Challenged by Inanimate Objects and a little about Selling Books

Jun13 by thehistoryinterpreter

They say things come in threes and this week I have been challenged by three inanimate objects. First to turn up its toes was the washing machine. This actually occurred before I went away but this was the first chance to tackle the problem. Turn it on and not a whimper, not a light, nothing. I am quite handy in my own way, so I try fuse changing, a different plug socket, putting a different appliance in that socket, all seems fine but still no response from the machine. The next steps required dragging the machine out; although I would normally tackle this, my back was twinging so I summoned assistance. Randomly, by the time he arrived the ‘dead’ machine had woken up and every available light was flashing wildly but not a button had any effect. The only way to stop the light-show was to unplug it. We de-fuzzed the thingy, we checked the pipe wasn’t blocked, we consulted You-tube, we chatted to ‘Toby’ online. At Toby’s suggestion, we held down buttons for 30 seconds to reset it – zilch. Today the ‘not-actually-going-to-repair-it’ man arrived and pronounced the condition terminal. I have already done one load of washing by hand and the weather isn’t conducive to getting non-spun washing dry, so if I appear in strange garb you will know why.

Next, the car. I arrive back from THE Genealogy Show with the caravan and go to drive my own car home from where the caravan lives and where the car has been parked whilst I have been away. I press the button to open the door – no response. I try the key. The door unlocks and then instantly relocks. The only way I can gain entry is to open the passenger door using the key and then climb across. This isn’t exactly easy, as it is a very small car. I drive home with the window open, just in case none of the doors open when I arrive. To add to this problem, I normally park my car up a drive, which means I need to put the passenger door hard against a hedge. This clearly isn’t an option when the passenger door is the only way in and out. A garage agrees to take a look. I have four days to get a very long ‘to-do’ list done, or it won’t be done until mid-July. I can ill-afford time to go to the garage half an hour away but needs must. Unfortunately, an accident has closed the main road. Even more unfortunately, the alternative route involves two sets of roadworks. It takes 1½ hours to drive 12 miles. The repair is going to take longer than I have, so it is home via a tortuous route, which is marginally quicker than the advised diversion and then repeat in reverse three hours later to collect the car, which is (sort of) fixable – ‘it may not last long you probably need a new something or other’.

I am due to spend a day selling books. At the NEC my gadget for taking card payments let me down. I need this to work. Again I try the online chat; this one is ‘Sabina’. Sabina suggests I ring what is probably a ridiculously expensive premium rate number. Half an hour later a very patient ‘Andrew’ has talked me through what is required. He must be dining out on our conversation along the lines of , ‘you will not believe this thick woman I had on the line today….’ The process involved the use of a mobile phone. As you know, mobile phones and I are not friends. Even if we were before we certainly aren’t now. ‘Is Bluetooth on?’ asks Andrew. Now I am not a complete dinosaur, I know what Bluetooth is, turning it on is another matter. ‘Ah, the app has been updated’, says Andrew. ‘Just delete it and re-install it.’ ‘Just’ is a funny old word isn’t it? It seems ‘Just’ can take a very long time and it doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the end of the adventure. What followed ‘Just’ necessitated me punching in a sequence of eight numbers very quickly; not quickly enough it seems. ‘Faster,’ urges Andrew as I make my n^th attempt. Finally, it is accomplished.

Next day and I am ensconced in the Visitors’ Centre in Clovelly, hoping to persuade attendees at the Charles Kingsley anniversary commemorations to part with money in return for one of my books. I am stationed by a stand that sells inspirational ‘soothing’ CDs. I quickly work out that I can change the CD, so I can lose the whale music. The bad news is that virtually every track involves the sound of running water, with the inevitable effect. I am also forced to try to avoid looking at an apostrophic howler all day. I do suppress the urge to go and correct the notice! Nonetheless it is an enjoyable day, chatting to visitors and an unbelievable number of dogs and even selling some books as well.

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Day 16 #bfotc sources

Dec16 by thehistoryinterpreter

Day sixteen of the ‘advent calendar’ focusing on some of the historical/genealogical sources that I used in the writing of Barefoot on the Cobbles.

Option 2 - Copy When a novel is firmly set in a recognisable geographical location, it is important to exploit the resources of the experts. By using Clovelly as the backdrop for much of the book, I was placing my characters in an iconic village that, is well-known far beyond the immediate area. I was fortunate to be able to have access to the expertise and archive material of Clovelly Archive and History Group. Their Facebook group answered an eclectic range of queries from me. It was a real benefit to be able to ask such things as ‘Who was in charge of the post office?’ and get an almost instant response. I was able to see one of the paper discs, with its political slogan, that had been left on the lawns of Clovelly Court by the militant suffragettes. I was granted permission to use one of the archive’s evocative photographs of Daisy, barefoot on the cobbles, on my cover.

I would encourage all those who are trying to recreate a real place in a past era to approach local history groups and archives. They will be your harshest critics if you get it wrong but will be generous with their time and knowledge in order to help you to get it right.

More information about Barefoot on the Cobbles can be found here. Copies are available at various events and at all my presentations. You can order from Blue Poppy Publishing or directly from me. Kindle editions are available for those in the UK, USA, Australasia and Canada.

#100daysofbfotc Day 100: Polly

Nov16 by thehistoryinterpreter

02 Mary Elizabeth and Albert Braund The final day has to belong to Polly, whose anguish reverberates throughout Barefoot on the Cobbles. She wasn’t intended to be the main character but I think most readers will identify her as such. It was meant to be Daisy’s story. In fact, before the novel got a title, I referred to it as ‘Daisy’. Daisy’s role however is reactive; it is Polly who plays a significant part in driving the narrative. Without doubt, Polly is the character with whom I found it easiest to identify. I understood her fears, her hopes and her despair. She is not a typical ‘heroine’; for most of the book she is elderly, prickly, diffident and not particularly sociable. William Golding wrote, in Free Fall ‘‘My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder,’ and this sums up Polly. She is a victim of her life experiences, as indeed are we all. I am fascinated by human behaviour and what makes individuals act in a particular manner, especially if their actions are those that others find strange. Writing the novel gave me the opportunity to explore and attempt to explain, Polly’s motivations and those of the people she encountered.

Polly Wakely was born on 1 April 1872, in Peppercombe Valley, the daughter of a ship’s carpenter. The 1891 census shows that she was in service at Chudleigh Villas, East-the-Water, Bideford. In 1893, she married Albert and as the novel shows, they set up home in Clovelly and had eight children. Barefoot on the Cobbles is Polly’s story, I hope I have done her justice.

There is no quotation from the novel today because tomorrow you can read it in its entirity for yourselves. More information about the novel can be found here. Copies will be available at various events in the weeks following the launch or can be pre-ordered from Blue Poppy Publishing or the author. Kindle editions can be pre-ordered for the UK and also on Amazon.com.

#100daysofbfotc Day 99: Lily

Nov15 by thehistoryinterpreter

Lily on the left, with her sister Rosie

Lily, the seventh of Polly and Alb’s eight children, is another character who some might feel could have been dispensed with. She remains, not just because I did not want a large gap in the run of children, nor because I wanted to make sure that all eight children were remembered. Lily has a particular role to play, one which I don’t want to mention, in case it spoils the book. Some readers may not even spot my use of her in this way but to me, she was a vital to a certain section of Barefoot on the Cobbles.

Lily was born in Clovelly on 3 February 1911, exactly two years before her younger sister Rosie. I don’t want to say too much about her history but she spent her life in Clovelly, married and had one child.

‘ ‘Me and Lily, we’re going to the treat up at the Court tomorrow,’ Rosie said. ‘There’s to be tea and decorations and a big tree and presents and all.’ ‘

Barefoot on the Cobbles will be published on 17 November 2018. More information about the novel can be found here. Copies will be available at various events in the weeks following the launch or can be pre-ordered from Blue Poppy Publishing or the author. Kindle editions can be pre-ordered for the UK and also on Amazon.com.

#100daysofbfotc Day 98: Daisy

Nov14 by thehistoryinterpreter

0U9A3415 If you have been following these posts since they began in August you may remember that Daisy has already featured in a post, on what would have been her birthday. Today is the 100^th anniversary of her death. Today has to be her post. She is a young woman without descendants, another generation and she may have been forgotten. I hope that, through Barefoot on the Cobbles I have helped to preserve her memory.

“Three days later, as the lingering stars were fading in the angry pink dawn, Daisy, alone in the borrowed bed, loosened her final, fragile grip on life.”

#100daysofbfotc Day 97: Frank Badcock

Nov13 by thehistoryinterpreter

Frank Badcock on the left

Frank Badcock’s story is told in the penultimate chapter of Barefoot on the Cobbles. This tragic episode serves to underline the influence of the sea on coastal communities and on the lives of the characters in the novel. The events of New Year’s Day 1919 are still retold in Clovelly.

Frank was born into a Clovelly fishing family in 1884. His parents were Robert and Annie Salome Badcock née Jewell and Frank grew up in a cottage on the quay. Like his father, Frank spent his working life on the sea. In 1905, he married local girl Merelda Dunn and they brought up three sons in their North Hill cottage. When the First World War broke out, Frank served on HMS Albion and was involved in the disastrous Dardanelles campaign in 1915. As the war drew to a close, Frank was in the Royal Naval Reserve, as a gunner on a merchantman.

‘ ‘Oh, God,’ he groaned, the rare blasphemy a sign of his anguish. ‘’Tis the Annie Salome, right proud of that boat Frank be. Named for his mother it were. Why the hell baint they back. They will never get into harbour now.’ ’

#100daysofbfotc Day 95: Abraham Tuke

Nov11 by thehistoryinterpreter

Poppies On the centenary of the armistice it is fitting that today’s post should belong to one of the fallen. Chapter 8 of Barefoot on the Cobbles is set on the western front. In order to reflect the early years of the twentieth century, the novel needed to include an episode that was devoted to the experiences of a combatant. The choice of Abraham, from amongst the men that Clovelly lost, was largely a random one and his life story was not typical. Incidentally, Abraham was not his first given name but in common with several other characters, his name needed to be changed to avoid confusion.

I anticipated that this would be the most difficult chapter for me to write, as I am not a young male, nor have I ever been in a combat zone. The western front was the only location in the novel that I was not able to explore in person. I immersed myself in the war diaries of Abraham’s battalion and read personal memoirs and dairies about the little-known battle in which he lost his life. I discovered that, although the Battle of Fromelles is not a household name in the UK, it is in Australia; the ANZAC troops experiences appalling losses in this campaign. I was also helped by the archivist at Abraham’s school, who responded swiftly and in detail to my enquiries, allowing me to build up a much fuller impression of Abraham’s character.

Although the chapter would not stand up to scrutiny by a military historian, I reasoned that one soldier would not have an impression of the overall tactics, so, if the account seems a little confused, that is probably an accurate reflection of a single soldier’s experiences. In the end, this is the chapter that pleases me the most.

From the Archive of King’s College, Taunton

Abraham Tuke was born in Clovelly in 1894 and was baptised in the church that stood adjacent to his home. His father, Harry, was the Court’s head gardener and the family lived at Gardener’s Cottage, on the edge of the walled garden. Abraham was an only child and his childhood was very different to that of most of his peers. Although he attended Clovelly School as a young boy, he won a scholarship to the prestigious King’s College in Taunton. It must have been difficult to cope with this dislocation and I suspect that Abraham may not have fitted well into either of his worlds. Whilst at King’s, Abraham became Senior Prefect and a Corporal in the Officers’ Training Corps. He was in the debating society and appeared in school productions. He did well academically, winning prizes for History, Religious Instruction and Latin. His ambition was to become a teacher and he qualified at St. Luke’s College, where he played rugby and became editor of the college magazine. The latter made me think that he would have written poetry, so I read volumes of World War 1 poetry, including the efforts of less-known and probably less accomplished poets. In this way, Abraham was able to write a poem, which appears in the book. I consoled myself, as I write it on his behalf, with the fact that he didn’t have to be a very good poet!

Following a role in the Territorials, Abraham joined the 2^nd/4^th (City of Bristol) Battalion of the Gloucestershire Regiment rising to the rank of Sergeant. He perished on 19 July 1916.

‘Barbed wire coiled across the long grass, self-seeded crops from happier years dared to grow and poppies painted the fields. Abandoned and broken, ploughs rusted where they lay. Then there were the agonising reminders of war. The wooden crosses, roughly hewn, inscribed only with a date; the names of the soldiers who fell on that spot forever forgotten.’

#100daysofbfotc Day 94: Hon. Arthur Asquith

Nov10 by thehistoryinterpreter

The Asquith family were frequent visitors to Clovelly Court in the early years of the twentieth century and we meet them in chapter 5 of Barefoot on the Cobbles in this context. When Daisy moved to Torquay, I felt that, along with the majority of the population at this time, she needed to visit the cinema. Apart from the main feature and the ‘short’, there would have been a Pathe newsreel. I turned YouTube to see what would have been screened during the week of Daisy’s visit. In one of those amazing twists of fate, it turned out that Arthur Asquith’s marriage to the Honourable Betty Manners, heir to Clovelly Court, was being featured. It was one of those incidents that might read as a contrivance but like most of the other minor details in the novel, this really was true.

The Honourable Arthur Melland Asquith, son of the Prime Minister, was born in 1883. He went to Oxford University and then worked overseas. He had a distinguished career in the First World War, receiving the DSO on three occasions. Arthur Asquith had four daughters and died in 1939.

‘ ‘I know her,’ Daisy squeaked, elbowing Winnie violently, ‘That’s the Honourable Betty Manners. I knew she was going to marry Mr Asquith’s son but I never thought to see her on the screen down here in Torquay.’

The short film showed crowds lining the street, as the Prime Minister’s son, resplendent in his army uniform, accompanied his bride. Daisy’s two worlds collided, leaving her drained and a little homesick.’

#100daysofbfotc Day 87: Clovelly Reading Rooms

Nov3 by thehistoryinterpreter

Clovelly’s Reading Rooms feature in Barefoot on the Cobbles as the location for the initial coroner’s inquest. Although we have no evidence for where the actual inquest took place, several inquests were held in the Reading Rooms at this time.

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as compulsory education increased literacy rates, many parishes established Reading Rooms. There were often sponsored or supported by local landowners and the Hamlyns of Clovelly Court were benefactors of Clovelly’s Reading Rooms. The rooms were certainly open by 1884, when a traveller recorded their existence. They gave those who might find the cost of newspapers and books prohibitively expensive an opportunity for self-improvement. The rooms also provided a quiet respite in which to read; a notable contrast to many of the crowded homes of the time. Newspaper reports suggest that various fund-raising events, in aid of the maintenance of the Reading Rooms, were held. The rooms were later used as a bank and doctor’s surgery. They are now a private dwelling.

‘Hesitantly, she walked down the wide, mossy steps to the door of the Reading Rooms. The last of the year’s reddened leaves still clung to the Virginia Creeper that crawled round the windows of the long, low building.’

#100daysofbfotc Day 85: Mariners’ Union

Nov1 by thehistoryinterpreter

Mariners' Union The Mariners’ Union was a Friendly Society, formed in Clovelly on 19 November 1792. Initially, they met once a month in the New Inn but later their club room was at the Red Lion, on the quay. A copy of the original articles of the society, together with the names of the first members, are held at the North Devon Record Office and have been transcribed here. Many of the surnames on the list are also found in Barefoot on the Cobbles. Whereas many members of the Rechabites were Methodists, the Mariners’ Union tended to attract the Anglicans, as they were not adverse to alcohol.

‘At that point, The Mariners’ Union parade, coming up from the quay, reached the New Inn. Billy hoisted the flag aloft and the Rechabites fell in behind, swelling the procession to nearly one hundred men.’

The History Interpreter – Janet Few

Presenting and Preserving the Past

Tag Archives: Clovelly