A Beech Staggerwing arrives at Leeds Bradford airport

THIS AIRCRAFT ARRIVED AT YORKSHIRE LIGHT AIRCRAFT at Leeds/Bradford Airport in the Spring of 1977 taking many months to replace the fabric and complete its Certificate of Airworthiness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fastest Biplane In The West

By CLIFF BARNETT

A RETRACTABLE BIPLANE w h i c h c a n top 200 m.p.h. is rare indeed, and when it has back-stagger and a radial engine it can only belong to one species—the Beech 17. Known since long ago as the Staggerwing, it is almost extinct in Europe, and the only known airworthy example is now on the UK register as G-BDGK..

The Beech 17 held the distinction in 1932 of being Walter Beech’s first production aircraft, and turned out to be a remarkable aeroplane. It first appeared with a fixed, spatted undercarriage, and outperformed some contemporary fighters. It was developed through the thirties with various engines, ranging from a 225 h.p. Jacobs to a 710 h.p. Wright Cyclone, and eventually saw war service on appear to be four ailerons, but closer inspection reveals that the lower two are electrically operated flaps.

The fabric on this beefy wood and steel-tube airframe has a beautiful gloss finish, matching the gleaming spinner, propeller and pushrod covers —obviously polished with care by their owner. Underneath is the cavernous opening of the wheelwells, where retraction chains, control cables, fuel lines, brake cylinders and wiring are among the many items on view.

Philip Wolf was already on board and, opening the limousine-sized door on the port side, I clambered in to join him. The floor slopes steeply upwards Rapide-fashion, and the rear bench seat looks wide enough for three. I nearly scalped myself on the roof-suspended compass before sliding into the empty soft-leather bucket an organ—rather awkward at first.

Starting tends to be a two-man task. One works the fuel wobble pump while the other primes. With a couple of coughs the Pratt & Whitney turned itself into life, sending out that characteristic radial burble. Outside, the Stampe was waddling past and we followed it. Considering the wide expanse of engine in front, the view either side was very reasonable, and it was necessary to swing the nose only to see directly in front. The long-coil mainwheel springs produced a soft, gently pitching ride over the grass.

Checks at the holding point included a careful glance that the oil temperature was at least 140°F, and exercising the big Hamilton Standard propeller. Satisfied, we turned into wind, locked the castoring tailwheel a world of difference apart. The Staggerwing was surprisingly easy to fly. It was relaxingly stable, yet could be rolled into a steep turn with little effort on ailerons and elevators. The ailerons were obviously efficient and allowed a balanced turn with hardly any rudder pressure. I had heard of the gentlemanly stalling habits, and ‘GK was true to form.

At just under 60 m.p.h. the nose fell gently as the lower wing stalled, but the ailerons remained effective—the upper wing was apparently still unstalled. With the e.g. below the unstalled wing, there must be a good measure of pendulous stability.

We flew back to Redhill at a speed more typical of the Staggerwing. With 25 in. and 1,900 r.p.m. we droned along at 170 m.p.h. IAS, but the slow-revving sounds from up front gave the impression that we were flying a lot slower. Maximum cruise at altitude is over 200 m.p.h. but there is a drawback: even at our moderate speed the old bird was gulping some 20gal/hr. Sitting almost ahead of the upper wings gave surprisingly good visibility, and those massive struts splitting the cockpit area, combined with so much airframe below and around, gave a feeling of great security and strength. Looking back into the capacious cabin, I could well believe those stories of Staggerwings carrying nine people and operating way above the gross weight of 4,250 lb.

Throttled back to descend into the circuit, the Staggerwing took a long time to slow down. So clean is it that the flight manual actually recommends easing back and climbing 500ft as the first action in the event of an engine failure in the cruise. Downwind at 100 m.p.h. the big undercarriage lever went down and a prolonged, mechanical rattle began from underneath—our rear-seat passenger leaned forward to enquire urgently about the health of the engine. The noises finally halted with a clunk, and the single green light signalled the reappearance of all three wheels (yes, even the tailwheel retracts).

We idled down the base leg at 80 m.p.h., selecting some flap with the switch—just like a modern aeroplane except that with no flap indicator you have to judge it by looking back at the trailing edge. Looking along the top plane made it easy to pick up the runway round the turn, and we rolled out with the speed gradually reducing to 75 m.p.h. over the hedge. The big radial rose to block the view on the round-out, and then the yoke came back and back, the three wheels groping for the ground together in true taildragger style. We touched once and stayed down for a short, pitching run—feet working fairly hard to keep straight.

After parking outside the hangar we could not avoid noticing that the Pratt & Whitney had characteristically spat out some oil streaks over the polished covers and cowling. It wouldhave been sacrilegious to leave them on this immaculate aeroplane and we wiped them off before pushing ‘GK inside to join its Tiger Club stablemates, glad that there were others around to help. The Staggerwing may be graceful in the air, but it is an unwieldy beast to push on the ground.

While spares for the ubiquitous Pratt & Whitney are still plentiful, the airframe poses a problem following the near-extinction of the Staggerwing in Europe. Fortunately, America still has the Staggerwing Club, which circulates some parts. Hopefully, Philip Wolf will manage to take this magnificent old aeroplane into European skies for many years to come.

Article courtesy Flight International http://www.flightglobal.com/

Supermarine Spitfire – Camouflage and Markings

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DURING 1936 British fighter aircraft were still adorned in the gay, heraldic paint schemes that typified the years between the end of the 1914-18 war and the appearance of the new types of combat aircraft ordered under the Expansion Scheme for modernising the Royal Air Force’s equipment. The year 1936 was proved to be the last before the new types in their newly-adopted camouflage finish began to be seen in ever-increasing numbers throughout the country.

On 5th March of that year, the Supermarine Spitfire, K5054, made its first flight from Eastleigh Aerodrome, near Southampton. Unlike its Aluminium (silver) painted contemporary prototype, the Hawker Hurricane, the new Supermarine monoplane was painted overall in a high-gloss grey finish. Although difficult to confirm it is likely, in view of the company’s long association with flying boats and seaplanes, that the paint used was standard seaplane hull grey, with an additional coat of high-gloss varnish. The Red, White and Blue fuselage roundel, known as Type A, was of the standard, pre-war fighter diameter of 26in., but it was outlined in white. The 8in. fuselage and 6in. rudder serial numbers were painted in Night (black) and also outlined in White. The 50in. upper and lower Type A wing roundels were not, however, outlined in white.

With the Expansion Scheme came the decision to adopt a disruptive camouflage scheme on the upper surfaces of operational aircraft, consisting of two colours known as Dark Green and Dark Earth. For fighters a suggested pattern guide was issued by the Air Ministry in Air Publication 970, to which most small fighter aircraft conformed. Two camouflage schemes known as A and B were to be painted on alternate aeroplanes on the production line. The scheme was the mirror image of the ‘A’ scheme.

Often the first aeroplane of a particular batch had the A scheme pattern, but this was not always the case. Thus the first Spitfire off the production line at Supermarine’s Works, K9787, had A scheme camouflage, and the second B scheme.

When camouflage was introduced on fighter aircraft, only the upper surfaces were affected by the change. The under surfaces remained, unaltered, in the standard Aluminium (silver) finish, with Red, White and Blue Type A roundels and black serial numbers. In fact, the application of the new finish of Dark Green and Dark Earth can be regarded as being purely to make fighter aircraft less conspicuous when on their aerodromes, although a concession to peace-time requirements was the introduction of an additional yellow ring around the standard roundel to make the national markings more visible. This type of roundel was known as the Type A.1, and was applied initially to both upper wings and fuselage.

When K9787, the first production Spitfire Mk. I, made its first flight on 14th May, 1938, it was painted in the new camouflage scheme on all upper surfaces, and Aluminium, overall underneath. The standard fuselage roundel used on fighters during the inter-war period was 25in. in diameter, and was composed of five ring widths of 5in. The introduction of the additional outer ring of yellow, again of 5in. width, resulted in the new type A.I. fuselage roundel being 35in. in diameter, and this was the size of the fuselage roundel used on early production Spitfires. The upper wing roundel, also a Type A.1, applied to the Spitfire was made up of seven ring widths of 8in. each — the total diameter being 56in. The underwing roundel was a standard Type A of 50m. diameter, made up of five 10in. ring widths. Underwing serial numbers of one foot height were used, the small size being dictated by the lack of space between roundel and the wheel well. Serial numbers of 8in. in height were painted on the fuselage in Night (black) and 6in. high serials appeared on the rudder.

Spitfire Mk.1s first entered service with No. 19(F) Squadron on 4th August, 1938, about a month before the Munich Crisis threatened Europe with war.

The first Spitfire to be delivered was K9789, and it was painted in the ‘A’ scheme pattern. During August and September more Spitfires were delivered to No. 19 Squadron, and at the opening of Cambridge Airport on 8th October several of the Squadron’s aircraft attended the display there wearing the number ’19’ on their fins. The colour of this numeral has been quoted as being White, Red or Yellow, and all are probably correct. K9797 certainly had the numeral painted in Red—it was possibly part of ‘A’ Flight—and was painted in ‘A’ scheme camouflage.

K9795 (‘A’ scheme camouflage) appears from photographs to have had the number’19’in white, and may possibly have been the Squadron Commander’s aircraft. Other reports of the ’19’ being painted in yellow may refer to ‘B’ Flight aircraft, although there is no mention of Blue being used, Blue being the ‘C’ Flight colour.

As Yellow was commonly used for marking the Squadron number and machine letter on Service aircraft during the early days of the introduction of camouflage finish, it may have been the original intention to mark all the Squadrons’ Spitfires with a Yellow ’19’ on the fin, but this changed to the use of the Flight colour. In the event, these early markings remained for only a brief period, possibly too brief for ‘C’ Flight to have their aircraft marked with a Blue ’19’, before new, sombre markings replaced those existing.

 

 

 

 

During the Munich Crisis of September 1938, the closeness of war had brought about a hurried change of markings. In order to make aircraft of the Royal Air Force less conspicuous on the ground, aircraft of all types, and sizes, received a hurried application of the camouflage finish which had hitherto adorned only the new types entering Squadron service. Although Reserve aircraft were sometimes left in their original paint scheme, Dark Green and Dark Earth camouflage was generally applied to many operational aircraft, and the gaiety of the inter-war period markings largely disappeared from the Royal Air Force until the years following the return of peace.

The new, sombre colour schemes were intended to make operational aircraft harder to sight, especially when parked on aerodromes during periods of servicing and re-arming. Being short in number it was imperative that the risk of aircraft being attacked and destroyed on the ground should be minimised, and it was standard practice for the new markings to be applied to the upper surfaces.

The Munich Crisis period produced many anomalies in markings, for time was of the essence. Some of the new types already in service had their roundels changed to Red and Blue Type B. Many of the older biplane types received camouflage finish for the first time.

Although the Crisis passed without a declaration of war, it was obvious that it was only a matter of time before hostilities would begin. The sombre markings initiated during the September crisis needed rationalising, and in order to produce a standard camouflage finish throughout the Royal Air Force, Air Ministry Order A.154/39, amended by A.298/39, and dated 27th April, was issued. It applied to all units of the R.A.F. The upper surface finish of all aircraft was to be Dark Green and Dark Earth, with the following markings as laid down by the order: On both sides of the fuselage and on the upper wing surfaces, Type B roundels, the lower surface of wings of all types, except fighters, to have Type A roundels

Two code letters indicating the Squadron number were painted either forward or aft of the National markings on both sides of the fuselage. One letter indicating the individual aircraft was painted on the opposite side of the roundel to the Squadron code letters on both sides of the fuselage. These letters were to be painted in Grey, to be 48in. high and of strokes 6in. wide.

Smaller letters were permissible only if the space was insufficient. It is interesting to note that contrary to reports of widely differing shades of Grey used for codes, the paint used was standard issue under stores reference 33B/157. Any variation in shade would only have been caused by insufficient stirring of the paint.

 

 

A rare photograph of the 15 in. diameter Type B fuselage roundel painted on a Spitfire Mk. 1. Unfortunately the serial number painted on the fin, is too small to be discernible.

The under surfaces of fighters were to be painted in Night (black) and White. The official order for painting these markings was that ‘the lower surface of the starboard plane and half the under-surface of the fuselage is to be painted White. The corresponding port side is to be painted Black’. This directive was open to misinterpretation, as no mention was made of tailplane and elevator colouring. Although there may have been some anomalies, it was generally understood to mean ‘Black and White’ equally divided down the aircraft centre line.

The instructions for the serial numbers were that they should be painted ‘underneath the lower planes and at the rear end of the fuselage’. This again was open to individual interpretation and some aircraft appeared with underwing serial numbers. But as a general rule fighters at this period, either carried them on the rear fuselage, or had them painted out.

Squadron badges were still permitted to be painted on aircraft, with the proviso that they must be removable at short notice.

Although 48in. code and machine letters were painted on some fighters, it appears that Spitfires never used this size due to the slender contours of the fuselage.

Red and Blue Roundel

When No. 19 Squadron became fully operational a Press Day was arranged on 4th May, 1939, and on this occasion all the Spitfires had been repainted in the new markings. As applied to the Spitfire the existing Dark Green and Dark Earth A and B scheme camouflage was retained, but all the existing upper surface roundels were replaced by the Type B form. Apparently, in order to ease the task of replacing the existing Type A.1 roundels, the Blue ring was retained and used as a marker.

The Red centre spot was enlarged to two-fifths of the Blue ring diameter, and the rest of the roundel filled in with additional Blue. On the fuselage the total Blue diameter was 25in., the Red centre spot was increased to 10in., and the remainder of the existing Wing ring was over-painted with Blue. The Yellow outer ring was painted out with appropriate Dark Green or Dark Earth paint to continue the existing pattern.

The wing roundel size was based on the Blue maximum diameter of 40in., with the centre Red Spot extended to 16 in. dia., and the rest filled in with Blue. Again, the Yellow outer ring was painted out with the normal camouflage colours.

Grey Squadron code and machine letters, approximately 36m. high, were painted on the fuselages of No. 19(F) Squadron’s Spitfires. The number ’19’ on the fin was replaced by the code letters WZ, painted forward of the roundel on the port (left hand) side and aft on the starboard (right hand) side. Machine letters were not painted on all the aircraft at this time, but when they were their position was on the opposite side of the roundel to the code letters.

The Night and White under surface scheme was subject to some variation on Spitfires until it eventually became a straight division between black and white. When the scheme was first introduced it was common practice to paint the aileron on the ‘black’ wing in White, and the aileron on the White wing in Night. This was applied to many of No. 19 Squadron’s Spitfire 1’s.

Sometimes Spitfires could be seen with Aluminium-painted ailerons on the ‘black’ wing, where the aileron had been left in the original finish. Gradually the anomalies disappeared, and by the time war broke out the majority of Royal Air Force fighters had the equally-divided ‘black and white’ scheme.

Other Spitfire Squadrons began to appear rapidly as existing biplane fighters were replaced during the last few months of peace in 1939, and the majority of aircraft conformed to the standard upper surface colours. There were, of course, some anomalies to be seen, as might be expected during such a period of hasty preparation for war.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of these anomalies occurred on the under sides of Spitfires. No. 74 Squadron, coded in this pre-war period with the letters JH, had at least three of their aircraft, machine letters F, Q and C, only partially painted on the under surfaces. Their port sides were hurriedly painted in Night, but the rest of the under surface remained in the original Aluminium finish—although they were eventually repainted in White on the starboard side. No. 65(F) Squadron, using the pre-war code letters of FZ, were to be seen in the standard tipper surface colours, but photographs taken at that period show that some of their aircraft were still in original under surface finish. But again, this was only a temporary measure, and all were correctly painted later. As it was imperative that pilots flew as many hours as possible with their new mounts, the new markings had to be applied when the aircraft became available, and it was quite a common sight to see aircraft only partially re-painted.

 

 

 

 

After initial batches of Spitfires had been delivered in the original camouflage scheme, new markings were introduced in keeping with the situation in international affairs. The factory schemes differed from those used in Royal Air Force Squadrons in respect of the under surface colours. Why this was so is obscure, but it is likely that the reason was to differentiate between Squadron flying and ferry flights from factories to Maintenance Units. At this period it was usual for fighters to be re-painted in the Service under surface standard scheme when delivered to a Squadron.

Spitfires leaving the production lines at the end of 1938 and during 1939 had A and B scheme Dark Green and Dark Earth camouflage, with Type B roundels on their upper surfaces. But underneath the fuselage forward of the wing, the fuselage aft of the wing, the tailplane and the elevators, were finished in Aluminium. The wings only were painted Night and White divided down the centre line of the aeroplane. No underwing roundels were applied.

At one period during 1939 the standard Type B roundels on the wings and fuselage were of exceptionally small diameter, which must have been almost invisible to the eye from all but the shortest distance. On the fuselage the diameter of the Blue ring was 15in. and the Red ring 5in., and on the wing upper surfaces the Blue ring diameter was 31.2in. and the Red ring loin. These minute roundels were painted on production Spitfires until 16th September, 1939. They were apparently re-introduced, albeit in different colours, on Spitfires during the Burma Campaign—but markings in that theatre of war are outside the scope of this particular volume.

After 16th September, the fuselage roundel was enlarged, the Blue ring to 35in. diameter and the Red centre to 14in. The wing roundel reverted to 56m. with a 22.4in. Red centre spot.

On factory-finished Spitfires 8in. high serial numbers were painted in Night on the fuselage sides, 6in. forward of the tailplane. During 1939 the serial numbers on Squadron aircraft were painted out for security reasons, but this was not a rigid rule. Some aircraft, such as RB-V of No. 66(F) Squadron (K9987, B scheme camouflage), had the serial painted in Grey, but this was unauthorised.

 

 

 

 

Other aircraft had very small serials stencilled on the fin, and in some instances only the last two numbers of the serial were used. But the value of hiding an individual aircraft’s identity was questionable, and from early in 1940 the serial number was left on service aircraft. During the last months of peace Spitfires in their new, dull markings were to be seen in ever-increasing numbers, at such occasions as the last Empire Air Day, when large numbers of old, well-known and newly-opened, recently-built Royal Air Force stations were open to the public, and the annual Air Defence Exercises.

But one Spitfire during this period did not conform to the standard camouflage pattern. This was N-17, ex-K9834, the special Spitfire modified for an attack on the World Landplane Speed Record.

 

Although it has been quoted as being painted in Royal Blue and Gold, this is almost certainly not correct. The Supermarine House Colours were Royal Blue and Silver, and when the aircraft was exhibited at the Brussels Exhibition in 1939, Flight magazine reported that the ‘Speed-Spitfire’ was resplendent in Royal Blue and Silver.

The entire upper surfaces were painted in high gloss Royal Blue, with a Silver lightning flash over the whole rear fuselage. All the lower surfaces of the wings and part of the under fuselage aft of the wing, were painted silver.

When war came at last on 3rd September, 1939, British fighters continued to retain their existing markings. During the first months of the war the expected massive enemy bombing raids on major cities and towns in the United Kingdom did not materialise. Instead, for the most part, enemy activity was confined to reconnaissance or mine laying. Thus there was little to test the effectiveness of the Royal Air Force camouflage and markings under combat conditions. Local changes had been made to aircraft operating over France, but these did not apply to Home-based fighters.

In October 1939, a tragic recognition mistake resulted in the shooting down of a coastal reconnaissance aircraft of the R.A.F. by fighters of Fighter Command. Aircraft recognition was still in its infancy, and R.A.F. National markings had proved to be insufficiently visible during combat. As a result of this unfortunate incident, a telegram (A.949/32) was sent to all Commands ordering that aircraft were to carry Type A Red, White and Blue roundels on the upper surfaces of wings. This message was sent on 30th October, and was followed by two further telegrams on the 5th and 10th of November ordering all British aircraft, except fighters and night bombers, to carry Type A roundels under their wings. The issue of the telegrams was a hurried action which caused some doubts as to which types of aircraft were affected by the order. General reconnaissance aircraft certainly carried Type A upper surface roundels, but there is little evidence that many other types had the new roundels. Fighters, from available evidence, seem to have been excluded from the order, with the possible exception of twin-engined types. The under wing roundels were certainly carried by many aircraft, except the two types to which reference was made.

In order to clarify the situation, Commands were notified on 21st November in advance of an amendment to A.M.O. A.154, of the correct markings to be applied to various classes of aircraft. It was directed that the Type A roundel would only be painted on the upper surfaces of the wings of general reconnaissance aircraft, the rest having the Type B as previously. But a major change was that Type A roundels would be painted on the fuselage sides of all aircraft. The order regarding the underwing roundels still stood. An interesting item included in these new orders was the first specified application of the colour Sky, which was to eventually become such an important under surface shade. The only aircraft authorised to use the new colour at this period were Blenheim bombers.

Another amendment to the original A.M.O. was that serial numbers were to be painted on the sides of the rear fuselage only, cancelling the previous instruction which included under wing serial numbers as well. These had by this time largely disappeared from use at the outbreak of war.

The only item included in this notification which caused a markings change on Spitfires concerned the introduction of the Type A roundel in place of the Type B on the fuselage. On service Spitfires the change was made by merely adding a White ring on the existing roundel, resulting in five ring widths of 5in.

New production Spitfires built after 23rd February, 1940, had the revised roundels. These were larger than those already in use in squadrons, being based on the existing roundel size of 35in. The new roundels had five ring widths of 7in. each. All the other existing camouflage scheme was unchanged, and Spitfires with these larger roundels were delivered to Maintenance Units for eventual dispatch to squadrons. No photographs seem to exist which show these larger roundels in Squadron use in their Type A form. As the replacement rate in the squadrons was not high during this period, it is likely that the majority were stored at M.Us. until after the next change of markings.

This occurred on 1st May, 1940, and was the result of increased combat experience, which proved that the existing National markings were still inadequate. On this date, the Air Ministry sent a signal, X.485, notifying all Commands that fuselage roundels should be encircled with an additional ring of Yellow, to be the same width as the Blue ring. Red, White and Blue stripes of the same width were to be painted on the fin, or fins. In the instances of slim fuselaged aircraft the roundels could be repainted in a smaller size to accommodate the Yellow ring, or, as a temporary measure, a narrower Yellow ring could be used.

 

 

 

These new markings were painted on squadron aircraft soon after the signal was received. As the standard Type A roundel used on Spitfires was 25in. diameter, the additional ring of Yellow increased the size to 35in. diameter, thus reverting to the original size and type used on initial deliveries of the aircraft. But it should be remembered that large numbers of Spitfires had been delivered to Maintenance Units with 35in., Type A roundels, and the additional Yellow ring increased the diameter in this instance to 49in., consisting of seven ring widths of 7in. Two sizes of roundels could therefore be seen when the latter Spitfires started to be delivered to squadrons, some with normal size and others very large.

In fact, reports of squadrons supposedly painting very large roundels on their aircraft for recognition purposes during the early period of the Battle of Britain, refer to those aircraft with the 49in. roundels. It was not a question of existing roundels being removed and replaced by much larger sizes, but of using the easiest method of bringing an aircraft into line with the latest markings requirements.

Amendment of the Spitfire camouflage drawings was made on 16th May, and thereafter all new production Spitfires had the revised roundels and fin stripes. The fuselage roundel reverted to a 35in. diameter Type A.1, but with a puzzling and interesting anomaly which was unique to Spitfires. To conform to the correct proportions of the standard A.1 roundel, the centre Red spot should have been 1/7th of the total diameter, or 5in, in diameter. But either through a draughtsman’s error, or the objection on aesthetic grounds by some unknown person, the Red centre spot was increased to 7in, on new production aircraft.

This shows up clearly on many photographs, and the roundel looks different to the normal Type A.I. This peculiarity must have been noticed in some quarter, for many Spitfires did carry roundels of the correct proportions. The fin stripes on the official drawing were composed of three bands of 7in. According to the signal the fin stripes should have had band widths of 5in., but these were probably considered to be too narrow. The majority of Squadron Spitfires used similar stripes, probably because painters worked to the manufacturers drawing for these new additions to the aircrafts’ markings.

Following experience built up during the first year of war, particularly during the hard fighting in France, a general decision was taken to replace the under surface scheme of Night and White, which had remained standard for two years. The German Luftwaffe had used a pale blue, Hellblau, as their standard under surface colour, and this had proved to be less conspicuous in combat than the R.A.F.’s `black and white’ scheme. Although the high contrast between the Night and White sides of the aircraft did break up the general outline, the R.A.F. fighters were always clearly visible.

As the scheme provided no element of surprise, they were at a tactical disadvantage. It, therefore, became necessary to adopt a new colour which was suitable for general use under average sky conditions at the comparatively low or medium altitudes of combat during the period.

The new colour, first used on light bombers, was a pale blue-green, and was officially known as Sky. All the surface colour paints at this period were given the suffix ‘Type S’, but for some reason the suffix became solely applied in documents and publications to Sky. Thus, it is often referred to as Sky Type S. There is no truth in any reference to Sky Type S being a later, paler version of Sky, as has been suggested in some quarters.

The new colour became known popularly by many names, all descriptive of the shade. ‘Duck egg green’, `Pale green’, Duck egg blue’, ‘Pale blue’, were all used at some time or another. ‘Duck egg blue’ became the most commonly used in both official documents and the popular press. It appeared, as well as the other names, in many books and magazines of the period, and has been quoted ever since. Being descriptive of the colour, these names caught the popular imagination for more than the name Sky, which had no descriptive meaning to the general public.

One official document, DTD Specification 83A, quotes ‘Duck egg blue’, but in fact this should not be taken as any indication that this colour existed as a separate shade to Sky, because in the same document reference is made to ‘silver’ and ‘black’, both popular names for the official colours Aluminium and Night.

Evidently there was much confusion in the use of all these different names, and in the Admiralty Supplement to DTD 83A the following paragraph appears: `Appendix para 4 (ii). In order to clarify the position of the colour of under sides with this order and the camouflage drawings which will shortly be issued, it should be noted that duck egg blue and Sky Type S are one and the same colour’.

On 6th. June, 1940, the Air Ministry ordered that all fighters would be painted on the under surfaces with Sky in place of the ‘black and white’ scheme, and no Linder wing roundels would be carried. The manufacturer’s drawings were amended to comply with this instruction on 11th June and the change was introduced on the production lines soon afterwards.

As the ‘Battle of Britain’ was in the opening phase at this time, hundreds of fighters had to be repainted with the new colour as soon as was possible, a truly gigantic task, which must have put an enormous strain on the capacity of the paint manufacturers trying to meet the demand. It should be pointed out that Sky was not only in use on fighters, but was applied to a great many other types also, such as light bombers, Army-co-operation, Naval aircraft and Coastal reconnaissance aircraft.

There have been many reports of Sky varying greatly in shade during this period, and there are a number of explanations for this. It is unlikely that there was any significant difference in the official shade of the colour, either in 1940 or for the rest of the war years. Because of the vast quantity of paint required at short notice, supplies were limited and, therefore, much unofficial mixing took place at both Royal Air Force and civilian units. Unless the exact percentages of each of the colours used in the mix was known and correctly apportioned, there was certain to be variation.

In some instances it would be bluer, in others green was more dominant, and shades did appear lighter or darker than the standard scheme. If some of the authorised primary colours used in the mixture were in short supply locally, some units may well have used unauthorised colours. This would account for some odd variations in the colour. Insufficient stirring of the official paint would have also accounted for some differences in the shade. The influence of the undercoat, which was either Yellow chromate or Cerrux Grey primer, is also said to have affected the top coat tone, and this could have been another reason for colour differences.

Some reports have quoted that the 1940 shade of Sky was brighter and greener than that used later in the war, but there is no evidence to justify them. The sudden appearance of numbers of aircraft painted in the exotic new colour after two whole years of seeing R.A.F. fighters and bombers in either ‘black and white’, or just plain ‘black’ underneath, would make the new colour seem bright and gaudy, but after the initial impact of sighting the new shade the viewer became used to it, and it did appear to be not so vivid.

As stated earlier the two main sizes of Type A.1 roundels continued to be used throughout the ‘Battle’. As many hundreds of Spitfires had been delivered to the M.Us. with the Type A fuselage roundel of 35in. in earlier months, many of these continued to be sent to squadrons as replacements with the additional Yellow outer ring usually added before delivery. But gradually all the new Spitfire deliveries from factories had the standard Type A.1 roundel of 35in. diameter, and as these passed from M.Us. to squadrons rapidly due to the high replacement rate, this type of fuselage roundel became the established standard size.

Fin flashes, due to individual interpretations of the rather simple directive, had appeared in a variety of styles. On Spitfires these had been more uniform than on, for example, Hurricanes, which showed considerable variation. Possibly this was due to the Hurricane’s larger fin area, which permitted a more imaginative use of the space available. The majority of Spitfires during the ‘Battle of Britain’ continued to use the 7in. wide bands of colour in accordance with the manufacturers’ drawing. Owing to the varying styles of fin flashes, the Air Ministry issued a directive on 1st August, 1940, introducing the familiar standard size of rectangle consisting of three 8in. wide bands of Red, White and Blue, with a constant height of 27in.

New production Spitfires incorporated the new fin flash after 18th August. The new marking was not painted on squadron aircraft immediately, but was gradually introduced as and when it was convenient. If a fighter was taken out of service for some reason, the new flash was added. More began to be seen as new factory deliveries were made, but some Spitfires retained their existing stripes well into the following year.

On 11th August, following a conference on markings, the Air Ministry issued new instructions clarifying existing markings. An alteration made to existing markings at this time was the re-introduction of underwing roundels on fighters. Whether any Spitfires carried underwing roundels before this date is uncertain. At the outbreak of war the A.M. ordered all aircraft flying over France to carry these roundels, and this Order still stood. As Spitfires went into action over Fiance during the Dunkirk evacuation, roundels may have been hurriedly added for these actions.

These may also have been removed afterwards. Often photographs showing fighters during the ‘Battle’ carrying roundels, and said to have been taken at a certain date, prove to have been photographed at a later date. No new production Spitfires had under wing roundels before 18th August, when the markings drawing was amended to include both the new standard fin flash and Type A under wing roundels of 50in. diameter, as on the original deliveries in August 1938.

The roundel size on Service Spitfires showed greater variation, both in size and position. Some were smaller and carried on the extreme wing tip, but the majority conformed to the manufacturers’ drawing, which was always available to squadron paint shops on request. The positioning of wing roundels in Air Ministry Orders is often given as on the upper (or lower) surfaces of wing tips, and this was apparently taken literally by some units, who positioned their under wing roundels, in small sizes, at the extreme tip. In fact, the position as laid down on the Ministry of Aircraft Production camouflage pattern guides was approximately one third of the half-span of the wing, and this was usually the position used by the manufacturers in the preparation of their colour schemes.

Squadron code and aircraft letters remained in grey, but with some variation in size and style. Although still officially required to be 48in. high with 6in. strokes, such a size was impractical on the Spitfire. Squadrons were, therefore, permitted to use their own judgement on size. Those of No. 19(F) Squadron (QV) were approximately 28in. high with 6in. strokes, while those of No. 610(F) Squadron (DW) had approximately 36in. high letters with 6in. strokes. No. 92 Squadron (QJ) had approximately 30in. high letters, with 6in. strokes. These are but a few examples of the variation of code lettering used on Spitfires.

 

 

 

 

Aircraft spinners at this period were usually painted in Night, but there were a few individual cases of different colours being used, such as P9386 of No. 19 Squadron, which appeared to have a White spinner. Others had a thin band of white or Sky around the spinner. But such deviations from the normal were rare.

With the gradual diminishing of enemy activity in daylight over the British Isles, a change took place in markings which only affected aircraft of Fighter Command. On 27th November, the Air Ministry sent signal X.798 to all Commands notifying them that the port wing of day fighters in Fighter Command was to be painted underneath in Night overall, and the roundel under that wing was to be outlined in Yellow.

At the same time all fighters were to have the spinner painted in Sky and an 18in. vertical band of Sky painted around the rear fuselage immediately in front of the tailplane. It would be interesting to learn the reason behind the decision to re-introduce the ‘black’ port wing, and adopt the Sky spinner and rear fuselage band which was to become so familiar for the rest of the War. The reason was almost certainly for recognition purposes.

 

 

 

The Yellow-outlined roundel on the port, King appeared in a number of different forms. In some instances it became a standard Type A.1 roundel, while in others the Yellow ring was not completed owing to insufficient space. As the former roundels were retained, much depended on their size and position. On those aircraft with small roundels on the extreme wing tip, the Yellow ring could not be completed. Other aircraft, especially those with the standard 50in. type, had only a narrow ring of Yellow, approximately half the width of the existing rings. Wing roundels of any type were never painted over moveable parts of wings, and for this reason it was not usual for the Yellow ring to be painted over ailerons when the largest roundels were used. M.Us. were ordered to paint on the new markings before delivering new aircraft to squadrons.

On 14th January, 1941, an alteration to production Spitfires occurred which did not apply to existing service aircraft. This was the abandonment of the A and B scheme camouflage patterns which had remained in force since the initial deliveries. From this date, all future Spitfires had A scheme camouflage only.

On 7th April, 1941, Fighter Command sent a signal, A279, to the Air Ministry and all Commands notifying them that from dawn on 15th April all fighters would revert to all-Sky under surfaces, with Type A roundels. This was subsequently delayed to be effective from dawn on 22nd April. The ‘black’ port wing had remained in use from 27th November, 1940, until removed by 22nd April, 1941. From available evidence it seems that it was never applied to production Spitfires, although the Sky spinner and band were introduced on the production lines later.

 

 

 

 

 

There were good reasons why the ‘black’ wing was probably not painted on at factories. During this period large stocks of reserve Spitfires were held at M.Us. and the usage rate was much less than it had been a few months earlier during the Battle of Britain. As the ‘black’ wing was only intended to be temporary, new production Spitfires so marked would not have reached squadrons until after the markings had been removed. As the markings only applied to Fighter Command aircraft, and Spitfires in standard European day fighter camouflage were being used in other war zones (i.e. non-desert areas in the Middle East and the Far East), these markings would have had to be removed before dispatch. It was, therefore, more convenient to have them painted on at M.Us. when they were required for delivery to Fighter Command squadrons.

From the middle of 1941 British fighters began to increase the offensive into enemy-held territory, and the fighting was carried out over land and sea, and at ever-increasing altitudes. For this changed tactical reason the existing colours of Dark Green and Dark Earth, with Sky under sides, were unsuitable. These colours had proved their worth when rendering fighters less conspicuous on aerodromes during re-arming and refuelling when enemy aircraft roamed the skies over Britain during daylight. The colours had also proved to be correct during combat over the greens and browns of the British countryside at the comparatively low levels of the average raids made during mid-1940.

But with the changed situation of the air war, experiments were carried out to determine a suitable combination of colours to meet the new combat conditions. Different colours were tried out on several Hurricanes at the Air Fighting Development Unit at Duxford, and included various combinations of Dark Green and different Greys, or two tones of Grey. Extended trials were carried out on a few operational Hurricanes.

Eventually the decision was taken to retain Dark Green as one of the basic colours, but to evolve a new Grey to replace Dark Earth. This change would cause a minimum amount of repainting on the upper surfaces. The best replacement colour for Dark Earth was found to be a fairly deep Grey with a distinct blue-green hue, and it was given the official colour name of Ocean Grey.

Compromise Colour

Ultra-violet light effects produce bluer tones over land and sea when viewed from higher altitudes, as can be seen in the distance on any bright sunny day at ground level. But the new colour also had to be effective over the sea at lower altitudes. Ocean Grey proved to be a good compromise colour between these two differing requirements, and it was adopted to become the new companion colour to the existing Dark Green.

In the harsher, more contrasting lighting effects at higher altitudes, and against the deeper blue of the sky at these levels, the existing underside colour of Sky was too light and vivid. When illuminated by sunlight it would appear almost a brilliant white. Again, it was necessary to evolve a new standard colour which was altogether much duller in tone to replace Sky. The adopted colour was called Medium Sea Grey, and it is probable that the inclusion of the word ‘Sea’ in its title is an indication of its origin. It belonged to the same family of non-blue-toned greys as Dark Sea Grey and Extra Dark Sea Grey, both naval colours, but was lighter in tone.

Thus the new standard finish for day fighters operating in Northern Europe was Dark Green and Ocean Grey on all upper surfaces, with medium Sea Grey under surfaces. The Sky spinner and 18in. fuselage band were retained. Code and machine letters were standardised at 24in. high and painted in Sky. A new feature was the painting of a 4in. wide Yellow strip along the outer portion of the wing leading edge of the Spitfire, and it was intended to assist R.A.F. fighter pilots to distinguish friend from foe immediately in the difficult head-on position of battle.

As no similar marking was ever carried by the Luftwaffe’s aircraft, it is probable that they found it equally useful. It was to the advantage of both sides not to make mistakes in identification. The painting instructions on the camouflage drawing of the Spitfire gave the positioning of the strip as being from half-way along the wing and out to the tip, but this varied slightly on individual aircraft and marks.

The Air Ministry ordered the new standard day fighter camouflage scheme to be gradually introduced as and when it was convenient after 15th August, 1941, and Supermarine amended the Spitfire drawings the following day.

But there was a complication in this story of the change from Dark Earth to Ocean Grey. It has always been popular to quote the new grey used as ‘Dark Sea Grey’, and many publications during the war years, and after, quoted the colour as being ‘Dark Sea Grey’, and it is still being stated as such in some of today’s publications. Some observers refer to a ‘non-blue’ Grey being used on upper surfaces, and all these reports are based on a half-truth.

The official new replacement colour for Dark Earth was Ocean Grey, and all Air Ministry Orders and signals refer only to that colour. There is no truth in any suggestion that Ocean Grey varied in colour during the war years, and was less blue in earlier years. Any variation in shade would only have been due to bad mixing or, more probably, insufficient stirring.

But the fact is that there was another grey which was apparently authorised for use in place of Ocean Grey, and this was the ‘non-blue’ grey already observed. Although no mention is made of this grey in Air Ministry Orders, it is quoted on the manufacturer’s camouflage and markings drawings and, therefore, must have been officially authorised, as all these drawings had to be approved by the Air Ministry.

This grey was a straight mix of seven parts of Medium Sea Grey and one part of Night. It was usually quoted as an alternative to Ocean Grey. As there were literally thousands of day fighters of all types to be repainted the demand on the paint manufacturers for Ocean Grey must have been enormous. Ocean Grey contained a number of colours in its mix, such as Night, White, Blue and Yellow, and it would have been difficult for anyone other than the authorised paint manufacturers to produce a consistent shade. This was the probable reason why a simple mix of Medium Sea Grey and Night was given as the alternative. Although not as effective a colour as Ocean Grey it was better than Dark Earth under the new tactical conditions.

The mixed grey may have been the same shade as Dark Sea Grey, but it seems unlikely. Probably it would be more correct to refer to it as ‘darkened Medium Sea Grey’. Dark Sea Grey was already established as a Ministry of Aircraft Production colour, but its use was generally limited to the upper surfaces of the lower wings of naval biplanes. But it was available and therefore, could have been specified as an alternative grey if the colour had been satisfactory.

It may be that Dark Sea Grey was only produced in small quantities, due to the limited applications in use, and as Medium Sea Grey was being produced in great quantities the mix with Night offered the easiest solution for an alternative Grey. In the absence of any evidence that the two greys were the same, it is better not to refer to the alternative as ‘Dark Sea Grey’, as so many publications have done in the past.

Both Ocean Grey and the mixed grey came into use on production Spitfires on 16th August, 1941, but Ocean Grey became the main colour used for the rest of the war years. The mixed Grey, from available evidence, went out of use and reference to it was removed from drawings, but it was re-instated on 2nd October, 1943, and from this date either Grey was specified. Ocean Grey, however, remained the normal standard colour.

Possibly the specified use of the mixed grey, the removal of reference to it and its re-instatement, reflected supply problems with Ocean Grey from time to time. It is not known for certain that the alternative colour was mixed by squadrons, but as they used the manufacturers drawings it is almost certain that they did.

When Ocean Grey and its alternative were first used, all the existing roundels on Spitfires remained the same, and by this time had become standardised. A re-appraisal of the markings of R.A.F. aircraft took place during early 1942, with the conclusion that they were much too conspicuous, particularly on night flying aircraft. Bombers and night fighters were still using light grey code and aircraft letters, together with the standard fin flash and Type A.1 fuselage roundels.

These were much too bright and visible, especially during searchlight illumination. It became common practice to apply a dark wash over the Yellow and White areas of roundels of night bombers. A decision was taken to adopt Dull Red code and aircraft letters on bombers and night fighters, and to evolve a new type of roundel and fin flash. The new colour, Dull Red, used for these markings was a dull, brick red, very different from the bright red previously used. The new roundel was called the Type C, and it consisted of a broad Blue ring and a large Dull Red centre, with a narrow ring of White.

A related variant of the new roundel using an additional narrow Yellow outer ring was known as the Type C.I. The new fin flash consisted of broad Blue and Dull Red bars, with a narrow White centre strip. In order to standardise throughout the Royal Air Force, the new roundels and fin flash were applied to all aircraft whatever the role, and were specified in three sizes – small, medium and large. The Type C.I roundels had overall diameters of 18in., 36in., and 54in. respectively, and according to aircraft size, and the fin flashes, all to a common height of 24in., were 18in., 24in., and 36in., wide. The Type C roundels had diameters of 16in., 32in., and 48in.

On day fighters the medium-sized roundels and fin flash were used, and consisted of the following dimensions – overall dimensions of rings – Yellow ring, 36in., Blue ring, 32in., White ring, 16in., and Dull Red centre spot, 12in. The fin flash widths were as follows: Dull Red, 11in., White, 2in., and Blue, 11 in. The new roundels were not used at this time on wing upper surfaces of any aircraft types which retained the Type B roundel.

The revised markings were introduced in the middle of May, and the Spitfire drawing was amended on 21st May, 1942—all other colours and markings remaining the same. These markings then remained standard for day fighters in Northern Europe for most of the remaining period of the war.

During the latter part of 1942 and early 1943, some 50 Spitfire Is were converted to the Air-Sea-Rescue role and operated by six squadrons under the control of Fighter Command. These Spitfires were finished in standard day fighter camouflage and markings, except for two differences. The Squadron code and aircraft letters were painted in Yellow instead of the standard colour of Sky, and each aeroplane had a 12in. wide Night (black) strip painted along the under fuselage, from spinner to the tail wheel.

To counter any threat from possible high-altitude enemy aircraft a small batch of special Spitfire HF. Mk. VIIs, with extended wing tips, was produced and entered service with Fighter Command. On 7th June, 1943, the Air Ministry issued instructions for a new colour scheme to be applied to very high flying day fighters, and this finish was painted on some production HF.Mk. Vlls. The new colour scheme was as follows: all upper surfaces, including fin, rudder and spinner, Medium Sea Grey. All under surfaces

P.R.U. Blue. Roundels, carried on upper wing surfaces and fuselage sides only, were Type B, and the fin flash was the standard 24in. square, but was composed only of two bars of Dull Red and Blue. On the Spitfire the upper wing roundels were 40in. diameter, with a 16in. Dull Red centre, and those on the fuselage were 30in. overall diameter, with 12in. Dull Red centres. The serial letters and numbers were of the standard 8in. high pattern painted in Night. 24in. code and aircraft letters were used and were in Sky Grey.

The next major addition to existing markings occurred on 4th June, 1944, when black and white stripes were painted on Allied aircraft in preparation for the Invasion of Europe, which should have taken place on 5th June, but was delayed for one day. On single-engined aircraft these 18in. wide stripes were painted across the full chord of the wings, top and bottom, 6in. inboard of the roundels.

On the fuselage the stripes were painted 18in. forward of the tailplane, but not over National markings, code and aircraft letters or serial numbers. In most instances, as the rearmost band was 18in. forward of the tailplane, the Sky rear fuselage band was not obliterated but was reduced in width. In each position on the wings and fuselage five alternating bands of black and white were used. As with all other types operating near the Invasion areas, Spitfires carried these markings in the authorised positions.

D-Day Markings Removed

After September, 1944, the markings were removed from upper surfaces. As many squadrons had by then moved to aerodromes on the Continent the possibility of being attacked on the ground increased, and, therefore, it became necessary to restore the effectiveness of upper surface camouflage. Gradually the markings disappeared from use, and by the end of 1944 most had been removed. The markings were really only required for the initial phases of the Invasion, when such vast numbers of aircraft of all types were swarming over the beach-heads, and associated areas of activity.

After the formation of the 2nd Tactical Air Force in preparation for the forthcoming Invasion of Europe, a number of Spitfire squadrons, mostly Mk. IXs, were allotted to the new command. With the decreasing number of combats between opposing fighters, many Spitfire Squadrons were employed in the Ground Attack role, and operated in this manner with the 2nd Tactical Air Force.

As the Allied Forces pushed further into enemy-held territory squadrons began operating from bases on the Continent. In order to reduce their vulnerability on the ground when based at such short distances from enemy airfields, the Sky-painted spinner and 18in. rear fuselage band were usually re-painted, the spinner in black and the band in one of the basic camouflage colours. In the case of the latter this was often Ocean Grey. Early in 1945 the upper wing roundel of Royal Air Force fighters was changed from a Type B to a Type ‘C’.

No size was stipulated and there was some variation. Some Spitfires had the 32in. diameter Type C roundel as used on the wing under sides, others merely added a thin White ring of the appropriate size to the existing roundel. In this instance the total diameter of the new White ring was 28in., where the existing roundel had an overall diameter of 56in. Production Spitfires received the new roundel after 9th March, 1945, and using similar dimensions to the Service Spitfires with the standard roundel, the sizes were as follows: Dull Red centre, 21in. diameter, White, 28in. diameter, and Blue, 56in diameter.

At the end of hostilities a thin Yellow ring was added to the upper wing roundels in some squadrons, thus altering the roundel to a Type C.1. This was usually the same width as the White ring.

© James Goulding.

A Test Pilot Remembers

Introduction

I first met Dennis Witham in the summer of 2008 and had no idea of his past history on first meeting up with him that is until I looked around his lounge and came upon a picture of a young man in a flying suit stepping into a BAC Lightning and, as so often happens, the discussion changed direction and opened up into aeroplanes and flying.

I discovered he had been a Test Pilot responsible for experimental and development test flying of military and civil engines at Rolls Royces’ Aero-engine Division Derby & Bristol and had made a significant contribution to the development of military Avon, civil Spey and RB211 engine projects.

This unassuming man then began to reveal so much of his aeronautical past it became “boys own stuff” very quickly and I became utterly fascinated. Although Dennis has become a valued client he has also become a true friend and I am delighted that he tells us his story…

 

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 A Test Pilot Remembers

by Dennis Whitham

Part One

Murphys Law

ON THE MORNING OF 7 AUGUST 1972, THE WEATHER WAS FINE with fair-weather cumulus cloud drifting across Bristol Filton airfield on a light westerly breeze. The flight-test crew of two pilots, flight engineer and four flight-test

engineers boarded the Company’s VC-10/RB211 flying testbed G-AXLR to carry out a programme of engine performance measurement tests at various altitudes and airspeeds. It was also the first flight with a new undercowl-pressure switch designed to keep the RB211 fan cowl locks in place to prevent reverse thrust deployment in flight.

Taking off to the west over the Severn Estuary, gear and flaps were retracted and the aeroplane was accelerating to climb speed when, at 3000 feet, the reverser unlock warning light illuminated on the pilot’s instrument panel.

Throttling back to reduce airspeed the captain called for an instrumentation check and visual inspection of the RB211 through the real cabin windows. Everything appeared normal and, after some discussion among the crew, it was decided to continue the flight programme. The aeroplane was carrying fuel for a five-hour flight and to abort at this early stage would mean dumping several hundred gallons of fuel into the Bristol Channel to reduce to an acceptable landing weight on Filtons 7000 ft runway. The aeroplane resumed the climb and, almost immediately, the reverser-unlock warning light went out.

At 20,000 ft the first performance measurement run at 250 knots was completed and the second run at 300 knots was being set up when there was a severe jolt and the aeroplane yawed and rolled violently to the left. The RB211 power lever was immediately slammed back to the shut-off position and at the same time the reverser-unlock warning light illuminated. The Conways were also throttled back, to reduce the huge asymmetric thrust condition, and the aeroplane was brought back on an even keel. Airspeed was decaying at an alarming rate and at 200 knots there was no alternative but to set up a descent. The initial rate of descent was 2500 feet per minute, even when the Conways power was restored to max continuous and the aeroplane trimmed.

An instrumentation and visual check confirmed that the RB211 fan cowl was in the reverse thrust position and the engine was windmilling. It says much for the VC-10s flying qualities that she was controllable under the strong asymmetric force created by the RB211 windmilling reverse drag and both Conways at max continuous thrust. Thank heavens for rear fuselage-mounted engines! With the aeroplane grossly overweight for the predicament she was in, fuel dumping at maximum rate was initiated, even though the aeroplane was not in a designated dumping zone. With unspoken apologies to the residents of Wiltshire and Somerset, Air Traffic Control at Filton was informed of the emergency as the aeroplane headed for the Bristol Channel. Calculations of rate of descent and rate of fuel dumping revealed there was little more than ten minutes remaining before the aeroplane hit the ground, or water. As the descent progressed and the weight decreased, it became clear that the Bristol Channel was within reach. The crew was ordered to check their sea survival equipment and ditching drill. At 5000 feet over the Channel the rate of descent was less than 1000 feet per minute and the aeroplane was eased into level flight, allowing her to slow down until, at 3000 feet, she flew level with acceptable load on the flying controls.

Setting course for Filton airfield, fuel-dumping was stopped at the coastline and a detailed briefing was given on how the approach and landing would be carried out. Landing a VC-10 in this configuration had never been done before and it would be one attempt only. There would not be enough power to make a go-round. Filton ATC had made the preparations. The circuit was clear of other aircraft and the emergency services were standing by. A wider- than-normal circuit was flown, flaps and gear were lowered at airspeeds 10 to 20 knots above normal. The landing run was almost an anti-climax. A post mortem revealed that the under-cowl pressure switch was sensing the wrong pressure.

A TEST PILOT REMEMBERS

By Dennis Whitham

Part two

Not one of my better days!

“PILOT ESCAPES AS BLAZING JET NOSE-DIVES — EJECTOR SEAT LANDS ON HOUSE”. The local newspapers got a good story. I got a bad back. Nobody else got hurt. Here’s what really happened.

March 25th 1964 and I was having a normal day at the office. My office on that blustery morning was the snug air-conditioned cockpit of Lightning Mk.2 XN723* and I was quietly working my way through a series of engine hot re-slam tests at 5000 feet, covering the aircraft’s subsonic speed range. These re-slams were performed by slammimg both throttles from max dry to idle and, at a designated RPM on the rundown, re-slammimg to max reheat.

* XN723 was the first F.2 to fly on 11th July 1961 – It was externally virtually similar to the F.1A; the only external difference was a small intake scoop on the fuselage spine for a DC standby generator. However it incorporated internal design changes. These included improved navigation equipment, a steerable nosewheel, offset TACAN, liquid oxygen breathing and variable nozzle reheat.

I was operating above low cloud cover up and down a north-south line over sparsely populated country a few miles to the east of Nottingham in order to minimise the amount of fuel required for recovery to Hucknall airfield.

Flight endurance was always a problem with the Lightning. Seven tests had been completed, the engines responding smoothly without surging or malfunctioning in any way. These results would be confirmed post-flight by readouts of the onboard comprehensive data-recording system, including a voice recorder wired into the pilot’s R/T. I also had a small tape recorder strapped to my left thigh and wired into my headset intercom. This enabled me to record a lot more information than was possible by scribbling on my knee-pad and would provide the data for my flight test report.

Setting up test number 8, I selected max dry at 4000 feet, 350 knots with airbrakes out to ‘soak’ (stabilize) the engines for one minute. The aircraft accelerated steadily in a shallow climb towards 550 knots at 5000 feet, at which point I selected airbrakes in, slammed the throttles back and, at 82% rpm, re-slammed into max reheat. The number 2 (upper) engine refused to re-accelerate and the RPM ran down, accompanied by falling jetpipe temperature. No bangs or rumbling to indicate surge or mechanical failure, in fact no unusual noise or vibration at all.

Thirty seconds elapsed while I tried to analyse the problem, for this was something quite different to any malfunction I had encountered on this engine before. I was recording on tape anything and everything which might offer the engineers some clues when played back. Three seconds later the aircraft’s emergency warning system sounded its incessant beeper noise and the red master warning light was flashing. My eyes went straight to the systems warning panel just in front of my left shoulder as I silenced the beeper. My blood ran cold —an apt phrase, when I saw that the No.1 (lower) engine fire warning light was on. Within two seconds the beeper was sounding again as both reheat fire warnings illuminated.

No.1 engine was installed below and forward of No.2. My cockpit was above the bifurcated air intake duct to both engines. I began talking on tape again. “We’ve got a fire on No.1.” This was an instinctive reaction. I could not figure out what had happened to No.2 engine, but a red fire-warning light was something else and it demanded immediate positive action. I fired the extinguisher and fumbled with the cover of the fuel booster pump switches. The realisation that I was in a desperate situation, where standard emergency drills offered little remedy, had the surprising effect of steadying my nerve.

With the warning beeper sounding again to draw my attention to the loss of hydraulics and electrical power, I quickly weighed the odds on recovering the aircraft against my survival. If I tried to restart an engine, the HE (high energy) ignition might cause an explosion in the engine bay. Yet with both engines out of action, loss of hydraulic pressure to the flying controls would eventually cause them to seize up, making it impossible to manoeuvre the aircraft.

I had kept the aircraft climbing while all this was happening and now found myself at 11,000 feet with 220 knots on the clock. From now on it would be downhill all the way and the Lightning was not designed for gliding. I called Wymeswold ATC (south of Nottingham on the Leicestershire border) to establish my position and declare an emergency.

As I waited anxiously for their reply my thoughts were on the weather conditions below. Solid cloud cover, base 1200 feet, tops 3500 feet, surface wind westerly 20-25 knots. Even if I could manoeuvre the aircraft it would be virtually impossible to make a glide approach to any available runway with such a low cloud base. I was running out of options.

“Merlin 4, your steer is 355 degrees”. Wymeswold confirmed my estimated position south of Nottingham — but how far? Thinking of Loughborough and Leicester, I turned the aircraft onto a south-easterly heading away from Nottingham and toward open country. The controls felt stiff and the aircraft responded sluggishly. The red fire-warning lights were still on. I informed Wymeswold I was switching to the ‘distress’ frequency to put out a ‘Mayday’ call. This would bring several stations into action so that my exact position could be plotted and the emergency services in the area alerted. My transmission was somewhat abbreviated for the aircraft began rolling to the left and I was hard pressed to correct it, the controls were so stiff. At the same time I felt heat spreading up my back and I visualised fire spreading through the engine bays and jetpipes. I finished my transmission with “am abandoning aircraft.”

 

 

Reaching with both hands over my head for the ejection seat handle, I was dismayed to find only my left hand grasping the loop of the horizontal-B handle. The right-hand loop was not there. Twisting to look over my right shoulder I saw that it was bent over and jammed up against the cockpit canopy. Frantically I pulled it free as the twin sensations of losing control of the aircraft and increasing heat at my back became overwhelming. Instead of concentrating on adopting the correct posture for ejection I immediately pulled the handle. The cockpit canopy lifted off and immediately the double bang of the ejector seat gun drove the seat up the rails. The 85 feet-per-second acceleration forced my chin down onto my chest and, through a gap in the protective face-blind, I saw myself leaving the cockpit. The seat tilted over and I was on my back for a few seconds before it began a downward pendulum swing, at which point I was given a firm push out of the seat by the auto-separation device. Momentarily I was in free fall, rotating toward face-down when, with a sharp jerk my parachute opened and for the first time I felt intense pain around my rib cage. Discarding the face-blind I reached up for the webbing straps on which I was suspended and grunted with the severity of it. However, I felt enormous relief that the ejection sequence had worked perfectly and that my arms and legs were intact.

Looking down I saw my aircraft far below streaming a thin trail of black smoke, just before it plunged into cloud. I prayed that neither the aircraft nor the ejection seat would hurt anyone when they hit the ground. Swinging gently to and fro beneath the canopy in the clear cold air I felt something akin to enjoyment and I wished the experience could somehow be prolonged. All too soon I dropped into the clammy embrace of the clouds. If my estimate of cloud base was correct I would have little time to prepare for landing when I emerged from it at 1200 ft.

To my consternation, when I did see the landscape below, I was travelling backwards at a spanking pace and the ground was coming up to meet me at an alarming rate. Glancing over my shoulder I saw green fields, thank heavens!, and high-tension cables — “oh ‘ell!” Ignoring the pain I pulled on the webbing straps and succeeded in swinging myself round to face the direction in which I was travelling. Bringing my knees up I cleared the cable by inches and saw, directly ahead, a round sewerage filter bed. “Oh dear, Whitham’s in the sh… again!” I said to myself. Skimming over the filter bed I just managed to turn my body sideways-on with knees bent before landing with a squelch in the muddy corner of a large field. So ended my first and never to be forgotten (nor repeated) parachute jump.

Getting out of the ‘chute harness was painful but my limbs were intact. I removed my oxygen mask and helmet and, to my amazement, found the small tape recorder still strapped to my left thigh. That could be very useful to the accident investigators, particularly if the aircraft data recorders were not recoverable. As I struggled to stand up the pain in my ribs fused with another sharper pain between my shoulder blades. Taking stock of my position I saw that I was in a shallow depression and at first glance there were no signs of habitation on the higher ground. Then my eyes focused on something on the skyline — a rooftop with a chimney. It was a few hundred yards away across a field but the upslope did not look too steep and, on reflection, what choice did I have? No-one was going to find me if I stayed where I was.

I do not know how long it took me to stumble my way up that field but eventually I reached the backdoor of a neat brick house. The nice-looking young woman who opened the door to my knock was a little taken aback as I asked for help. “Are you from Stoughton aerodrome then?” She looked at my muddy dishevelled appearance. “No”, I replied, “I’ve just baled out of an aircraft and I’m hurt”. “Oh, you’d best come in then”, she said. This was my lucky day, for Sylvia Tomlinson was the local bobby’s wife, and I was at the Police House in the village of Houghton-on-the-Hill, just five miles east of Leicester city centre. She immediately telephoned the emergency services and then got through to my boss, Cliff Rogers at Hucknall. Putting him in the picture I felt relieved, knowing he would take control, set wheels in motion and sort things out.

Mrs Tomlinson handed me a cup of tea. I leaned upright against the sideboard (I daren’t sit down) and engaged her three-year-old son in conversation about the Dinky cars he was playing with. Eventually, help arrived in the form of two firemen, who had been diverted en route to the crash site to pick me up and take me to Leicester Infirmary. One of the orderlies wheeling me into the casualty department, eying my flying suit and helmet, called out “Alright, Bill — just another bloody motorcyclist.” I couldn’t be bothered to react. My reserves of physical and mental stamina were ebbing away and, feeling the need for a shoulder to lean on, I asked one of the firemen to stay with me until my boss arrived. When an Indian-looking doctor appeared on the scene and asked me to get off the bed, stand up straight, then try to bend over and touch my toes, like a zombie I began to do his bidding. Then something clicked in my head and I said, “Don’t be bloody silly.” As I levered myself back onto the bed I noticed my fireman friend engaging the doctor in quiet conversation. After an uncomfortable session in the X-ray department I was back in the casualty begging a cigarette off my friend (my pipe was back in the office) when a minor commotion at the door heralded the arrival of Cliff and my wife, Chris.

 

 

The Indian doctor was not best pleased at this invasion of his domain and, after a few minutes of agitated discussion, looked at me severely. “Do you want to discharge yourself from this hospital?” I looked at Cliff, he nodded, I said “Yes”, and before I knew it I was tucked up in the Company ambulance in the capable hands of Sister Downham for the long drive home to Watnall. Just before we departed I handed my tape recorder to Cliff. “I hope it’s all there”, I said. “Oh, and tell Jock Cameron (flight safety equipment department) that the seat worked fine.” After the indignity of being carried upstairs in my own house, I shut up as Sister Downham helped Chris to put me to bed. The doctor came and went. He diagnosed damage to several vertebrae in the area between my shoulder blades, but no injury to ribs. One of the irritating aspects of lying on one’s sick-bed, I discovered, was that doctors invariably discuss their findings with family and friends out of earshot of the patient. Very disconcerting and very annoying. I remember little of the following twenty-four hours. The pain and the effects of delayed shock were uncomfortable and very embarrassing. Chris coped well, with the support of the doctor and Sister Downham and, by the end of the second day, we were ready to receive visitors. Cliff and John Dent (Chief Flight Test Engineer) confirmed news reports that the aircraft had crashed in a field, damaging neither property nor people, and that the ejection seat had landed by the back door of a cottage, breaking a window but hurting no-one. The aircraft data and voice recorders had been recovered and, together with my personal tape recorder, would help identify the cause of the crash. Within two more days the engineers came up with the answer.

The thermometer probe inserted into the main high-pressure fuel pipe of the No.2 (upper) engine had been blown out of its housing by the fuel pressure — the retaining-nut was still secured to the tapping on the pipe. On test number 8 the probe blew out and the engine ran down as it became starved of fuel. However, fuel was now released into the engine bay through the open tapping. This quickly seeped through the bay floor and onto the hot section of the lower engine where it ignited — hence the engine fire warning for this engine. At the same time, the leaking fuel sprayed aft and ignited in the reheat jetpipe zones of both engines —hence the reheat fire warnings on both engines.

The engineers were able to confirm that both engines had been shut down and the fire extinguishers had been discharged. There was clear evidence of fire in the lower engine bay and the jetpipe zones, but none of mechanical failure of either engine. A Ministry of Aviation board of inquiry was held at my bedside some days later, the subsequent findings of which endorsed my account of the incident and the technical investigation carried out by our engineers. One of the recommendations was that the sealing of the upper engine bay floor should be improved. The Company put me in the capable hands of the Royal Air Force medics and after excellent treatment in their hospital and rehabilitation units, I was flying again three months later.

The Rolls-Royce Heritage Trust

Formed in 1981 to promote and preserve the history and engineering excellence of Rolls-Royce. There are five Branches which serve the historical interests of the ancestor companies that, over the years, were assimilated to create the present-day Rolls-Royce – http://www.rolls-royce.heritage_trust/

A Good Shepherd

All too often, emergencies in flight were compounded by either too much fuel or not enough. The VC-10 incident was an example of too much fuel adding to the crews difficulties. In the following incident, running out of fuel was my main concern.

On 4 April 1966 I took off from Hucknall in Lightning Mk.3 XN734 to carry out a supersonic acceleration to Mach 2, followed by an energy climb to 60,000 feet along the Bedford supersonic range. This was a 10-mile-wide corridor from Bedford north-east to The Wash. Climbing to 37,000 feet, the tropopause on that day, Bedford control helped me to align the aircraft for the supersonic acceleration along the range. Given the go-ahead, I selected max reheat at Mach 09 and felt the usual firm push in the back as the aircraft accelerated. After a slight hesitation in the transonic region (Mach 098 to 1.03) accompanied by a tailplane trim change, the aircraft settled into a smooth and steady supersonic acceleration and it became eerily quiet in the cockpit as the shockwave cone developed. The pace of the acceleration was such that I had to talk rapidly, without pause, to record engine and aircraft data.

At Mach 2 I eased the aircraft into an energy climb. The aim was to convert speed (kinetic energy) into height and the technique evolved around a smooth low-G pull up to 40- 45-degree climb angle, followed by a controlled push-over to maintain zero G as the climb progressed max reheat thrust was maintained throughout the climb. Ambient temperature at the tropopause and beyond into the stratosphere was critical in determining the ultimate altitude reached. A year later, we were aiming for and achieving 70-75000 feet, but on this flight 60,000 feet was the programmed altitude.

At 60,000 feet I eased the aircraft out of the climb at Mach 1.2 and recorded my final readings. I throttled back to cancel reheat and applied tailplane trim to counteract the transonic pitch change. The aircraft trembled and felt unstable. Stalling? Pushing the nose down I focused on the Machmeter and the airspeed indicator. They did not make sense in relation to the behaviour of the aircraft and they were not responding in unison as speed increased in the dive. Levelling off at 36,000 feet I set cruise RPM and turned westward towards the Lincolnshire coast. It was immediately obvious that the Machmeter and airspeed indicator were not functioning properly, due to some fault in the pitot/static supply. They were giving false readings for level cruise flight and did not respond normally to acceleration and deceleration. I was in a fix.

Flying an approach to land at 170 knots with no airspeed indicator would be difficult enough in gin-clear weather, but the weather below was anything but. A solid sheet of low stratus covered the area and I would have to make a radar- controlled instrument approach. With no airspeed indicator, Hucknall’s relatively short runway was not an option. I called RAF Binbrook, the nearest Lightning airfield, to check their weather conditions. “Cloud base 400 feet, visibility 1 mile . Oh dear!” I began to feel very apprehensive as I described my predicament to the controller.

“What’s your endurance?’ he asked. “About twenty minutes, I replied, with a rueful glance at the fuel gauges. “Standby’, he said, “we’ll try to get you a shepherd”. The RAF controllers were past-masters at playing down emergency situations and this one was an ace. In a calm matter-of-fact voice he kept me informed as they diverted a Lightning from exercise over Yorkshire and vectored him onto me. Meanwhile, all I could do was set engine RPM for endurance flying and orbit overhead Binbrook.

After a nail-biting ten minutes of watching my fuel gauges run down I was joined by Sqn Ldr John Vickery in a Lightning and he invited me to formate on him for the recovery to Binbrook. Slipping into close formation on his right wing I said ‘Long time since I did this”. His response was to brief me in some detail about how we would fly an approach to land in close formation. It was just like being back in the RAF. Very reassuring — for me!

The descent in clear weather helped me to settle down to close-formation flying, so that when we dropped into cloud for the radar approach to land, I felt reasonably confident. How my shepherd felt about it I’m not sure. He certainly demonstrated great flying skill and airmanship in the way he gave his calls for airbrakes, flaps, gear down and so on. I knew we both had insufficient fuel to make a go-round; we had to make it first time. Sweating with concentration, I clung to John’s wingtip until, at a very low altitude, we emerged from cloud and he began calling airspeed reductions to the runway threshold. Only in the final fifty feet did I start looking at the runway ahead. We landed, I called ‘chute deployed”, John followed suit and we completed our landing run.

After shutdown in dispersal I went across to thank him for rescuing both me and my aircraft. It turned out he had even less fuel remaining than me and made a joke about calling for a tractor to tow him to the dispersal. What a splendid example of selfless commitment on his part. I was pleased to hear that he got a Green Endorsement commendation from the AOC for his effort. The fault in my aircraft was caused by an instrumentation tapping into the pitot/static system coming adrift.

XN734; C/N 95113 ff D. de Villiers 13-7-62 Samlesbury. Aircraft on charge to Rolls Royce for engine development programme F 3 (Avon 301s). To Hucknall, 6-12-65; returned to Warton, 18-9-67; to 60 MU, 5-2-70. Sold to the BAC for Saudi Arabian contract as G27-239. Scrapped at Cranfield 1/12/94

G-27-239 (cn 95113) Initially allocated British military serial XN734 and was used by Rolls Royce for engine development in the early sixties, later allocated the maintenance number 8346M for ground instruction with the RAF. British Aircraft Corporation used the ‘Class B’ registration G-27-239 with its Saudi Support Unit. It was purchased by Aces High in 1986 and allocated the civilian registration G-BNCA. Scrapped at Cranfield in December 1994.

Gallery

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spitfire MK XIV G-ALGT was originally fitted with a Rolls Royce Griffon engine MK 65 which was the original design standard. Unfortunately no further spares are available for this type of engine fitted to G-ALGT and also the Griffon 66 fitted to a Spitfire MK XIX of the Battle of Britain flight. Both engines have reached the end of their approved life. As a result of this Rolls Royce have undertaken a study to modify the Griffon MK 58 engine as it is currently used in the Shackleton AEW MK2 aircraft, to be interchangeable with the Griffon MK 65. The changes required to achieve this standard are integrated into Rolls Royce modification No 267.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Herbert Clifford Rogers OBE DFC Joined R.A.F. in 1938 as aircraft apprentice. Trained as pilot in 1941 and flew Lancasters on operations. Served also with Transport Command before leaving the Service. Was awarded D.F.C. Appointed C.F.I, at Tollerton Airport until joining Rolls-Royce in 1948.Cliff Rogers was the Chief Test Pilot at Hucknall until 1971.

 

 

 

 

A weird and wonderful flying machine

In 1969, the German company VFW invited three British test pilots to fly their experimental 1262 Hover Rig, designed to evaluate a new fly-by-wire control system for their proposed VTOL fighter, the VAK191. The Rig was powered by five Rolls–Royce RB 108 jet lift engines and, as project test pilot for those engines, I was included in the party.

 

Ludwig (Lui) Obermeier, VFW’s chief test pilot, was a great fan of Rolls-Royce and had asked me over a day ahead of the others. Displaying a jovial concern for my welfare, he stopped off at the hospital en-route to the airfield to have my blood type identified. “Our blood wagon at the test site is always kept fully stocked with the pilot’s blood type,” he chortled.

In a remote corner of Bremen airport, I became acquainted with the Hover Rig. Tethered to the ground on a huge steel pedestal over a metal grid, it looked like something out of H.G.Wells. Within a long steel framework were the five small lift engines, all in a row. In the centre section were two small fuel tanks.

Thin steel tubes ran along its length, nose to tail and also athwartships, forming stubby mechano–like outriggers. It had two main wheels and a nose wheel. The open cockpit had a canvas cover around front and sides. A familiar and welcome sight was the pilot’s ejection seat. I strapped in, looked through the windshield and there, perched on the nose was a triple cup anemometer. Was Emmet on the design team?

With engines running, I was cleared to manoeuvre the Rig. The controls were conventional – a stick for pitch and bank and foot pedals for yaw control. It was, I soon discovered, different from both the fixed wing aircraft and helicopters I was familiar with. I could select and maintain an angle in pitch and bank by moving the stick and holding it in a fixed position. The Rig would yaw at a rate selected by foot pedal position.

All of which was achieved by sending electrical signals to nozzles, supplied by compressed air from the engines, making them open or close. Hence the term ‘Fly-by-Wire’. Nozzles were positioned at nose and tail and also athwartships on the outriggers. I tried to imagine how I would control this ungainly contraption in free flight.

The moment arrived ‘when men would be sorted from boys’ and, as I mounted the Rig positioned free standing over the grid, the final words of Lui’s briefing were ringing in my ears. “Remember, you have only twelve minutes fuel endurance..”

Take-off checks complete, I took a deep breath and opened the single throttle lever controlling all engines. The vertical lift off was clean and I established a hover at 30 feet over the grid. I was pleased with the engines response and so long as I didn’t get overactive on the controls, I could maintain position. Transition to forward flight was straightforward, but with the engines mounted rigidly in the tilting airframe, I had to juggle with the throttle to maintain height. In sideways and rotating manoeuvres, it felt like a helicopter, except for a total lack of control feedback. I arrived back over the grid at 30 feet to find two engineers positioned at roughly 11 o’clock and 1 o’clock to act as ‘guide dogs’.

Once position was established, the vertical descent to land was no problem; the grid absorbed the down jet blast. On shutdown, my stopwatch showed 8.12 minutes elapsed time. On my second flight, I tried more adventurous manoeuvres and began to come to terms with the Rig slavishly following my stick and rudder movements. I made it back to the grid with just two minutes to spare. It was a stimulating exercise and I was presented with a cartoon-like certificate, signed by all the VFW crew, to remind me of it. Subsequently, Lui made a series of test flights in the VAK191 and had a few ‘interesting moments’ before the project was cancelled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

History records that Rolls-Royce was placed in receivership in February 1971. By then the RB211 had already flown on the VC-10 and the L1011. What remained in shortfall was engine thrust — yet before February was through, an enormous improvement was recorded — from 34,000 lb thrust to the 40,000 lb the L1011, by then known as TriStar, needed. The improvement reflected the touch of Sir Stanley Hooker (SGH) who, having returned from retirement, commented that “the RB211 crisis would never have come about had that great jewel Lombard been at the helm. But it did and the engine entered service with Eastern Airlines a year late. We all know what a success the RB211 ultimately became and that todays Trent engine family is now beginning to dominate its sector of the world market.

 

 

 

 

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Artifacts and images of the Cyprus tour 1954/6

 

 

A sombre letter to British Service personnel from EOKA

Ethniki Organosis Kyprion Agoniston (“National Organisation of Cypriot Fighters”). A Greek Cypriot nationalist paramilitary organisation that fought a campaign for the end of British rule in Cyprus, for the island’s self-determination and for eventual union with Greece. During the course of the insurrection, 105 British servicemen were killed as well as 51 members of the police.

 

 

Photo reconnaissance over the Suez Canal and Red Sea in Gloster Meteor PR.10 at 500 feet AGL – 1954

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A personal note to Flying Instructors and Pupils from Air Vice Marshall Brookes AOC 25 Group between 1956 and 1958…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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…and finally the ‘Autumn Ball’, Little Rissington, 1956

 

 

 Thank you Dennis

 

Chris Whitham – postscript with a twist!

The familiar scene of another get-together for the few survivors of a Lancaster Squadron, their families and loyal supporters, who would never miss a reunion at the Lincolnshire airfield which meant so much to them.

The photographer was setting up his camera and people were taking their places. There was a lot of chat and laughter as people greeted old friends. Even the weather was good. The photographer called ‘smile’.

Unexpectedly someone shouted  ‘Whose dog is that on the front row? Anyone?’ Nobody claimed the dog but one of the men took the dog to the back where there was a path, telling it to ‘go home’. By the time this gallant man had regained his seat, the dog had reappeared and was sitting in his place on the front row. This caused some amusement and some of the people called out to the photographer to take his pictures. After all, the dog was well behaved and doing no harm.

That evening after an excellent dinner at the Woodhall Spa Hotel, the photographs were on display and people were able to make their particular choice.

Just one comment from everyone – ‘Where was the dog?’

The photographer and his assistant said not one of the plates he had taken that afternoon had shown a dog.

Could this have been the ghost of Nigger – Guy Gibsons beloved Labrador!

 

Church Fenton Village – A Short History

 

FENTON – the word is old English. Fen meaning marshland; Tun or Ton meaning an enclosure or land reclaimed from the Fans or marshes.

KIRK – meaning CHURCH or GREAT. So it is the parish of KIRK (church/great) FENTON with LITTLE (or South) FENTON and BIGGIN.

The parish was originally situated in the Barkston Ash Wapentake (District like the old Hundred; the word means also “weapon shaking” as a sign of consent at meetings) of the West Riding and, of course, in earliest times in the Kingdom of Elmet 963 A.D.

1086 A.D. was the year of the DOOMSDAY SURVEY. Fenton is mentioned but not the Church; but during the same year a survey of‟ the Archbishop‟s Manor at Sherburn-in-Elmet took place and we read, “two churches are there and two priests” As Fenton church was built as a Chapel of Ease to the mother church of Sherburn, we can fairly assume that the second church was one at Fenton, though not this building.

Early 13th Century. At this time Fenton and Wistow were carved out of the large Prebend of Sherburn, and now appear as two independent churches with their own vicars. This fact was confirmed by Pope Honorius 111 in 1218.

1240 A.D. saw the first vicarage, and since 1869 the parish has been in the gift of the Archbishop of York.

The parish registers commence in 1627. It is also quite possible that there was a church in Fenton in the 10th or 11th Century.

TWO INTERESTING QUOTATIONS FROM TWO 18th-century VICARS.

1743 The Rev. William Gill writes, “There are eighty families in the parish, one of which is Papist. There is no Meeting House for the Non-Conformists. I reside in the parish in Ye Vicarage House – I do not know of any who come to church but what are baptized – for the Catechising every Sunday during Ye Season of Lent, the children are sent but rarely ye servants – the number of communicants in the parish I believe to be 120 – Received at Easter 39”

1764 The Rev. James Derbishere writes, “There are 86 families in my parish; 7 Methodists, 1 Church of Rome. There is a meeting of the Methodists once a month at the house of Richard Bean; he has refused to shew his licence. I know not the names of the preachers.” 

An interesting note in the York Faculty Book of 1736 – 1768, p.377, tells us that the above – mentioned Meeting House was registered May 3, 1764 on the petition of Richard Bean, William Harrison, Thomas Bean, John Scawbord and others.

THE CHURCH BUILDING

THE CHURCH REPRESENTS A CRUCIFORM STRUCTURE which is rare in this district. It is reputed to be one of the smallest, completely cruciform churches in England carrying so vast a tower.

In its original form it is assigned to the period 1220 – 1250. In 1280 the narrow South Aisle was added and the double lancet window was inserted in the West Wall of the South Transept.

1330 The large East Window appeared together with the large South Window in the South Transept with their flowing tracery.

1390 This year saw a great deal of alteration to the west end of the whole church in the Nave.

1450 THE TOWER WAS ERECTED – on four new pointed arches springing from massive piers without capitals. Also at this time the south wall of the Chancel was rebuilt one foot further out, and the 13th-century piscina (the place where a priest can wash his hands and the sacred containers or in some Christian churches, a sacred container or basin that holds holy water) was reset in the later wall.

1844 In this year the last restoration of our Church took place under George Fouler Jones of York. He re-roofed the Church; re-built the South Aisle and part of the North Transept all for £447 5s 4d

                                                                                                                                                      George E. Kirk, St. Mary Kirk Fenton, 1938                                                                                      

THE EARLIEST DOCUMENTARY REFERENCE TO FENTON seems to be in a grant in the year 963 by King Edgar to Aeslac of 20 casati (hides) at Sherburn-in-Elmet (about three miles distant from Fenton), which included “one and a half hides in Fenton”. Aeslac probably bequeathed this land to St. Peter‟s, York, and the archbishop, in whose possession it is found early in the eleventh century. A description of the archbishop‟s estates of Sherburn, Otley, Ripon, etc., about 1030 includes “all Fenton except half a ploughland” (Ibid.).

By the time of the Domesday Survey, 1086, Fenton had become part of the land of Ilbert de Lascy, of whom one Osmund held three bovates to be taxed and land to half a plough, as he had done before the Conquest. In the demesne were one plough and one acre of meadow, and it was worth 10s, as it had been in the time of Edward the Confessor.

It will be noticed that this Domesday record of Fenton contains no mention of a church. That in itself is, of course, inconclusive. But the contemporary survey of the archbishop‟s manor of Sherburn and its berewicks says “two churches are there and two priests”. One of these churches would be at Sherburn and the other (if not at Monk Fryston) may have been at Fenton or possibly at Wistow.

But the original church of Fenton can hardly have been a separate parish church, and was in all probability a chapel of ease to the mother church of Sherburn, which until the thirteenth century was a prebendal church of a large parish. There seems to be no evidence of any special endowment attached at this period to the church or chapel of Fenton. It was probably built by such local contributions as could be obtained and was served by a chaplain appointed at a yearly fee by the prebendary* of the undivided prebend **of Sherburn or by his vicar at Sherburn. A prebendal rectory is in canon law a sinecure (a church office whose holder is paid, but is not required to do pastoral work).

Early in the thirteenth century Archbishop Walter Gray divided the old prebend of Sherburn in the Church of York into those of Fenton and Wistow, leaving the portion of Newthorpe, with which he endowed the treasurership of the Church of York. The treasurership had been held with the archdeaconry of the East Riding. The precise date of this act is not on record, but on 31 August 1218 it was confirmed by Pope Honorius III. To the prebend of Fenton belonged (inter alia) the tithes of corn and pulse of Fenton, Lennerton, Barkston, and the whole altarage and all fees (obventiones) with the whole parochial right of the said vills after the death of Master Peter de Shireburn – perhaps the last holder of the undivided prebend of Sherburn.

At this time the rectorial tithes of the prebend of Sherburn were divided and two new prebends, Fenton and Wistow, formed The chapels of those places formed the nucleus of the new prebends, and thus acquired the rank of independent parish churches with prebendal rectors of their own, and in due course vicarages were ordained.

Out of his portion thus assigned the prebendary of Fenton for the time being would pay a stipendiary priest to look after the parishioners of Fenton, for at first no vicarage was ordained.

* a member of the clergy of a cathedral or collegiate church, either one who receives an allowance from it or an honorary member who receives no payment. **Prebend – an allowance paid by a cathedral or collegiate church to a member of its clergy, or the property or tithe that is the source of this allowance 

But in October, 1240, Archbishop Gray, at the petition of Sewal de Bovill, canon of York,(1) ordained that in the churches of Sherburn, Fenton and St. Maurice, Monkgate, York, (2) annexed to his prebend, there should be perpetual vicars having care of the parishes and their churches and chapels. The vicar of Fenton was to have the whole altarage of the same place in the name of his vicarage, paying thence yearly in the manner aforesaid six marks sterling to the aforesaid canon at the terms of Easter and Michaelmas. Of the lands, however, or rents of the same churches or chapels, or tithes of mills, hay, wood, turbary, pannage of acorns or of other fruits arising from agriculture, present or to come, nothing was to belong to the vicar except tithes arising from curtilages.

But the vicar of St. Maurice, in Monkgate, was to receive all the offerings and tithes of the same church in the name of his vicarage, paying thence yearly to the canon four marks sterling at the terms above said. But when the canon [i.e., prebendary of Fenton] should contribute to the relief of the expenses of the Church of York the vicar of Sherburn was to help him in the fifth part of the contribution to be made, and the vicars of Fenton and St. Maurice in the twelfth part.

Also they were to do the same if any other charge were incumbent upon the canon by reason of his prebend at any time. The canon of the said prebend was to be exempt from the payment of all manner of tithe and from every parochial due, and was to be able to erect a free chapel wherever he would in his court in which he might have his own chaplain to celebrate and minister Divine Service for himself and his household, the offerings made thereat to go whenever he would to the use of the same chaplain(3)

1. He was prebendary of Fenton and subsequently dean and archbishop of York.
2. This church anciently appertained to the prebends of Fridaythorpe and Fenton, until Archbishop Gray united the medieties into one rectory, which he assigned to the prebend of Fenton.
3. This free chapel was the domestic chapel for the prebendary and his household within the precincts of his court or prebendal manor house. The chapel might be within the house or anywhere within the ‘curtilage’ (an enclosed area occupied by a dwelling, grounds and outbuildings).

The canon was bound to present to the archbishop, to wit to the dean and chapter, suitable men to the said vicarages to be instituted by “us” in the same, the custody thereof in time of their vacancy remaining in the hands of the canon. Moreover, the vicars were to swear obedience to the canon and to contribute to the charges of the canon or his prebend, as premised, and to pay faithfully to the canon at the terms above written the yearly rent afore assessed. Enacted in the month of October AD 1240.

In the Registrum Magnum Album at York are several undated, but apparently early thirteenth-century, deeds, which refer to “the church of the Blessed Virgin of Fenton,” “the chapel of St. Mary of Fenton,” “the Chapel of Fenton,” “the cemetery of the chapel of Fenton”. 

It may be that prior to the ordination of the vicarage in 1240 the church was rather indiscriminately called a “chapel” or “church,” and this may have continued to some extent to a later date. This at any rate suggests that it was some time before the original status of the edifice was forgotten.

From about 1218 to 1240 Fenton would be served by stipendiary chaplains, the last of whom may have become its first vicar. The vicars were presented by the prebendary of Fenton for well over three centuries. But three presentations were made by others between 1580 and the Restoration. Subsequent presentations were made by the prebendary of Fenton until the abolition of peculiar jurisdiction in the nineteenth century. Since 1869 the vicars of Fenton have been collated by the Archbishop of York.

In the Valor Ecciesiasticus, 1535, the value of the vicarage is returned at £6 13s. 4d., and in the Parliamentary Survey, 1650, at £101. A Terrier of the year 1684 (in York Diocesan Registry) says, “There is an Augmentation made to ye vicarage of ifenton of twenty pounds a year, but by whom we do not certainly know, yet it is generally supposed to be ye Reverend Dr Wickham now Dean of Yorke who payes it duely att two times of the year: viz ye one halfe att ye ffestivall of ye Annuntiation ye other at ye ffestivall of St. Michael.  The Estimate of ye vicaridge of flenton is Comonly at thirteen pounds per annum.”  In 1833 the benefice was augmented with £200 from the Parliamentary grant, to meet the benefaction of £200 from the Rev. Dr. Bull, the patron.

An Order authorising sale by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners of property formerly belonging to the Prebend of Fenton in York Cathedral is dated 19 April 1859 (Index to London Gazette, 1830 – 1883). The Benefice was endowed out of Common Fund with £155 per annum and £1,400 for parsonage, 6 August 1869.

 

 

Points to Note

 

 

 

 

 

A simple renovated Screen, probably of fifteenth-century woodwork, was set up as a chancel screen in 1918 in memory of Mrs. Isaacson (as a brass tablet informs us). The wainscot is formed of thin pieces of oak riven out of the tree with wedges, not sawn. The northern half of the screen retains a good deal of old detail, but on the south there is much renewal – apparently executed in 1844, for the monogram G.F.J. (George Fowler Jones) appears along with others.

Formerly the screen was across the north transept and before 1844 it seems to have been a parclose (a screen or railing that separates or encloses a side chapel, private tomb, or other special area within a large church) in the south transept.

Sir Stephen Glynne, in 1850 says, “The stalls have good carved ends,” but these do not now appear to be in the church. A note by William Boyne  mentions, as not far from the effigy of the lady in the chancel, “an ancient piece of carved oak, now forming the end of a pew, on which are the following arms: (1) NEWBY – TWO stilts in saltire; (2) RYTHER: Three crescents; (3) NEWBY – same as the first, with a label of three points for a difference.” Boyne also refers to “portions of the rood loft”, and seats for the priests being “worked up into different parts of the church.” Fenton Church was stated to have no armorials in 1892, but Harry Speight mentions the armorial pew end. Mr. Joseph E. Morris is silent about all woodwork except the screen, which, apart from the vestry table, seems to be the only woodwork of any antiquity now in the church.

 

 

 

CHURCH FENTON: ITS ASPECTS AND HISTORICAL RECORDS.

Lower Wharfedale (Chapters 7 and 8), Harry Speight, 1902

Landscape effects – Wild fIowers – Appleland – The autumn crocus – Name of Fenton – History of the manor – Ancient landowners – Old field-names – Wapentake courts – Ancient charters – Population in 1378 – An unpublished inquisition – The Civil War – The Jacobite rebellion – A diabolical murder.

Flat as the country appears around Church Fenton, there is a pleasantness not to say a genuine charm about the old winding thoroughfares, with their wealth of wild flowers. A certain soothing mellowness there is in the wide spaces of field and meadow-land; while here and there a rising knoll or “rash”covered with trees render the aspects neither wanting in interest or impressiveness.

Under the soft shadows of a summer’s eve, it is delightful to be out here beneath the warm blue expanse of the paling sky; and while scarce heeding the ever-changing aspects of light, form, and colour, your ear perchance catches the long-drawn “coo” of the stock-dove; – a soothing restfulness comes over all, and half-listlessly you perceive the dim distances grow ever fainter with the brightening moon!

How pleasant also to be in this luxuriant neighbourhood in the spring-time, when primroses, orchids, and sweet-violets garnish field and hedge-row, and the snowy orchards, too, are clothed with a bridal charm. Truly this is a “land of apples” and – asks an eminent divine – is there anything better and bonnier, save a bride in her best array, than a round, rosy apple?

Surely it is one of God’s best gifts to man! “Never a meal without an apple, is my motto,” says the Rev. Mark Guy Pearse, and there is a saying in the West country: “An apple a day, keeps the doctor away!” which may fitly apply to the dwellers in this orchard-land. Ruddy autumn, too, has its ample delights.

The bright blossoms of the fleabane, which is one of the rarest sights in the Highlands, makes here a common wayside show, while the pretty crimson petals of the wild autumn crocus are among the most conspicuous sights in the neighbourhood of Church Fenton. I cannot make out (for no one seems to know) how long this uncommon plant has spread its humble glory over the fields of Fenton.

Tradition says the bulbs were brought to England in the reign of Edward III by a pilgrim who carried them at the risk of his life from an Eastern land, concealing them in the hollow of his staff. But whether the pilgrim brought them to Yorkshire, or how long the bulbs have grown here, we have now no means of ascertaining.

Church Fenton, Kirk Fenton, or Fenton as it appears in old charters, seems like many other of the surrounding places, as Bolton, Ryther, Appleton, &c., to have had its origin as a settlement, in Saxon times. The prefix fen is obviously the A.S. fen, a fen or marsh, in allusion to the original situation of the ton, enclosure, town, beside some wet, low-lying spot.

Before the land was drained, marshes, with their congregations of wild-fowl, must have been common in the flat-lands about the Wharfe and Ouse, and many field-names of sites now dry and cultivated still bear witness to the fact. The Fleets at Little Fenton may be cited as an example.
In the great Norman survey of 1083-6, the place is first noticed thus:
MANOR. In Fentun, Osmund had three bovates for geld. Land [to] half a plough. Now, the same [Osmund] has it of Ilbert [de Lacy]. In the demesne one plough and one acre of meadow. In the time of King Edward it was worth ten shillings; now ten shillings.

Osmund, the previous Saxon owner, was permitted to retain his land as a vassal of the new lord of the great honour of Pontefract. Though Whitaker, in reviewing the rich manor of Sherburn, with its berewicks and two dependent churches, at this time, suggests that one of these churches was probably at Fenton, there is nothing to warrant the assumption. The manor of Fenton was separately surveyed and was not part of the Archbishop’s fee.

The cultivated area was also small, the population insignificant, and even admitting that the lord’s ploughland in demesne carried, as no doubt it would, a capital messuage with service, there is nothing to presuppose the existence of a separately endowed church, as in the case of Sherburn, with its “four-score and sixteen carucates of land, where they may be sixty ploughs.”

Osmund’s descendants in all probability continued to reside here, taking the name of De Fenton, though it is not under this name that we hear of the next transaction in the history of the manor. This was in the reign of John, when the King’s Justices were holding court at Doncaster on Sunday, August 8th, 1202.

A fine was there entered between Alexander Fitz-Robert, petitioner, and Henry de Camera and Agnes his wife, deforciants, of six bovates of land, with appurtenances in Fenton, and the said Alexander remits all his rights the in the named six bovates, &c., in favour of him the said Henry and Agnes and their heirs. For this quitclaim the said Henry and heirs remit to the said Alexander and his heirs x8 pence of two shillings rent of (etc.) 21 acres of land in the same place, rendering hence only 6d. annually for the same, namely 3d. at Pentecost and 3d. at the Feast of St. Martin, for all services, save foreign services. And the before-named Henry gives the said Alexander 1 mark of silver.

Then again in 1208 there is another agreement between Roger de Brun and Ascelina, his wife, petitioners, and Richard Fitz-Richard de Hudeston (Huddleston), of three-fourths of a bovate of land, and of three parts of twelve acres of land, with appurtenances, in Fenton. Roger and Ascelina acknowledge the said lands, &c., to be the right of him, the said Richard, for which recognizance the said Richard gives to the said Roger and Ascelina four acres of above land, of which one is in the culture of Hesse, another in the culture of Muncaie, a third in the culture of Hille, and the fourth lies near the garden of the said Richard towards the south.

To have and to hold the said lands on a yearly render of 3d. payable at Pentecost, for all services. And the above Richard gives the said Roger and Ascelina a half-mark of silver.

Fenton, in common with many other places in the Wapentake of Barkston Ash, is not returned in Kirlèby’s Inquest (1284-5), but in the Nomina Villarum (1315) it is recorded that Fenton, with its members, is held conjointly by two of the families above mentioned, namely Henry de Camera and John Fitz-Richard, while the township of Barkston, adjoining, was at this time held of the Archbishop of York, John Fitz-Walter and John de Selby. The old Hundred Courts were formerly held in this once important village, to which the men of the Wapentake owed suit.

 

The parish of Church Fenton includes the township of that name, Little Fenton and Biggin (from the A.S. byggan, to build), the two latter within the liberty of St. Peter of York. A singularly interesting record of the names of the inhabitants, with their holdings, appears in Archbishop Greenfield’s Register of the 4th year of Edward II (1310), under the heading of Fenton:

Johannes fil.. Thomae holds 22 acres of land Constantius Furmin holds 1 toft; Robertus Jolif 1 toft and 4 acres of land; Henry Diker 1 toft and 2 acres of land; Roger Stain 1toft and acres; John de Lumby 1 toft and 8 acres; John Batman; 1 toft and 8 acres; William fil. Hugh de Chater 1 toft and 8 acres; Henry de Houck 1 toft and 33 acres; Thomas Chapelain 1 toft and 1 acre; John de Birne 1 toft and 1 acre; Margeria de Panely 1 toft; John fil. Henry 1 toft and16 acres; Roger fil. William 1 toft and 30 acres; William fil. Galfrid 1 toft and 1 acre; Robert fil. Wilkoc 1 toft and 1 acre; Galfrid del Meiten 1 toft and 1 acre; Jacke 1 toft and 6 acres; Richard Totty 1 toft and 3 acres; William fil. German 1 toft and 2 acres; John fil. Gilbert 1 toft and 6 acres; John fil. Alan 1 toft and 3 acres; Walter Brette 1 toft; Adam Fox 1 toft; Richard fil. Humfrey 1 toft; Alice le Wilde 1 toft; Thomas Sutor 1 toft; Thomas Alli 1 toft and 1 acre.

Whether the Robert Jolif who held a parcel of land at Church Fenton in 1310, is any connection of the Essex family of Jolliff or Jolliffe I have not ascertained. But it is noteworthy that the late John Jolliffe Tuffnell, Esq., D.L., J.P., of Chelmsford, was at his death in 1894, one of the principal landowners at Church Fenton, and by marriage of John Tuffnell, Esq., with Elizabeth, sister of Sir William Joliff, claims descent from the Jolliffs of Leeke and Careswell Castle, co. Stafford.

I have already mentioned the Langtons as owners of the valuable quarries at Huddleston, and in a deed dated at Bishopthorpe in 5373, a grant is made to William Gray and Robert de Wyclif of the wardship and marriage of John, son and heir of John de Langton, of York, he being then a minor, and heir to lands and tenements in Frismersk (one of the lost towns on the Humber), Huddleston and Fenton. These possessions had been held by John, father of the said heir, of the Archbishop of York by knight service.

Following this I find some further charters from which it appears the ancient and honourable Craven family of Altaripa or Dautry, held lands in Fenton. A charter of Thomas de Altaripa, dated at York, 26th March, 1382, assigns and instates Robert de Barkestone, his attorney, to receive full possession of all those lands which belonged to Nic. de Midleton, Kt., within the parish of Church Fenton, according to the terms of a certain indenture to him the aforesaid Richard (sic) thereof made.

Again in 1383 Thomas de Altaripa of Canton-in-Craven, granted Robert de Stillington, parson of the church of Broughton, Robert Dautry, chaplain of Carlton, and Thomas Wode, of Carlton, all his lands in Elslack, Glusburn, Rimington, Bukthorpe, Newthorpe-juxta-Sherburn in Elmet, and Kirkfenton, with all their appurtenances.* This grant is witnessed at Elsiack, where Godfrey de Altaripa had by license of 12th Edward II (1318) erected a castle or fortified manor-house.

Another indenture of the same date, written in Norman-French, and dated at Rest in the parish of Sherburn, witnesses that Thomas Dautery, of Carlton, granted and confirmed to William de Hoghwyk, his heirs and assigns, an annual rent of 26s. 8d., issuing out of his lands and tenements, with their appurtenances, in Glusburn in Craven, during the life of Isabelle, wife of the said Thomas Dautery. By this arrangement the said William agreed to hold and peaceably enjoy all the lands, &c., in Kirk Fenton, according to the form and effect of a charter of enforcement made to the said William by the said Thomas Dautery, without any rent charge issuing from the said lands and tenements, except the services due and accustomed to the chief lord of the fee, and also that the said Isabella, wife of the said Thomas, shall not challenge her dower in the said lands and tenements, underwritten.

 

Stained Glass. Fragmentary ancient glass is to be noticed in the tracery of the four-light east window of the chancel – but its lower lights contain glass of a modern design – and in the middle one of the three lancets in the end wall of the north transept. “The medieval glass which survives is found in the tracery lights of the east window of the church and in the middle window of the three lancets which pierce the north wall of the north transept. As is far too often the case when only a small portion of the original medieval glass of an ancient church has survived, so here, the glass which is still to be seen is largely fragmentary, and gives no indication of the plan which was followed when the church was originally glazed.”

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FURTHER NOTES ON THE MEDIEVAL GLASS IN FENTON CHURCH  Contributed by the REV. CHANCELLOR F. HARRISON. THE EAST WINDOW. In tracery, which belongs to the curvilinear style, there are fragments, such as a few quarries, which are ornamented with sprigs of oak bearing the acorn, and such as examples of yellow stain, which appear to be coeval with the tracery in which they have found a place, together with one or two pieces of ruby glass. Fragments of inscriptions (in the topmost compartment of the tracery), which give no indication of their original context, and of canopies, with figures of two small birds, doubtless belong to tile second half of the fourteenth century. This is all that can be said of the medieval glass in the tracery of the east window, except that here and there holes and cracks appear. THE MIDDLE WINDOW IN THE NORTH WALL OF THE NORTH TRANSEPT. Apart from a belt of modern white quarries, which crosses the middle of the window, this small lancet is filled with glass which is probably of the first half of the fourteenth century. This glass is arranged so as to fill six panels, three above and three below the belt of white glass. The borders are ornamented with architectural designs in the form of narrow panels surmounted by gables, the whole design producing a pleasing effect. A fragment of the summit of a tall canopy in the same style, in white and yellow, occupies part of each of the two topmost panels. The lowest panel has an example of dark brown and white interlacing of uncommon design. The remainder of the ancient glass consists of leaf patterns, some of them fragmentary, though the first panel (counting from the foot of the window) has two good pieces of ruby glass. It is evident that the destroyer of the original glass carried out his work of stamping out every trace of “superstition” only too completely.

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The property of this ancient house was transmitted by marriage of co-heiresses. Elizabeth, daughter of John Dautery, Kt., married Sir John Bold, of Bold, co. Lancaster, to whose son, Brian Bold, she releases all her lands, services, &c., in Carlton and Jolesum, 33rd Henry VI (1454-5).

Before this, however, a fine is entered of the manor of Carlton between Boniface de Bold, plaintiff, and John de Bold and this Elizabeth, his wife, deforciants. About the same time also, Isabella, daughter and sole heiress of a William de Altaripa, married Roger Ferrand, of Skipton, who brought the Hall estate, not the manor, into that family.

The manor of Fenton was, in 1649, purchased by Adam Baynes, M.P. for Leeds in the Interregnum. He was born in 1621-2, entered the army of the Parliament, and died in 1670. He purchased several Royal Forests in Lancashire, likewise the King’s manor of Holmeby in Northants of General Lambert for £22,000 but was compelled to give it up at the Restoration.

The following transactions (not before published) concern the sale of the manor of Church Fenton at this time:

MANOR OF CHURCH FENTON.

We whose names are hereunder written being five of the Contractors appointed by an Act of this present Parliament for the sale of the lands and possessions of the late Deans, Deans and Chapters, Cannons, Prebends, and other persons in the said Act mentioned; doe hereby Certify to the Treasurers in the said Act named, or any two of them; that Adam Baynes who according to a Contract of the 9th day of October last made by the said Adam Baynes for the purchase of the Mannour of ffenton and other things in the County of Yorke was to pay the sum of [blank] in the whole, hath according to an Act of this Parliament of the nineteenth day of June, 1649, payd to John Blackwell one of the Contractors in the said first Act named whom wee and the rest of those contractors have appointed to receive the same; the sum of sixpence in the pound for all his said purchase money which comes in the whole to Nyne pounds two shillings fourepence and hath been received by the said John Blackwell and is by the said Act of the nineteenth June 1649 to be defaulked by the said Adam Baynes and to be allowed to him or such other, to whom the Conveyance is to passe by the said Treasurers, or any two of them, in part of his or their said purchase money.
Dated this 9th day of November 1649. CLEM OXENBRIDGE ROBT. FFENWICKE
J A. RUSSELL. THO. AYRES WILLIAM ROBERTS.

Twenty-two days following the date of the above, I find this certificate of completion of the contract, enrolled by the Deputy Comptroller:
Know all men by theise presents That the wholle purchase money payable by Adam Baynes of Knowstropp in the county of Yorke according to a contract of the munth of October 1649, by him made with the Contractors for the sale of ye late Deanes and Chapters landes for the purchase of the Mannor of ffenton wth the rights members and appurtenances thereof in the said County of Yorke and other things certified by the Deputy Register to have binne by the said Adam Baynes Contracted for Amountinge to the sum of three hundred sixtie ffoure pounds foureteene shillings two pence is by him paid and defaulked in this manner (that is to say) ffoure pounds eleven shillings tenn pence is payd in ready money to the Treasurers And the residue thereof being three hundred and sixtie pounds two shillings and foure pence is defaulked by the said Adam Baynes upon parte of transferred Certificate fixed upon the Creditt of the Act of Parliament for the sale of Deanes and Chapters lands and one Certificate under five of the Contractors hands for sale of the said lands for vid. per pound upon tihe Contract. As is certified to us by the Register Accomptant.

Witness our hands the first day of December 1649.
STEPHEN ESTWICKE. THO. HOES. (?).

The purchaser left a son, Robert Baynes, who died in 1697, but whether the manor descended to him and his heirs I have not ascertained.* The manor subsequently passed to the Gascoignes of Parlington, and is now owned by Lady Ashtown, but the principal landowners are Col. Wm. Nevill Tuffnell, Esq., D.L., and Henry Edward Bull, Esq.

The Fabric Rolls of York Minster shew that many of the male population of the parish of Fenton, in the 15th century, were employed in quarrying and leading stone from the quarries at Huddleston to the banks of the Ouse for transhipment to York. The blacksmith of Fenton, whose smithy is still conspicuous in the village, is also mentioned in 1458. Singularly, not one tradesman or artificer in Fenton is returned in the Poll Tax of 1378.

The named population then consisted of 42 married couples and 26 single adults who are all rated at the agricultural tax of 4d. each. Allowing for men absent in war, &c., and for the exempted poor, the population of the parish was probably not less than 250, in which case it would be safe to assert that it had been nearly 400 a century before. There was no squire or chief lord living there in 1378, though “Isabella at ye Hall,” probably a housekeeper, is mentioned among the then resident ratepayers.

* An account of Adam Baynes will be found in the National Dict, of Biography, but the date of his birth is erroneously given as 1631, and Knowstrop is stated to be in Northants. instead of in Yorkshire. It may also be added that in the confirmation of his arms granted in 1650, he is stated to have ‘anciently come out of Cumberiand and settled himself at Knostrop.’ It is not improbable that his ancestors settled with kindred long seated in the parish of Leeds, and in a long succession of Adams and Roberts, perhaps descended from the Adam and Robert de Knowsthorpe of the Subsidy Rolls of Edward III.

No properties at Fenton are cited in the Monasticon as having belonged to the monasteries, yet it would appear that Selby Abbey had possessions here, for in 33rd Henry VIII (1541), William Bapthorpe obtained a grant from the King of lands and tenements in Fenton and Wistow, late belonging to Selby Abbey.*

Eight years previously he had similarly obtained the manor of Newhay, with tenements in Saxton and Scarthingwell, late the property of Clementhorpe Priory.

From an unpublished inquisition taken at York Castle, 15th Oct., 1672, I find that a parcel of land called the Fleet, in the lordship of Little Fenton, the rents and profits of which, every third year, when a field in the township of Little Fenton, called Sweemunds, lay fallow, were taken by the churchwardens of Kirk Fenton for repair of the Parish Church.

This enquiry elicited the fact that Wm. Hammond, Esq., of Skaldingwell, had been owner of the lands, and he about the year 1660 had sold the said parcel to John Motterhom, of Bishopdyke Hall, who had not paid the above rent for four years past.
Church and poor had suffered greatly during the troubled era of the Civil War, and there appears to have been a great abuse of public charities, as will be seen in the chapter on this subject relating to Cawood.

How many men of Fenton took part in that disastrous broil of the 17th century we have no means of ascertaining, but the Sessions Records of the West Riding shew that one George Buck, of Fenton, had been badly wounded in the war and in 1676 he was lame and blind. He had served the King’s party under Captain Edward Stanhope, in the company of foot, and no doubt fought at Marston, but being now totally unable to work, a petition bearing many influential signatures, seems to have got the old man a pension.

During the Jacobite rebellion in 1715 the men of Fenton were again called upon to provide and set forth foot soldiers for the West Riding militia. Their names are given in a MS. book elsewhere noted, entitled Ye Register of Sir Henry Goodrick, A° 1715 and 1716.The country was in a very disturbed state for a long period and not until the ‘waefu’ day O’Drumossie Muir’ in 1746 sealed the fate of the Stuarts, was anything like a settled order of society restored; though Church Fenton, some two or three years after this, was the scene of one of the most shocking crimes that marked that era of unsettled existence.

Two honest women named Elizabeth Ferrand and Mary Parker, living together, being well-to-do grocers in Church Fenton, were brutally murdered in broad daylight in their own house by a ruffian named Fawthorp, who robbed them of all their money and valuables and then decamped. Afterwards the barking of a dog attracted the attention of some of the neighbours, who broke into the house, and discovered the two lifeless bodies mangled in a most awful manner.

The bloody deed, it is said, had been done with a cooper’s adze, or some other blunt instrument. Fawthorp was eventually apprehended and hanged at the Tyburn without Micklegate Bar, York, March 26th, 1749.

* The above grants I find cited in the Coucher Book of Selby Abbey, but the charters are undated.

THE CHURCH, VILLAGE, AND OLD FAMILIES OF CHURCH FENTON.

Antiquity of the church – Its dedication – Description of the church, and architectural details – Singular position of holy-water stoup – Prebendary of Fenton – The vicars – Old families – Old houses – Remains of ancient cross.

TURNING FROM RECORDS OF WAR AND CRIME, let us now seek pleasanter paths. The hoary old church by the wayside in the village is invested with no common interest, and nearly eight centuries of history surround its hallowed walls. Its very dedication is lost in antiquity. Though recorded to have been St. Mary,* there appear good reasons for supposing it to have borne a double dedication in honour of St. Mary and St. John the Baptist. Upon entering the church you take a step down, perhaps symbolical of the Baptist stepping down into the waters to baptize.

This arrangement, however, is common in ancient and unaltered churches dedicated to this saint. Healaugh and Adel in our own district may be cited as examples. Moreover one of the pre-Reformation bells of the church bears a figure of the Baptist, with the inscription fac tibi baptista fit ut acczptabili ista † [Do those things which the Baptist has made favourable (acceptable) to you.]

*There are a number of early charters in the Reg. Meg., Album at York, and in the Cotton MSS. (Claudius B. III.), in which the church of Fenton is thus referred to; (1) Hugh, son of Germanus de Fenton, grants to God and the church of the Blessed Virgin of Fenton, the yearly rent of a penny, which David de Chaucomb used to pay him for a tenement in Fenton ; (2) William, son of Henry de Camera, of Fenton, grants to God, the church of S. Mary and the prebend of Fenton, and Mr. Robert de Winton, prebendary of Fenton, and his successors, an annual rent of 6d. which the said Robert owed me for one part of a messuage near the cemetery of Fenton. Archbishop Grays Register, page 189.

† Anciently St. John the Baptist as a patron-saint was very popular, but in modern times no dedication is so common as St. John the Evangelist. Among the old churches of Worcestershire the proportion of St. John the Baptist outnumbers St. John the Evangelist as twenty to one. See Miss Arnold-Forsters Studies in Church Dedications.

The church is cruciform, having transepts with central tower (as in cathedrals) supported upon four massive 13th century arches. These are discontinuous, there being no capitals, a character most commonly met with in Flamboyant work, though occasionally in earlier styles. The choir is spacious, being forty feet long and nearly twenty feet wide; the arch inclines slightly to the north.

The large east window of four lights is a fine example of late Flamboyant, and contains a beautiful and harmonious composition in stained glass, with inscribed scrolls. The north and south sides of the chancel, as also the west end and the tower, are late Perpendicular.* The south window of the chancel is of three lights, filled with stained glass depicting figures of St. Peter, St. John and St. James, and is a memorial to the Rev. John Bull, S.T.P., prebendary of Fenton in the Cathedral Church at York, who died in 1858. The window was erected by his brother, the Rev. Henry Bull, M.A., rector of Lathbury in Buckinghamshire.

* The wood and plaster-work of the chancel in 1500 was reported to be in a very decayed condition. Surtees Soc., vol. 35 (1858), page 266.

The north transept, now occupied by the organ and vestry, is Early Pointed, having lancet lights, one of which contains some old stained glass. There is also a Perpendicular oak screen in this transept, making a division for the vestry, and a slab upon the floor records the death of one Thomas Birdsall, who died in 1709.

Before 1840, when the new school was built, this transept had been partitioned off for the Sunday School, and subsequently down to the restoration of 1844 a loft was set up in it, in which hay and straw were kept, I believe for the sexton’s donkey!

Indeed old inhabitants tell me that the ass was actually stalled there, and that strangers passing in the night-time fled as for their lives when sometimes they were startled by the sombre bray of the disturbed animal echoing in the aisles, verily believing his Satanic Majesty was endeavouring to call up (it is to be hoped vainly) the spirits of the departed.

The south transept affords an interesting example of the transition that took place in the time of Edward III, when the restricted lancets were giving way to the more spacious lights of the Middle Pointed style. In the east wall are two single pointed windows, and in the west wall a double lancet, with quatrefoil above, combined beneath a hood terminating in bosses of characteristic foliage.

The south side is lighted by a spacious window in four compartments, having ‘Decorated’ tracery in the head. Beneath this window is an ogee niche of the same period, coeval with a female effigy now in the chancel, which was discovered laid upside down and forming part of the chancel pavement when the church was restored in 1844.

It is of good Huddleston limestone and in excellent preservation, and is laid upon a modern base. The lady is represented with hands in prayerful attitude upon her breast, and clad in a long, close-fitting dress, concealing the feet. The sleeves are open at the ends and each a little below the elbow. The head, reclining upon a cushion laid anglewise, is covered with a veil, having a double plait arranged diagonally in front, while a single plait extends down either side of the head, and the usual large wimple or gorget covers both chin and neck.

At the feet is a curious combination of heads, a dog and a talbot or lion apparently contending for the head of some other animal. The effigy may be dated 1320 – 1330, and had probably been concealed during the Puritanical revolution. Some old oak forming the end of a pew bears the arms of Newby (two stilts in saltire); Ryther (three crescents) and Newby again (as named, with a label of three points for difference).

The east end of the south transept has apparently been a chantry chapel, though there appears no documentary evidence of its having been endowed. In the east wall are two stone brackets upon which figures no doubt were placed, and during the alterations in 1844 an ancient stone altar-slab, bearing the usual five crosses, was discovered here, as also another in the chancel. The latter has the usual centre cross marked on the front edge of the stone.

The south aisle is separated from the nave at the vest end by two pointed arches resting upon octagonal columns. A third arch lower and rounder than the others’ is carried upon a small cylindrical shaft, having a moulded capital and octagonal base, and a half-arch at the east end springs from the latter.

There is a narrow pointed entrance into the tower, the step of which is now nearly a yard above the floor of the nave, and about seven feet above this doorway is a small square-headed window.

The tower is battlemented, and has large belfry-windows with sloping sills. The curious buttress-like projection at the south-west angle, shewn in the accompanying illustration is only a thickening out of the wall for the above-mentioned staircase] into the tower.

The second illustration shows the east end with the restored roof-pitch. It may be noted that before the introduction of hammer-beams and flat roofs, the leading timbers of the principals, says Mr. Parker, were often formed into an arch by the addition of circular braces under the tie-beams, the beams themselves being also frequently curved.

The spandrels (the triangular space between the right or left exterior curve of an arch and the framework of another arch) formed by these braces were very usually filled with pierced tracery, and the timbers generally were more moulded and enriched than in the earlier styles. Mr. George Fowler Jones, F.R.I.B.A., who very ably and efficiently restored the church in 1844, tells me that he re-roofed it to the old pitch, which was clearly marked by a weathering against the tower.

 

As a consequence the roof of the aisle inside looks low, being continuous with the nave-roof above it, but the design undoubtedly carries with it the principle of the original building. The old roof had evidently been lowered three times by shortening the spars and other timbers that had decayed on the wail. The south aisle was also rebuilt and part of the north transept, together with the buttresses at the angles of the south transept.*

The old south porch, which had been many times repaired, † was also rebuilt, and has a very high gable. The doorway is Early Pointed and bears a nail-head impost. The north entrance, now blocked, has a mutilated stone bracket on the east side, and the remains of a holy-water stoup opposite, a somewhat remarkable position for such objects, and apparently so placed from local usage of entering the church by the north doorway and quitting it by the south. The church was originally a rectory but was appropriated to the prebendary of Fenton by Archbishop Walter Gray.

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KIRK FENTON CHURCH CLOCK

From the Church Warden’s Book 1780 “Paid Geo. Goodall £3 3s 0p for clock. Going to Aberford with old clock and collect new clock”. No more details about this clock. For many years local Blacksmiths made public clocks crudely in iron. I have a bracket like a peppermint stick which may have come from this early clock? This clock mechanism was situated in the lower part of our church, no known location and housed in a structure known as the Clock House. Darling-Wood of York purchased a new clock dated 1871 from a firm called Evans of Birmingham. One has to assume it was also placed in the lower part of our church? It was moved into the clock chamber in 1971.

The inscription on the clock mechanism count wheel says: New escapement and pendulum. Bevel gears, driving work. New bracket fixed in present position by Mr G Newey, Clockmaker of York who still winds the York Minster clock daily. Earlier in 1919 his Father, Mr G F Newey reconstructed the clock mechanism, no details of the work have surfaced so far. Potts of Leeds, no longer in existence, maybe absorbed by other clock people, serviced the clock for many years. From about 1993 we had the maintenance services of The Cumbria Clock Company of Dacre, near Penrith. In 2000 Cumbria Clocks installed self-winding to replace mechanical winding. Two powerful electric motors operate winding drums for striking and clock works. In 2003, again Cumbria Clocks removed the clock face to be repaired, cleaned and gilded.

In 2010 we await some bevel gears to be replaced. All the work and costs were due to the generosity of Fenton Parishioners. Frank Dean October 2010. Frank Dean has maintained the church clock in Church Fenton for a quarter of a century – and used to wind it up every week until he and his wife eventually raised £6,000 to get it electrified. Now his work for the community and the church in Church Fenton has been recognised when he was selected to receive Maundy Money from the Queen at York Minster.

Frank, 86, said he had only just relinquished his role in looking after the clock at St Mary’s parish church and that for many years, he would climb a narrow spiral staircase in the clock tower every Friday to wind the clock’s mechanisms. In the 1990s, he and his late wife, Heather, launched a fundraising campaign to get the clock electrified, and won overwhelming support from local residents. After that, he was still responsible for routine maintenance to ensure it continued working and to change the time by an hour each autumn and spring. Heather was also a church warden for 36 years, and Frank said he viewed the Maundy Money as much a recognition of her work as his.

Article courtesy of ‘The Press’, York.

A contribution will be made from each sale of ‘Fighting Church Fenton’ to the clock fund.

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A vicarage was ordained in 1240 and the prebendaries continued patrons †† The living is valued in the King’s Books (Henry VIII.) at 6 13s. 4d. yearly, and in the Parliamentary Survey at £10 per annum. Torre gives a list of vicars to the 17th century¤. In an inquisition taken at Sherburn in 1310, Adam, clericus, de Fenton, is named as present among the jurors, who say that the manor of Sherburn is held by the Archbishop of York of the lord King, in capite. The present excellent vicar, the Rev. James John Christie, M.A., who is also Rural Dean, succeeded the late venerable vicar, the Rev. James Isaacson in 1899. The registers of the church commence in 1630, but are defective from 1739 to 1750.

* Mr. Jones, the architect and restorer of the church 6 years ago, and now in his 85th year, is still remarkably hale and active. Upon hearing of the author’s project he at once kindly undertook to visit the district, and took several admirable photographs (including the views of Church Fenton) which are engraved in this work.

† In 1472 the porch was reported to be in a bad state owing to decay of plasterwork. Surtees Soc., vol. 3, page 237.

†† Adverting to the conjecture on page 90 as to a Domesday church at Fenton, I may observe that the prebends of the liberty of St. Peter’s, York, were an ordination of post Survey date; nor were the prebends of Fenton and Wistow founded until the time of Archbishop Gray, the foundation being confirmed by Pope Honorius III. (Reg, Mag. Album, III., 56a). The original plan of the canons of York living together, or in common, – a system derived from the Celtic Church, does not appear to have continued after the 11th century, for Henry the Chanter, who wrote about this time, relates that “after the canons had lived together for a few years, Archbishop Thomas, by the advice of certain persons, divided the land of St. Peter (A.D 1090), which was still for a large part waste, assigning a prebend to each, both that the number of canons might grow, and also that each one acting for himself would be more zealous in building on and cultivating his own Share” (History Ch Y, 11., 108). The prebends were called sometimes after the ahars in the minster to which they belonged, and sometimes after the places from Which they derived their dues. The latter was adopted in the case of the prebends of Fenton and Wistow, within the liberty of St. Peter at York.

¤ Vide Torre’s MSS. (Peculiars), page 555. Surtees Soc., vol.49, page 438.

The most ancient local family of which we have any record is that of De Fenton, who took their name from the place, and in all probability descend from the “Richard” of Fenton, whose “garden” I have mentioned as existing in 1208. In 1275 Johannes de Fenton, tanner, was a freeman of the city of York. He is amongst the earliest enrolled, and doubtless obtained his freedom by inheritance. In 1309, Nicholas de Fenton, butcher, and in 1328, William de Fenton, clericus, were also freemen of York.

In 1317 license was granted to Ralph de Fenton, chaplain, to assign rents in Naburn-juxta-Fulford, to a chaplain to celebrate divine service in the cathedral church at the altar of St. William for the souls of the said Ralph and his ancestors.

Members of this family were settled early about Leeds, and they were long resident at Middleton, near Hunslet, from the time of Edward II. Sir Geoffrey Fenton, Kt., Secretary of State, married a daughter of Richard Weston, Lord Chancellor of Ireland, by whom he had a son, William, and a daughter, Catharine, married to Richard Boyle, first Earl of Cork, from which alliance several noble families trace their descent. He died in 1608. Richard Boyle, second Earl of Cork, created Earl of Burlington in 1664, was lineal ancestor of the present Duke of Devonshire.

I have also mentioned the family of Dautry, landowners in Fenton, who had a fortified manor-house at Elslack in the parish of Broughton in Craven. Thomas de Fenton was instituted vector of Broughton in 1391 and resigned in 1393. The church at Broughton, it should be observed, was not appropriated to Bolton Priory nor a vicarage endowed till 1442. Fr. Wm. de Fenton, a canon of that monastery, was vicar of Broughton and a man evidently of some substance, for administration of his effects was granted to Gilbert, Prior of Bolton, 22nd April, 1480: There have always been Fentons at Fenton, and they are there still.

After the dissolution of religious houses there were a few families in the parish who resolutely declined allegiance to the reformed church. The Newbys were amongst these, an important landowning family in the 15th and 16th centuries at Church Fenton, whose arms are in the church. Peacock mentions Francis, wife of Gervise Newby, gent., Elizabeth, wife of Edward Newby, and Ambrose and Cicely Newby, their children, as Papists in 1604. Also Robert Halliley, Alice Dalby, Elizabeth Grene, widow, and Clare, her daughter, were avowed non-communicants at the Parish Church.

The lords of the manor of Fenton have for a long period been non-resident, and there is no house now existing that can strictly be called the manor-house. The old moat-house was pulled down about 1885 and the present substantial residence, now occupied by Mr. Joseph A. Walkington, occupies its site.

The commons of the parish were enclosed in 1771-2, when 260 acres were allotted for tithes. A further Enclosure Act was also passed in 1778. The Wesleyan Methodists were established here last century and they erected a chapel in 1807. The National Schools in the village were built in 1840, when Wm. Ammitt was schoolmaster. The buildings were enlarged in 1871. There is also a Board School at Biggin.

There are the remains of an ancient cross on the green opposite the smithy, but for what purpose it was erected or whether it is in its original position no one now appears to know. The base is rudely octagonal and the portion of the shaft that remains is of the same pattern and about a yard high. The village has never been chartered for a market, nor have markets known to have been ever held here, as the ancient chartered towns of Sherburn and Tadcaster are only some three to five miles distant.

Panoramic views of Church Fenton fields at Harvest time (August 2010)

 

 

 

 

The following pages are taken from Edmund Bogg’s book entitled ‘The Old Kingdom of Elmet’ published in 1904. Although there is some historical ‘overlapping’ from the previous pages I felt that it makes an interesting read and adds further knowledge of the village, not only in the actual content, but also gives us a glimpse of the style of writing of a Victorian author. I have also included the first couple of chapters as it illustrates, and introduces us to, the historical background to the region, including the effects of the Roman invasion.

CHAPTER I.

THE BRIGANTES

ALL EARLY WRITERS OF YORKSHIRE HISTORY agree that the Brigantes, the most important of British tribes at the Roman invasion, and located chiefly within the boundaries of our present Yorkshire, originally immigrated from southern Europe. There are several places on the continent with only slight variations, bearing the above significant name, an appellation formerly given to the hillsmen or highlanders. This does not prove that the districts, either in Britain or on the continent, inhabited by the Brigantes, were strictly mountainous. Brynaich, reaching from the Tyne to the Cheviots, a land of brown heath and mountain, was the northern limit of their possessions. Pliny mentions “the Brigiani, a people dwelling on the western side of the Cottian Alps.”

Between the Brigantes and the tribes located ‘twixt the Humber and the Thames’ was a certain affinity and racial connection; also a great similarity of name and custom. For instance, the Brigante and the Parisi, the latter a semi-independent branch (an offset of the tribe who afterwards gave their name to Paris), occupied the land lying between the Derwent, Humber, and the sea, chiefly the Holderness and South Wold district. The Coritani were a people dwelling in the district lying immediately to the south of the Humber, between the valley of the Trent and the sea. The Iceni, a tribe immortalized for all time in the annals of history, occupied the district between the Pen country, the Wash, and sea coast of Norfolk and Suffolk, to the south of whom, and reaching down to the valley of the Thames, lay the country of the Trinobantes.

* The word “brigand” is not improbably derived from the name of the Brigantes; or, perhaps, from Briga, a border town near Nice. The word “brigant” first appears in the sense of a light-armed soldier, and then it takes the meaning of a robber. Next we find “brigante, a pirate “; and the pirate’s ship is called a brigantine, of which the word brig is a contraction.

These little kingdoms were shut in, on one hand, by immense dark forests, the one to the south, thirty miles or more in width, stretched along the valley of the Thathes, nearly from sea to sea. Another forest ran north across the Fen country, and along the valley of the Trent, remains of which we find in the forest of Arden and Sherwood; whilst further north was the great forest of Elmet, reaching from the Don, over the Aire and Wharfe valleys, to Knaresborough, and, beyond, to the more inaccessible moorland of north-east Yorkshire; and still further, rendering the difficulties of approach more dangerous to a hostile army, were the vast stretches of solitude and fen-land, swamp, morass, and rivers overflowing like a sea at flood-time, inundating the land for miles around. Such were the conditions of the country, and the disposition of the several British tribes, occupying the eastern part of Britain, about the period of the Roman invasion.

We have previously spoken of the Brigantes as a tribe: strictly speaking they were a nation, the most powerful, numerous, and warlike of the whole Celtic people at that time inhabiting this island. Their territory stretched from the Humber’s flood to the watershed of the Tyne, embracing what afterwards became the kingdom of North-Humber-land, which included the counties Palatine of Lancaster and Durham, and the hill fastnesses of Cumberland and Westmoreland, the Pennines, from the wilds of Stainmoor to the Peak district. The river Don, in all probability, formed the boundary of the kingdom to the south, to the north of which are still to be traced numerous earthworks, attributed to the Brigantes; but in their great fight with the legions of Rome, the lines of the Aire and Calder were also of paramount importance.

The capital of this great people is considered by all historians to have been on the Ure – “Isuer Brigantum,” built on the angle of land lying between the little river Tut and Ure, and adjoining what afterwards became the Isurium of the Roman, now Aldborough; but the Celtic earthworks above Grassington, and those in Grasswood, adjoining, prove the latter district to have been also a great centre of the Brigantes, probably equal, and of even more strategically importance than Isuer.

Sixteen miles lower down the Wharfe Llecan (British), Olicana (Roman), now Ilkley, another strong station; still further down the river we find Bardsey (Celtic), and the fortified ridge and coomb, now Compton; lower still we have Calcaria. Nine miles east from the latter station, across the Ein-Stiga (Ainsty) stood Eborach (York), situated in the angle, as it remains to-day, at the confluence of the Foss and the Ouse. Sixteen miles southwest from York are the huge earthworks of Barrach (Barwick), from whence runs the long irregular line of entrenchments above the valley of the little river Cock (the Cocru of the Celt), stretching two miles east, beyond Aberford (another strong position), at the confluence of the tiny river Crow and the Cock. Kippax and Caer-Loid-Coit (Leeds) have also been strong positions, guarding the passage of the Aire; and away south-west on the Calder was the important station of Cambodunum; to the south, protecting the passage of the Dun (Don) was Caer-Dune (Doncaster), Caer-Conon (Conisborough).

To the north of those mentioned, and particularly on the wide moorland stretching from the east coast to the Pennine Range, are numerous remains of Celtic settlement and earthworks, this district being the last strong place of refuge for the harried Celt, in his great struggle with the Roman, as it was also in after centuries with the Engle folk. Such were the disposition and chief centres of the Brigantes at the commencement of the Christian era, and at this period, when they appear upon the stage of the world’s history, they were not barbarians, but in a fairly advanced stage of civilisation.

CHAPTER II.

THE INVASION OF THE ROMANS.

LED BY JULIUS CAESAR, the conquering legions of Rome turned their attention towards the subjection of Britain, 55 years before the advent of Christ. This invasion or invasions (there was another attempt the following year) did not penetrate beyond the Thames valley, and was of no great importance. Nearly a century later, Aulus Plautius in command of four legions (40,000), and followed soon by the Emperor Claudius, again invaded Britain, and the task of subduing and bringing the various tribes under Roman domination was seriously begun.

It does not come within our province to relate how the Romans fought their way, step by step, over swamp and desolate moorland, and through the great forest belt of the Thames valley, defeating the Atrabates and the Trinobantes; nor does it belong to these pages to explain the great revolt and swoop of the renowned Boadicea, Queen of the Iceni; how her tribe smote with sudden vengeance the Romans for their cruel slaughter of Druids of Anglesey, and of the swift and terrible retribution which followed – eighty thousand Britons were slain, and Boadicea, who could not survive the disaster, fell by her own hands: by this deed, the Iceni dwell in the pages of history for all time, although passing thence into oblivion as a people.

Apart from the Brigantes, the Silures and the Ordovices were the most valiant and difficult of conquest. Their Caers were situated amongst the most inaccessible hill fastnesses of Wales, and for some years, Caractacus, Prince of the Silures, waged an unequal contest with Rome. From motives of policy, the Celtic prince ultimately withdrew his army from his own country (South Wales), and selected a most impregnable position among the hilly fastnesses of the Ordovices (North-east Wales), a formidable retreat, and there offered battle to Ostorius Scapula. This grand old chieftain did all in his power to resist his adversaries, yet nothing could withstand the onslaught of the advancing legion, who with closed ranks and holding their shields high, forming a roof above their heads, swept aside all opposition, and victoriously penetrated the British camp.

Amongst the captives was the wife of Caractacus and other members of his family, yet the Silures and their allies were not easily vanquished, the bitter conflict was prolonged for many a year in the hilly fastnesses of the west; thirty pitched battles, we are told by the Roman historian, were fought before the Celts, inhabiting Wales and the country bordering on the Severn valley, would yield their independence – in fact, at no period during the Roman occupation of this island, was their power supreme in Wales. Here in this lone, wild mountain land, impregnable by nature, the nationality of the Celt has survived unto our time.

Amongst those who gave assistance to the Silures were a strong force of Brigantes and the Coritina, led by Venutius, probably a prince of the latter tribe, and husband to Cartismandua (of infamous memory), Queen of the Brigantes. This army of auxiliaries surprised and gained at least one complete victory over the Romans. Soon after the latter event, a bitter quarrel arose between Cartismandua and Venutius. The story runs that the false Queen, of Cleopatra type, had taken to herself another lover during Venutius’ campaign in Wales.

Be this as it may, the outcome of the trouble was a split and civil war amongst the Brigantes. With the assistance of other tribes, and the disaffected Brigantes, Venutius made war on Cartismandua. The battle going against her, she craved assistance of the Romans for help to prop up her tottering power; and probably for the first time cohorts of imperial soldiers passed the natural lines of defence – the valleys of the Don, Aire, and Wharfe – and thus gained admission into Isuer, the capital.

Had the Britons been united at this juncture of affairs, determined to resist the invader with their united strength, the legionaries would probably have never penetrated through the strong natural boundaries of the kingdom (the waterways running east and west from the Pennines, making this the northern boundary of their empire; instead of, as afterwards, the Tyne and Irthing valleys), or, at least, would have found the conquest of this strong people one of far greater difficulty, requiring all the strength which Rome would have been able to despatch for that purpose.

It was at this time, when that grand old type of soldier, Caractacus – so long the glory of his nation and the terror of the enemy – fought his last fight and fled north, across the Severn and through the Cannock Forest and over the Pennines to the capital of Cartisinandua, doubtless, longing to have another opportunity of striking, for freedom, the invaders of his country. Sad to relate, his hopes were cruelly dispelled; for the terms of stipulation, made between the Queen and the Romans for the assistance of the latter, was the infamous betrayal of her kinsman – for the prince was a relation of hers – into the hands of the enemy, to enhance the triumph and glory of the victorious army on their return and parade through the streets of Rome.

This took place about the year A.D.51; but the gallant deeds of this brave soldier prince, and his undaunted reply before the tribunal of Caesar, shine out with a brilliant lustre across the gulf of eighteen centuries. For has he not been the model for the historian, the poet, the artist, and the composer, whilst the name of the false-hearted Queen has been branded with infamy?* Her further history can be told in a few words.

* How like her prototype, ‘Cleopatra of the Nile’, was this queen. The three attributes ‘nine distinctiveness’ were lacking in each that which marks the woman, the wife, were cast aside. Spurred on by a sordid, selfish ambition, each could walk complacently over the troubles and ravages of their bleeding country into the arms of the strong one – the conqueror – whoever he might be.

Unable to hold her own against Venutius, even with the assistance she invoked, she fled south with the cohorts of Didius about the year 54, and so passed into obscurity forever. Venutius, who seems to have been a great leader and a worthy representative of Caractacus, now became King of the Brigantes, and successfully maintained his own against the efforts of the enemy, keeping the kingdom intact for a period of sixteen years, until A.D.70, when the conquest of the North British was begun in such earnest, as could only end in subjection or death. Yet for the space of ten years the bitter fight was waged, until the strength of the nation gradually waned before the superior power of Rome.

So much for written history. We must now examine and endeavour to point out the evidences of this great struggle. About the year A.D. 70, Vespasian, having become emperor, sent over into Britain well – equipped armies commanded by Petihius Cerealis, who pressed home the attack on the Brigantes with a firm resolve to bring them into complete subjection. And it is from this date that we catch the echo of the almost ceaseless tramp of the legionaries, with all their military accoutrements and panoply of war rolling north.

Between the hill fastnesses of peak and forest to the west, and the impassable fenland around the mouths of the rivers on the east, ran a strip or neck of land, the only passable road to the north at that period, across which, and to the north of the Don, the Brigantes made a strong line of entrenchments, so formidable as to stay for some time the advance of the invaders; along the valley of the Don and its tributaries, forming a remarkable natural barrier, and the first line of defence, we can imagine the Brigantes waiting in readiness to check the advancing foe.
Many battles were fought; but how the Celtic ‘Caer-Dune’ (Doncaster), enclosed with ditch and rampart, was stormed we cannot say, for no complete story of the bitter fight for possession has been handed down to our time. The struggle at the fords, the gates to the north, would be most protracted and severe.

Slowly, but surely, the Romans pressed back the defenders to their second line of defence, the vales of the Aire and Calder and the high lands, extending like a frontier wall north-east of the Aire for several miles. From Doncaster, the Eagle banner of the legions was planted at Legeolium (Castleford), from hence the Roman road (still to be distinctly traced) runs high and straight above the low-lying lands of the Aire valley, and pierces the bold frontier wall – a defensive boundary and the western gateway into the wolds of Elmet. Here again the British may have taken their position for the defence of the Elmet country; and there are not wanting evidences of the great struggle for existence and supremacy.

From the high vantage ground, the harried Celt would naturally watch the advance of his foes. Here pressing home a charge; now retreating, or lying in ambush; every yard of ground from the river line being bitterly contested.

Through the dim haze of centuries we can almost hear the dire tumult of the struggle. For the Britons fully realized that once the enemy gained possession of this line of defence, it would presage disaster and ruin to their kingdom. Still northward rolled the din of war and strife, until the third line of defence – the valley of the little river Cock – was reached. Along the northern hank of this river there runs, for several miles, a huge rampart and ditch, strengthened here and there by a double line at this day.

From the top of the vallum to the bottom of the ditch is, in many places, from twelve to twenty feet in depth. At the base, in the deep hollow scooped out by the natural process of time, slowly runs the little river; at that period, dammed back by natural obstructions, in addition to the blocking of the waterway with flood-gates, by the defenders, the beck would be swollen in width and depth to a large river, a hundred yards or more across, a formidable retreat with the high rampart added, strong defence all the more dangerous and deadly, was the great forest of Elmet, stretching in one unbroken line from the Don across the valleys of Aire, Calder, and Wharfe, to what, in after centuries, became known as the wide forest of Knaresborough; whilst over the lower reaches of these rivers, from the Trent and along the Ouse valley to the Lower Nidd, there existed a wild trackless waste of marsh, forest, and fen – land, the southern part of which is still known as Hatfield Chase, formerly tenanted by innumerable flocks of wild fowl, and where the aborigines, who understood the intricate mazes, could glide swiftly hither and thither amongst reeds and mud in their light coracles, as much at home and at ease as the wild fowl; forest and swamp forming extensive coverts where the harried Briton could flee for refuge or lay in ambush, ready to pounce on the Roman soldier when at disadvantage. This was the state of Yorkshire at the invasion.

Leaving garrisons to keep the road clear and guard the fords at Danum, Doncaster, and Castleford, the Romans plunged right into the heart of Elmet, following the line of road as it runs today, probably at that period a British track way, direct to Isurium. Just to the left at Kippax are vestiges of a Celtic fort or rath, and other evidences of fortification along the edge of this hill frontier, but not of sufficient strength to arrest for long the progress of an army, only to be brought to bay on reaching the environs of Aberford. The prefix, aber, is Celtic, and means a confluence of two streams which are to be found here, in the angle of which, and on a high sharp ridge, the town stands. Here, guarding the line of road and passage of river, the Britons held a strong position, well chosen, naturally a defensive site; close by, on the north, runs the Cock; and a deep indent or ravine on the east, down which filters a small stream rising on the confines of Hook Moor, known as the Crow or Craw (to crawl).

It is only by examination of this angle of land at the confluence of the streams, that one recognises the defensive advantages of this strong position at Aberford in the past. Two miles west, situated in the fork of two main streams, the river Cock and Eastdale Beck, is the Berrauc of the Briton, and Barwick of to-day; from a natural and strong military point, the position here has been most wisely chosen. The stronghold is composed of a centre mound and double trench and rampart, the outer ditch also enclosing a large space, comprising several acres; at the northern extremity, the ground falls sharply down from the fighting platform to the swampy ground of Eastdale or Rake Beck, nearly 300 feet below, practically forming an impassable barrier on this side.

As Barwick will be again mentioned in the following pages during our description of Elmet, we leave it for the present, and glance at the rampart and ditch which has been continued on the south side along the edge of the bank, high above Eastdale Beck. Here, in the past, existed a large swamp or lagoon. Continuing along this bank for some two or three hundred yards beyond the Potterton Road, the defensive line descends into the valley bottom, crosses the stream, climbs the opposite slope, turns at a sharp angle to the right, and passes along part of the Potterton estate in an irregular line, to the north of the beck.

From thence the rampart enters a woodland ridge, known to-day as Becca Banks, and so on just above the river Cock to Aberford; it crosses the Roman highway at the latter place, and continues a mile or more along the north bank of the river. Whilst three hundred yards east from Aberford, another trench and vallum commences at the beck on the south side; runs up the incline to the brow of the slope, turns a sharp angle to the left, enters Raper Hills, crosses the Saxton road, and terminates abruptly opposite Lotherton. This line of earthworks at the finish points direct to Huddleston, about two miles away, where are still to be seen, in the woods, remains of trenches supposed to have been formed by time Brigantes in this great struggle.

Apart from the above-mentioned, between Lead Mill and Aberford are fragments of other earthworks. The Britons may have protected the shallower parts, and the fords, with stakes shod with iron, as Bede informs us was done at the fords on the Thames, to withstand the Roman advance. It is quite evident that a line of forts and earthworks have extended from the swamps of Aire valley, between Leeds and Castleford, on the west, to Sherburn on the east, and the position of the trench and the fighting platform, in every instance, faces the south; all point to the fact that from that quarter the enemy came. “Were those invaders the Romans?” some may naturally inquire. The question is easily answered. It could not be the Angles, for those people came from the east and spread over the wolds, or extended westwards from the Humber, along the waterways of the Don and the Aire.

The Danes, who came in war galleys, chose for their highway into the county river way and creek. The Romans, on the other hand, were great road builders, and were the only invaders who fought their way direct from south to north, and in less than half-a-century from the second invasion, had practically conquered the island, from the Channel to the wall barrier, raised to protect the northern frontier of their empire; and the great highroad which we find to-day, running over the wolds of Elmet right through Aberford, over Bramham Moor to Isurium and York, is the work of their hands.
From the foregoing remarks I think it will be apparent that the Brigantes have held the valley of the Cock with a tenacious grip, and it has been the scene of the main struggle, in fact, the “Albuera of the campaign.” How the line was broken no record tells. The final conquest was reserved for Agricola, A.D. 78-80. His army marched in two columns, one striking north, the other operating north-east from the borders of Wales. Faithful native guides conducted them by ancient track ways, through the almost inaccessible forest and mountain passes, etc. Thus equipped, he went through Yorkshire with a stern and steady tramp, and probably swept aside the opposition at Becca Banks, and also broke the Bramham Moor camp; then, instead of fighting along the Rudgate to Isuer, turned aside, and gained York by a flank march from Tadcaster, across the Ainsty, and probably passing from thence, both by road and the river way, to storm and capture Isuer, the capital of the Brigantes.*

It would have been some pleasure to have known the end of Venutius, the gallant Celtic prince, but on this point history is silent. He may have fled with those who would not stoop to the yoke of the invader, and found refuge amid the hills and deep ravines of the upper dales, which for at least another generation remained unconquered. The vast remains of Celtic occupation point to such a city of refuge at Grassington, where for some time the Brigantes kept up some state and show of independence. At length, overstepping the limits of prudence, the latter made war on a tribe under Roman protection, and, becoming emboldened by success, cut up a cohort of imperial troops. This deed brought down on their heads the strong avenging arm of Rome, and the Brigantes, as a united and independent people, from this date ceased to exist.

* “At the return of summer,” says Tacitus, “Agricola assembled his army, on their march, he commended the regular and orderly, and restrained the stragglers; he marked out the encampments, and explored in person the estuaries and forests. At the same time, he perpetually harassed the enemy by sudden incursions; and, after sufficiently alarming them by an interval of forbearance he held to their view the allurements of peace and repose. By this management, many states, which till this time had asserted their independence, were now induced to lay aside their animosity, and to deliver hostages. These districts were surrounded with castles and forts, disposed with so much attention and judgment, that none of the newly explored part of Britain was left unguarded.”

THE ROMAN ROADS.

THAT THE ROMANS WERE GREAT ROAD MAKERS requires no further proof than that the remains of such can still be traced after a lapse of 1,600 years. All roads in the north centred in and radiated to and from York. Those which principally concern our subject are immediately to the south and west of the ancient city. Possibly some of these roads were partly built on the line of ancient British track ways, which, however, unlike the Roman ways (which nearly always ran direct from point to point), deviated according to the circumstance and nature of the ground.

One of the four main trunk roads of Roman construction – the Ermine Street* – ran direct through Elmet, crossing the Don at Doncaster, the Aire at Castleford, and the Cock at Aberford. Hereabouts the old road is easily traceable, and still called “Roman Rigg”. From thence, passing through the Hazelwood estates and fringing Bramham Park, a branch diverges sharply to the right, just beyond Hedley Bar, for Tadcaster; passing over the Wharfe, opposite the site of the present church, and across the Ainsty to York.

The other road, the Rudgate, Celtic, Rhyd-a-ford (possibly an early British way), ran by Toulston down to the Wharfe, past Newton Kyme, and crossed at St. Helen’s Ford; thence over the western fringe of Ainsty, leaving Walton (Wheales-tun) to the left, and over the Nidd at Cattal, and forward, by way of Whixley and Little Ouseburn, to Aldborough – the Isuer of the Briton, and Isurium of the Roman.

Another lesser road ran from Mancunium (Manchester) to Cambodunum (Slack), and over the Aire near Swillington, and into the Elmet. This via-road or street can still be distinctly traced running for some distance on, and then parallel with the present road. Thence continuing through a stretch of wood, belonging to Templenewsam estate, and over the fields to the Selby Road. The track is still visible – one of the fields here is called “Roman Rigg” Field. The road line now passes the West Yorkshire Colliery, runs between Old Manston and Stanks, where it crosses the river Cock. Near this crossing, the rigg, or bank, is very high; from hence we have traced it over two fields, pointing in a direct line to Scholes; it is finally lost by the wood, adjoining the Seacroft and Barwick highway. Although the line of road here becomes invisible, there is no reason to doubt that it joined the road leading from Adel over Bramham Moor, remains of which are discovered just to the east of Thorner.

Another military way, which crosses Elmet, ran from the main street, crossing from Deva (Chester) by way of Olicana (Ilkley), over the Blubberhouse Moor to Isurium. Deviating from the above road, the one under our present consideration ran east, from Ilkley, along the high ridge above the Wharfe, over Guiseley Moor, Canton, and Bramhope, past Cookridge, to the Roman camp at Adel, which is still traceable. From hence, the line of road continues along the ridge of high lands of Aldwoodley, crossing the Leeds and Harrogate highway, thence over Brandon and Blackmoor, where many relics appertaining to this way have been turned up of late years; also the debris and remains of furnaces used for smelting purposes.

* Eorme, the Men of Earm or Fen-land, the Ermings, through which this road passes from the south. Thus the name, which at first had been given to a portion of the road, which bordered the Fens, was at length given to the whole line of road.

From Blackmoor to the Leeds and Wetherby road, one can walk on the Rig. Near Scarcroft, the road splits into two branches, one running on the lofty ridge past Eltofts Wood and through Thorner, and beyond, the track crosses the south side of Bramham Park, and hereabouts joins the Ermine Street, three miles south of Tadcaster. The other branch previously mentioned, is clearly to be traced in the meadow, south side of Scarcroft, where it is cut by the present Wetherby Road. From thence it ran north of Wothersome, over Stubbing Moor, and forward to Bramham, joining the Rudgate in the vicinity of Toulston.

An old man, upwards of fourscore, told us that sixty years ago lie assisted in the breaking up of Stubbing Moor, and at that time the site of the road was for some distance laid bare, arid a vast quantity of large irregular blocks of stone were carted away.

At other places on this street, portions of the road, in the shape of paving stones, some even six feet in length, and a foot or eighteen inches broad, have been laid bare by the plough and spade, principally on Blackmoor, Brandon, and at Aldwoodley. These stones, relics of the road, are to be found in several situations, and are objects of various comments to the interested wayfarer.

End of Chapter 2

CHAPTER IX – Church Fenton Village section…

… Men of fourscore years tell us how greatly the flats have changed since their youth, vast reaches of swamp and uncultivated land existed between Ryther, Ulleskelf, Fenton, and Sherburn, tenanted by flocks of wild fowl. It is now nearly all reclaimed and the farmer seems to be a fairly prosperous individual hereabouts.

A thousand or twelve hundred years ago the state of the fenland, between the course of the lower Aire and Wharfe, was strangely different. There hung a wilderness, wild, lonesome, and desolate, darkened by fog and rolling mist, through which the rivers sullenly crept; even at this time in winter the long stretches of lowland wears an uninteresting and gloomy aspect. The Romans had done something in their day by dyke and drain to improve the state of things, and one Roman relates about a curious and strange people who dwelt in the fens partly swimming and partly wading.

Another historian tells how vast flocks of wild fowl nearly darkened the fens; here congregated swans, herons, storks, geese, bitterns, curlews, snipe, ruffs, plovers, godwits, moor buzzards, water crakes and coots, widgeon, teal, sheldrake, pintailed duck, and a host of other birds, many of which have now become extinct or disappeared on the breaking up of the land.

Church, or Kirk, Fenton, about one and a half miles from Barkston, in pre-railway days lay fairly off the beaten track; today it is connected with the busy centres by a good train service. On every hand, in our walk, we note the evidence of a vast amount of labour performed by yeomen in reclaiming the land. The chartulary of the priory of Helaugh, to which a large portion of the lands of Fenton were given, throws some light on the early history of this place.

It was late in the thirteenth century before very much reclamation had taken place, and the church then was very incomplete. About that time Nicholas de Percy, of Fenton, when William, the chaplain, was vicar, gave a rent of one penny out of a toft to find a light to burn before the image of the Blessed Virgin; perhaps there seems no great splendour in such a gift, nor can we ascribe a very high development to the Fenton of that day.

The place from which the rent was derived is, however, interesting. It is the homestead of William, son of Gamel, at Biggan, a township which in after years the Canons of Helaugh always speak of as “New Biggying.”

The land about the church was called the “Aldfeld” (Oldfield), and there the parson was located, dwelling about the “head landis.” We find such names as a John de Brunne, a Robert de Wextow, Henry de Huk, and a Robert Golyff, etc.

Seen from many points the church makes a striking feature in the Fen landscape. Originally a Norman church, it has been added to and considerably altered from time to time, and its architecture is thus varied from transitional to decorated and perpendicular. It consists of nave, one aisle, transepts, chancel, and square tower in the centre resting on four massive early English columns. The lancet windows and transitional arches are noticeable features. In the floor of the chapel, south transept, there were found, at the last restoration, two stone coffins, one containing the bones of an adult, and the other the remains of a child.

The walls of this transept contain an ogee canopied recess, which formerly held the effigy of a lady, now to be seen on the chancel floor; the costume is that of late fourteenth century, the symbolical device at her feet represents a lion and some foul fiend in deadly combat; and here also are two altar slabs bearing the five crosses, and also an early English piscina. One relic denotes the existence of a Norman church, the bowl of the original font resting on the sill of the window at the west end.

EFFIGY OF A LADY

Near the North Wall, is the well-preserved recumbent stone Effigy of a Lady. This was discovered during the repair of the church in 1844, with its face turned downwards and the upper part used as a flagstone. Sir Stephen Glynne, in 1850, noted it as “a fine effigy of a lady with wimple head dress, joined hands and at her feet a dog and young lion who appear to be contending for a cat’s head”. Although Sir Stephen connects the effigy with “Amy Ryder,” no authority is given for the statement and it is not easy to determine the family to which the lady belonged.

The head rests upon crossed cushions and the motif of the ornament at the foot is unusual. If the figures are intended for a lion and a dragon they probably represent good and evil contending for the soul of the deceased. The effigy is not of ‘firstclass’ execution, but may date from the first quarter of the fourteenth century – certainly 1300 – 1350. It may have originally occupied the low ogee niche in the wall below the great window of the south transept.

Fenton forms a most interesting study; around it linger curious survivals, and, primitive ideas and customs still tenaciously cling to it. The rustic porch covered with woodbine, red brick walls, tiled roofs of the same hue resting amidst green surroundings – the footpaths over meadow and cornfield, over which the lark floods the air with melody, and wild flowers grow, the undisturbed antiquity and beauty around the churchyard. Only a small remnant of what has been the village green, locally the “green hill,” on slightly rising ground, remains.

A portion of what appears to have been a market cross is still left standing in the centre of the former market place*; on the opposite side of the street of old stood a substantial hall (in the Subsidy Roll taken 1379 there is mention of one Isabella, at ye Halle, by this we obtain evidence of the existence of the house at that early date); about half of the moat which enclosed a large plot of land, in which the house stood, still exists, to the south of which the fenland for some distance is still known locally as the ‘oad pake’ (park).

During the demolition of the old house a piscina and other relics were discovered in the walls, the latter were of extraordinary thickness. A few other antique features, a font, etc., are in the garden, and the above, with the remains of the moat, are the only mementoes of the old hall. Around the aged walls of the farm adjoining the churchyard, lingers all that peculiar charm and- old-time peacefulness and rusticity; the duck pond is a survival of the moat which formerly surrounded it. Here the ducks and geese disport, birds sing in the trees and hedgerows, the turkey- cock (whose name – Turk – is no misnomer) gabbles defiantly at our intrusion, a swarm of crows wheel and circle high above the roofs and weather-beaten tower, even the implements, strewn about in random confusion amongst the nettles and other weeds, are all characteristic of old time.

Vine Cottage, situated at the east end of straggling Fenton, is another interesting and picturesque feature: a rough-hewn timbered structure, retaining its thatched roof, overhanging eaves, and leaded-paned windows. The grape, from whence it receives its name, ripens under its eaves; trailing plants, fruiting ivy, woodbine, and old English flowers, cling tenaciously about the crevices of its walls.

In springtime, when sunlight gilds and shadows flicker, birds trill their sweetest lays, and flowers shed delicious fragrance, ‘tis, indeed, a charming old-world picture. The structure has undergone slight alterations; the original building dates from Tudor days, evidences of a moat which, in the past, surrounded it can still be traced.

* There appears to be no account of a market held here.

VINE COTTAGE, CHURCH FENTON

The interior, with ingle nook, and primitive posts, beams, and joists, is replete with age and imagery; every object the eye rests upon, in the farmstead and large orchard adjoining, is full of rustic beauty and old- world sleepiness. The weather-beaten gnarled trees, twisting hedgerows, and the obsolete farm domestic utensils, thrown carelessly into such picturesque grouping, are all pregnant with an odour of the past; apart from which is that sweet commingling of vocal sound from bird or fowl arousing pleasant reminisces of other homesteads and days gone by.

 

A mile or so south-east of Church Fenton is Little Fenton, a small hamlet; Hall Garth, a moated site, is, perhaps, the only remaining vestige here of other days. The village folk say there are ghosts still existing hereabouts: at the house yonder in the fields some unearthly visitant, whose spirit cannot rest, wanders in the lonely hours between night and morning; uncanny noises are heard, pots are at times banged about, doors flung open, and window blinds unwind without visible aid, mysteriously – so the credulous womenfolk assert and firmly believe.

Onward, through fen and dyke-land, down wide green lanes, shut in by deep ditches on either hand, and past swampy patches of unreclaimed ground, where aged trunks of gnarled willows stand forth in the twilight, gaunt and spectre-like, here, by the wayside, is Fenton Grange, built in 1766, on the site of a more ancient structure. Beyond is Fenton Lodge, a very old foundation. Half a mile east we reach Biggin Grange: here we obtain many glimpses and touches of a past age. The house is of two periods, the new portion dates back a little over a century, the other to the Tudor period.

This Grange is also famed for its ghost, in the form of a mysterious lady, attired in the costume of the seventeenth century – rich brocaded silk – which, an occupant informed us, could oft-times be distinctly heard rustling, as the spirit wandered to and fro in the silent hours of night. We were shown into the room where this eerie visitant was usually heard, who, if not disturbed whilst wandering, caused very little commotion; on the contrary, if interfered with, the ghost ‘takes on’ and raves about (for a benighted spirit) most strangely.

Many years ago, the farmer then dwelling at the Grange returned home late from Cawood, in a rather jocular mood, having taken a ‘wee drappie too much speerit,’ and, being thus full of courage, began to mock and imitate the unearthly visitant, but he was so furiously assailed that he never again ventured to disturb the wanderings of the uncanny one…

‘The Old Kingdom of Elmet’, Bogg. E, John Sampson, York, 1904