy, who was also a prime mover in the Welsh language movement. The son of a quarryman, his studies for the Baptist ministry had been cut short by the outbreak of the First World War. David John Williams (1885-1970) was also a leading nationalist and Welsh-language writer from Carmathenshire. He would later say that he had had the privilege of being educated at three universities: University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, Oxford and Wormwood Scrubs. He was a schoolteacher and a socialist and again a founder of Plaid Cymru.

When the then Conservative Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, refused to hear the case against the bombing school, despite huge protests, many people in Wales must have felt disenfranchised. D. J. Williams later said; “The swannery in Abbotsbury and the duckery in Northumberland had been sufficiently powerful means of desisting the English Government from going on; well, there was nothing for us to do but to take direct action. Three of us were selected to do the job, of whatever nature. ...  So we three met on Monday night, 7 September 1936 and decided to do what we thought was our duty. Namely, to set the aerodrome site on fire. It was not an act of vandalism, but a direct protest in the name of the whole Welsh Nation, in order that we could plead our case in a public court of law. ... My particular spot of setting on fire was a shed. It was a windy night. I had only one box and I used every match that I had, and I failed to get the fire going. So I had to go to my friend Valentine to borrow some more matches, but they failed."

According to the Times report, the night watchman, a disabled ex-serviceman named David Davis, came upon two of the arsonists and was assaulted by them. This does not appear in the slightly romanticised reminiscences of the BBC documentary, Yesterday’s Witness.

D. J. Williams may have failed to start his fire, but some of his colleagues succeeded. The three were arrested and taken to the nearest police station in Pwllhelli. There they handed in a letter addressed to the Chief Constable:

"We who sign this letter acknowledge a responsibility for the damage which was done to the buildings of the bombing camp this evening. Ever since the intention to build a Lleyn bombing camp was first announced we, and many other leaders of the public life of Wales, did everything we could to get the English Government to refrain from placing in Lleyn an institution which would endanger all the culture and traditions of one of the most Wells regions in Wales.

"But in spite of our pleading, in spite of the letters and protests forwarded from hundreds of religious and lay societies throughout the whole of Wales, and although thousands of the electors of Lleyn itself signed a petition imploring prevention of this atrocity, yet the English Government refused even to receive a deputation from Wales to talk over the matter.

"Lawful and peaceful methods failed to secure for Wales even common courtesy at the hands of the Government of England. Therefore, in order to compel attention to this immoral violation of the sure and natural rights of the Welsh nation, we have taken this method, the only method left to us by a Government which insults the Welsh nation."

The trial took place at the Assize Court at Caernarfon. In the Yesterday's Witness documentary, it was described vividly by Catrin Daniel:

"The scene at the court was quite extraordinary. The judge...  looked a little apprehensive, because I think the streets of Caernarvon were so crowded and the noise outside was so menacing that the judge grew more nervous as the trial wore on. There was deathly silence in the court as the three men made their defence, and when applause broke out, the judge got extremely nasty and rebuked Saunders Lewis several times for a rousing enthusiasm in the court." 

After ninety minutes the jury returned having failed to agree a verdict. A retrial was ordered, this time at the Old Bailey in London. Local people felt that this meant the defendants had no chance of winning the case.  At the Old Bailey, the defendants refused to speak in English as D. J.  Williams recalled:

"Saunders Lewis and Valentine refused to give their evidence in any language but their own, in Welsh. And that wasn't allowed, so they didn't say a word at all. But as it happened, no one of the prosecutors had heard me speak any English at all, with the result that I was allowed to speak in Welsh...  The funny part about it was that I had been English Master in the Fishguard Grammar School for fifteen years, and nobody knew apparently that I knew any English."

The trial ended with convictions and sentences of nine months. When they were released the three men were greeted with a huge audience of supporters at the Great Pavilion, Caernarfon. The bombing school opened a year later, but was found to be completely unsuitable for purpose and it was closed four years later.

Saunders Lewis later became a controversial figure. He had converted to Catholicism in 1932 (from a Calvinistic Methodist background) and resigned from Plaid Cymru in 1939, citing that he felt Wales was not ready to accept the leadership of a Catholic as his reason. His position during the Second World War was controversial as he felt that Wales should take a completely neutral position and supported the campaign for the Welsh to become conscientious objectors. He argued with the left of the Welsh nationalist movement and was seen by some as having an elitist approach. Perhaps his most controversial statement, though, was when he appeared to show admiration for Adolf Hitler – as late as 1936, the year of the arson attack, when he wrote: "At once he fulfilled his promise — a promise which was greatly mocked by the London papers months before that — to completely abolish the financial strength of the Jews in the economic life of Germany."

 Valentine returned to his ministry and Williams to his teaching, although both remained active nationalists all their lives. Despite feeling hard done by as nationalists who did not recognise the jurisdiction of English law, the three men may have been lucky to receive relatively light sentences. Arson on military premises was considered to be an extremely serious offence. (“Arson in a Royal Dockyard” was a capital offence until 1971.) Sympathy for this case will depend upon feelings for the nationalist cause. However, what is striking is that the government’s lack of willingness to engage and compromise with the protestors led to a few people taking an extreme form of action. It may not have worked as far as the Llyn Peninsula was concerned but it probably helped galvanise nationalist feeling in Wales for many years to come.

"Ireland from One or Two Neglected Points of View"

Yesterday, for the first time since I started publishing reprints of out-of-print books in 2005, I faced a dilemma about whether it was right to publish a book at all. In the end, I decided that it was, but with a kind of health warning like the ones that are found on packets of cigarettes. The book in question is called Ireland from One or Two Neglected Points of View and it was first published by Hatchards of Piccadilly in 1888, price ‘one shilling and sixpence.’

On the cover of the copy that I have, which I picked up in a box of ‘hard to sell’ books in a secondhand bookshop in Norfolk, it says that the book was written by "the Author of Hints to Country Bumpkins, etc." Written on the front cover in ink is the name of that author, H. (Henry) Strickland Constable, of Wassand Hall. Wassand is in Sigglesthorne parish, near Hornsea Mere, in the East Riding of Yorkshire.

I'm interested in Irish history but when I started to read the book I discovered that it was possibly one of the most vilely racist pieces of literature that I've ever come across - and I've read Mein Kampf (well, sort of, I read the first few chapters) and quite a few works by minor and very forgettable British fascists. This book, however, appears to have been written by someone who was completely insane. To put it briefly, it is a racist attack on the Irish, or as the author sometimes refers to them "Celts," with, unsurprisingly, a little bit of anti-Semitism thrown in. Oh, and he doesn't much like the French either. I've seen things like this before, but it's the virulence of the hatred in this book that is really shocking which is why I seriously doubt the author’s sanity.

Allowing him to be mad is a cop-out, though. Unfortunately, Henry Constable had done some "research," and is keen to demonstrate that he was not alone in his opinions. He quotes some very reputable sources, such as Thomas Carlyle ("the Celts of Connemara are white, not black; but it is not the colour of the skin that determines the savagery of the man"), the Spectator and Charles Kingsley, who says "But I was haunted by the human chimpanzees I saw along that hundred miles of horrible country. I don't believe they are our fault. I believe, on the contrary, that they are happier and better for being under our rule. But to see white chimpanzees is dreadful; if they were black, one would not feel it so much."

It feels quite painful even to copy that last statement. The “horrible landscape" by the way, is the Sligo of William Butler Yeats' poetry, of Lissadell and Innisfree. There are many more similar examples in the book and, naturally, Constable throws a chapter on Socialism in for good measure. I haven’t read the book, just skimmed through it, but it appears that it was intended mainly to be an attack on Gladstone and his policies in Ireland.

Henry Strickland Constable eventually became a Baronet. This is a description of Wassand Hall from Bulmer's Directory of Yorkshire,  1892:

 "Wassand, is a distinct manor and estate containing about 400 acres, situated two miles south-west from Hornsea. It anciently belonged to the Abbey of Meaux, and about the beginning of the sixteenth century it was in the possession of St. Mary's Abbey, York. In 1530, it was purchased by Dame Joan, widow of Sir William Constable, of Caythorpe, Knt., and is now the property of Henry Strickland Constable, Esq.

  "Wassand Hall, the seat of this gentleman, is a fine mansion in the Italian style, erected in 1813, by the Rev. Charles Constable. It stands in a well wooded park, at the west end of Hornsea mere. The lawns, pleasure grounds, and gardens are of considerable extent, and all tastefully laid out.

          "The remote ancestor of the Constables was Roaldus, Constable of Richmond. The Wassand branch are descended from William Constable, Esq., of Caythorpe, youngest son of Sir Robert Constable, Knt., of Flamborough. Henry Strickland Constable, Esq., the present owner of the estate, is the third son of the late Sir George Strickland, Bart., who in 1865, assumed the name of Cholmley, by Mary, daughter of the late Rev. Charles Constable, of Wassand. He married in 1860, Cornelia Ann, daughter of the late Colonel Dumaresq, and has besides other issue, a son and heir, Captain Frederick Charles Strickland Constable, J.P.

          "The family has held a distinguished position in the county from a very early period. From a list compiled by Mr. Hockney, it appears that between the years 1206 and 1701, the Constable family furnished 28 High Sheriffs to the county."

But to return to my problem, I decided that the book should be republished. There is still a great deal of ignorance about the level and violence of anti-Irish racism at least amongst the British upper classes. The book will mainly be of interest to academics but I think it's important for people to know what was thought about other races, however uncomfortable it is for us to read now. It is not rational or morally right, but it is was the mentality of at least some in the late nineteenth century.

So to continue my dilemma, I had to find a cover illustration for the CD on which I was republishing the book as a facsimile. I was not short of examples of appalling cartoons of Irishmen depicted as apes, or gurning monsters. If you click the link below, you’ll go to an excellent online article by Gwen Sharp, and see some mainly American examples, but it's not for the faint hearted. http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2008/10/06/negative-stereotypes-of-the-irish/

Punch magazine seem to be particularly keen on this kind of thing and there are many examples of their jollity at portraying Irish people as fools or animals. But I've decided to leave the cover illustration as a simple map of Ireland rather than reprint any of them.

No doubt Henry Constable was “100% Anglo Saxon with perhaps just a dash of Viking,” as Tony Hancock so memorably puts it in The Blood Donor, or perhaps his ancestors immigrated after the Norman Conquest, like so many of the aristocracy. No doubt the Constables had a pleasant life in their fine mansion “in the Italian style” with their pleasure gardens and lawns, as part of the local Yorkshire squirearchy and magistracy, sentencing local people for poaching and suchlike activities. We can only speculate as to how the name Constable should be pronounced.

http://www.bibliopolis.co.uk/catalog/i260.html 

'A Kind of Paradise': The Origins of the Public Library in Britain

Writers have always been keen on libraries. There is an almost religious feel to the two quotations, written centuries apart, that I have chosen to illustrate this: Marcus Tullius Cicero (d. 43BC)  wrote: "To add a library to a house is to give that house a soul" and Jorge Luis Borges (d. 1986) famously described a library as a "kind of Paradise." 

I don't remember a time when I didn't go to the library. I grew up in a house where there were only a few books, perhaps four or five. In fact, my parents called magazine "books." But they took me to the local public library when I was very small and for that I am extremely grateful. Most of us take free access to education for granted and the public library service is part of that. We are, perhaps, about to enter a time when we can no longer do so. If that is the case, we will be turning back the clock to a time when education was considered to be a privilege and not a right.

In the early 19th century, there was a heated political debate amongst writers and thinkers in Britain about the education of the poor.  Although it was believed that the labouring-classes could benefit from religious education in particular, even liberal and philanthropic writers, such as Hannah More, worried about the effects of learning on the poor. An anonymous writer in John Bull, for example wrote: "We over-educate the poor and what do they say? That they are superior to the drudgery of cotton-spinning... or other menial offices." (30 October, 1825). William Cobbett believed that Sunday Schools were to be discouraged because they made "scholars of those whose business it is to delve." (Political Register, 14 May, 1803).

There was a genuine dilemma here. Poverty and ignorance were recognized as causes of tremendous social discord during the late-18th and early-19th centuries. Labourers were rioting, arson attacks on farmers and clergymen were not infrequent, the ruling classes were concerned about consumption of alcohol amongst the poor and general standards of behaviour were thought to be in decline. Even the Black Acts, the notorious legislation which enabled magistrates to transport people to the Colonies for relatively minor crimes such as poaching and petty theft, had not deterred some people from crime. The Houses of Industry or Workhouses continued to be the last resort for paupers, but they had not provided a solution to the "problem" of the poor.

Some philanthropists began to recognise that a low level of education might be beneficial to society in general. However, even those whom we now think of as being relatively enlightened were aware of the dangers of what they saw as over-educating the working classes. Patrick Colquhoun, in an essay proposing a new system of education for the labouring people of England, published in 1806, wrote: “Utopian schemes for an extensive diffusion of knowledge would be injurious and absurd.  A right bias to their minds, and a sufficient education to enable them to preserve, and to estimate properly, the religious and moral instruction they receive, is all that is, or ought ever to be, in contemplation. To go beyond this point would be to confound the ranks of society upon which the general happiness of the lower orders, no less than those that are more elevated, depends; since by indiscriminate education those destined for laborious occupations would become discontented and unhappy..."

By the mid-19th century, the argument for a basic general education had largely been won. In 1849, William Ewart MP, introduced a Public Libraries Act, but there was considerable hostility, particularly from the Conservative Party, who felt that ratepayers should not have to pay for a service that would mainly be used by the working classes. The Public Libraries Act became law in 1850. William Ewart wanted all boroughs to have the power to finance public libraries, but the legislation only applied to boroughs with populations of over 10,000. Borough Councils also had to obtain the consent of two-thirds of local ratepayers, no more than a halfpenny in the pound could be levied and the money raised could not be used to purchase books.

Despite this, Ewart’s Act was the beginning of a golden age of public education with the library service as the jewel in its crown. At the beginning of the 21^st century there were over 3500 public libraries in England, providing all kinds of services, from local studies to Baby Bounce & Rhyme groups. The Museums, Libraries & Archives Council (itself to be abolished by Culture Minister, Jeremy Hunt) reported in 2010 that “satisfaction among [public library] service users is high with 92% of respondents to the CIPFA Public Library Users Survey (PLUS) saying that overall their library was 'good' or 'very good'.” [http://www.mla.gov.uk/what/research/sector_statistics]

Things look rather bleak for public libraries in England at the moment. One wonders, in the face of such evidence of success and ‘consumer satisfaction,’ what exactly the government’s rationale for the closure of public libraries is. It would be absurd, wouldn't it, to suggest that there are people in our government who are so cynical as to believe that a good education is unnecessary for McJobs and supermarket shelf-stacking?

William Ewart was a Liberal MP. It would be a profound betrayal of its roots if that party (albeit in coalition with the Tories) were to preside over the beginning of the end of the public library service.

William Cobbett defends the labourers of Little Massingham, Norfolk, 1823

Whilst transcribing Rev. Ronald McLeod's parish history Massingham Parva Past & Present (1882), I came across some information about social unrest amongst the labourers of the parish in 1823. Being partial, Rev. McLeod regarded the labourers as little more than criminals, stirred up by outside agitators. He concludes that "the time of disaffection was the moment of prosperity for the working class - the year in which they were in a position to purchase more meat and comforts than in any other." Another words, they'd never had it so good.

There was more to it than that, though. Enough for William Cobbett to come to the defence of the labourers of Little Massingham in his inimitable style:

From Cobbett's Weekly Political Register, 5th June 1824:

"To Parson Brereton,

of Little Massingham, in the County of Norfolk.

"On his pamphlet, which contains, like the book of Parson Malthus, an attack upon the labourers, who are paupers only because they are oppressed with taxes.

"Parson,

"Your book, or pamphlet, is no more than a sort of hash of a part of the disgusting, bloody-and-raw and half-cooked mess of your brother Parson, Malthus.  Mr. Copeland has given you a complete answer; and I should not have noticed your book, had it not afforded me a fair opportunity to give a blow to a Parson; to one of that tribe, from whom I have received so many blows, and whom the whole nation begins now to see in their true light.

"Parson, your object is to prevent parish relief being given. This is your object. You and the rest of the parsons have been pushed a good deal by the rating of your tithes! This has set your wits to work; and those wits seldom travel out of the direct path of your interests. The taxes, necessary for the purposes of the parsons, have robbed, and do rob, the labourers so much, that they must get from the parish, or starve. You dare not push them to the latter.  You would not like open rebellion. Therefore, you hate the labourers. You cannot tell why; but you hate them. I will tell you why: they cause deductions from the amount of your tithes. That is the true and only cause of your hatred towards them. Your scheme would make them half-naked, like the Irish.  You forget, but you must have them shut up in their houses from sunset to sunrise, and, besides this, have a bayonet and a red coat ready at every corner of the street! You are puzzled, Parson; but, you will be a great deal more than puzzled by-and-by. You smell danger; but, I am convinced, that you have not the scent so strong as you ought to have it.

"Parson, why ought not poor labourers to be relieved? A very large sum has been voted, partly out of the taxes laid on the labourers, to relieve the poor clergy; and why should not something be given to the poor labourers?  You talk of idle labourers. Are they more idle, Parson, than non-resident parsons are?  You, Parson, have two livings yourself, I fancy, and can you take care of the souls of the people in both these parishes?

"But, Parson, I have not time now to deal with you in a proper manner.  I promise to do it shortly. I will take the side of the labourers; and if I do not place the parsons in a proper light, may I have to endure their blessings! I will show a little more plainly than you have, what it is that makes paupers: I will show, as clearly as day-light, that it is the church parsons, and the church parsons only, that have been the cause of the paupers."

Capel Lofft: A Suffolk Humanitarian

I have to admit that the subject I'm writing about today is a hero of mine. I have a print of a portrait of Capel Lofft (1751-1824) looking over me as I write. It is a portrait of a young man dressed in barrister's robes and he looks what I imagine he was: kind, intelligent and idealistic. Lofft was from a wealthy Suffolk family and, at one time, was the owner of both Stanton Hall and Troston Hall. Unlike many East Anglian landowning families, however, there was also a strong intellectual background. His uncle, Edward Capell, is credited as being the scholar who discovered one of Shakespeare's 'lost' plays, Edward III.

Capel Lofft could have spent his life as a privileged dilettante. He was educated at Eton & Cambridge and mixed with an artistic and literary crowd. He certainly wrote a great deal of fairly bad poetry - something which won him the lifelong emnity of Charles Lamb, who was miffed because Lofft published his dodgy odes under the soubriquet "C.L."

But Capel Lofft was a man with ideals and a conscience. The causes he chose to take up are relevant today: slavery, hunting, the death penalty and the restriction of civil liberties. He was closely involved, as a young barrister with "Somersett's Case," in 1772, which ended in a legal ruling that was the beginning of the end of slavery in England with Lord Mansfield's ruling that “the state of slavery is of such a nature, that it is incapable of being introduced on any reasons, moral or political…. It is so odious, that nothing can be suffered to support it..."

In middle age, Lofft became a magistrate in Suffolk. Years later, John Glyde wrote in The Suffolk Garland (1866): “As a Magistrate, the well-known Mr. Capel Lofft was indefatigable in the performance of his duties,” but somehow he became involved in a case which led to his dismissal from the Suffolk bench. In October 1799, a 22-year-old serving woman, Sarah Lloyd from Hadleigh, let her boyfriend, Joseph Clark, into the house of her employer. Property was stolen and a fire was started, although no serious damage was done. Lloyd and Clark were arrested and charged. Sarah Lloyd was found guilty of stealing goods to the value of forty pounds and sentenced to death. Clark was acquitted. Sarah Lloyd may not have been of average intelligence. She is described in contemporay reports as “deluded” or simple and child-like. Horrified at the death sentence, Lofft took up her case. He managed to persuade William Pearson, the Sheriff of Ipswich, to grant a stay of execution and appealed to the Home Secretary, the Duke of Portland, for a reprieve. The Times declared that Lloyd’s crime was of “unequalled… atrociousness” and the Duke of Portland refused the petition. Lofft accompanied Sarah Lloyd to the scaffold in Bury St. Edmunds. It was raining and he gave her an umbrella and helped her to hold it over her head. Lofft was distraught after the execution had taken place, apparently making frantic attempts to revive her. Sir Nash Grose, the judge in her original trial was furious, describing Lofft’s conduct as “improper interference.” This, along with the fact that he had made a speech that explicitly attacked the Tory government, led to his being struck off the magistrate’s list.

Capel Lofft's life didn't end very happily. He was mocked and derided for many of his views, which would be regarded as quite reasonable today. He ended his life in self-imposed exile in Italy. He died at Montcalieri, near Turin, in 1824 and was buried in the Protestant church of St. Germain, in Piedmont. Sarah Lloyd's memorial is closer to home and can be seen in the old churchyard in Bury.