Author: Andy Turner

The Woodside Woodison

From John and Ted Lancefield

Collected by Francis Collinson, Aldington, 24th June 1942

Francis Collinson Manuscript Collection COL/1/31

Roud 21873

COL-1-31 The Woodside WoodisonDownload

The only entries for this song in the Roud Index are for this version – in other words the song was never collected from anyone other than John and Ted Lancefield and, to date, no printed copy – for example on a broadside ballad sheet – has surfaced. The song tells of the events of 21st and 22nd December 1894, when a large number of ships were lost in the North Sea, and many more were battered, as a severe storm hit the North of England, Scotland, Ireland, and continental Europe. Provincial newspapers for Saturday 22nd December report on the damage caused in their locality, and further abroad:

THE STORM.

At Bradford the storm was the most destructive on record, enormous damage being done to property in all parts of the district, dozens of buildings having been unroofed and shop fronts blown in. Three trams were overturned in the streets, and one steam tram had the top compartment blown off. One fatality only is recorded.

The terrible westerly gale has been severely felt at Liverpool and the Mersey is in a more turbulent state than has been known for some years. Owing to the wholesale interruptions of telegraphic and telephonic communications reports are much delayed, but it has been ascertained that a schooner was sunk at the mouth of the river, and it Is feared that all hands have been lost.

(Exeter Flying Post)

THE STORM.

HOUSE AND SHOP BLOWN DOWN.

A large house and shop belonging to Mr Wm. T. Atkinson, builder, of Reed-street, in Lister-street, in course of erection, was blown down about nine o’clock this morning.

NORTHALLERTON DISTRICT.

A terrific gale is blowing at Northallerton, with drenching rain. Great damage has been done to shop and house windows having been blown in. Two very narrow personal escapes occurred when the gale was at its height by chimney posts crashing through the house roofs. The railway station roof was much damaged, and the waiting-room window was blown in. The telegraph wires are snapped and several country roads are blocked by fallen trees. The high wall of the National School at Northallerton was blown down. The rivers Swale and Ure are flooded.

(Hartlepool Northern Daily Mail)

The Shields Daily News wrote that the storm had stopped telegraphic communication between Tyneside and other parts of the country; roofs, slates and chimney pots had suffered at Shields; many chimney stacks had been swept at Carlisle; while “much havoc has been done in the Clyde ship-building yards”. The article in the Edinburgh Evening Dispatch was headed

THE STORM.

FACTORIES BLOWN DOWN.

LOSS OF LIFE.

DESTRUCTION OF TELEGRAPH WIRES.

The Kentish newspapers do not appear to have paid the storm much heed at this point (although The Echo, published in London, noted that a goods train on the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway had been derailed during the storm). However in the new year worries were being expressed over the fate of the Woodside, a collier brig that operated out of Folkestone. The Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald for 5th January 1895 reported that

Grave fears are entertained for safety of the brig Woodside, of this port. The vessel is considerably overdue. She sailed about two days before Christmas, and would, in the natural course of events, have encountered the full force of the great gale, which played such havoc on both sea and land. But there are hopes. The stout vessel has a splendid master in Captain Milton—a man of unflinching bravery and much resource. It may that the vessel is disabled, and drifting in the wide expanse of the North Sea. However, we will all earnestly hope for the best. Down at the Fishermen’s Bethel on Sunday evening last prayers were offered for the safety of the crew.

The following week brought no further news of the ship’s fate. This article appeared in the Kentish Express, 12th January 1895:

SUPPOSED FOUNDERING OF A FOLKESTONE BRIG.

A gloom has been cast over the eastern quarter of Folkestone by the disappearance of the Woodside, brig, belonging to the port. The Woodside left Sunderland on Thursday, December 20th, with a cargo of coal, and she must have encountered the dreadful gales which raged a few days after in the North Sea, and in which 22 smacks were lost. The Woodside was spoken by a Whitstable vessel on the day after she sailed, and the captain reported all well, that he expected a sharp passage up and to be home in time for his Christmas dinner. The captain’s name was Milton, he resided with his wife in Fenchurch-street, Folkestone, and was 58 years of age. He had followed the sea from his 11th year, and was mate of the Tricky Wee, a Folkestone vessel which was shipwrecked on the Yorkshire coast on Boxing Day 1885. Captain Milton bore the reputation of an excellent seaman, and had a share in the Woodside. The other owners were Mr. Francis, coal merchant; Mr. Franks, sail maker; and Miss Pearson, landlady of the True Briton Hotel. The vessel was not insured. There were eight men on board, three of whom were married. The mate’s name was Wooderson, and his wife is left in peculiarly distressing circumstances. She has two young children, and is in a delicate state of health, and has moreover been seized with paralysis in both legs. The owners, having given up all hope of seeing the vessel again, have this week paid the wages of the crew to their relatives. An appeal will be made to the public on their behalf. Among the men who were on board the Woodside was a Dover man, well known in Folkestone as well as in the sister port as “Dover Jim”. This man has been singularly unfortunate. He sailed to Sunderland in a Dover vessel in October, and there met with an accident and broke his leg. He was taken to a hospital and remained there until December, when he was discharged. Being unable to get a berth he became destitute, and Captain Milton kindly gave him a passage to Folkestone so that he could get to Dover. Another passenger of the same class was a Swede, whom Captain Milton was also assisting back to Dover.

The same week, the Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald provided further details:

LOSS OF THE BRIG WOODSIDE.

HELP NEEDED FOR TRE RELATIVES OF THE CREW.

The anxiety expressed last week for the safety of the crew of the brig Woodside, of this port, have been deepened by the non-arrival of the vessel during the past few days. From careful and

EXHAUSTIVE ENQUIRIES

that I have instituted, I learn that the Woodside (179 tons register), Ieft Sunderland for Folkestone with a cargo of coal on Decembe5 20th. She carried a crew of seven, including a captain, mate, two able seamen, and lads. I am sorry to state that, after allowing for possibilities, I am compelled to come to the conclusion that the Woodside is numbered amongst the lost. In this opinion I am supported by the most experienced of our sailors, and other authorities. Yet there is still left

A SPARK OF HOPE

The vessel may be blown away or dismasted in the wide expanse of the North Sea. This is the only glimmer of hope. True it is faint, but still it is—hope. In the ordinary course of events the Woodside must have encountered the full force of the hurricane which blew with such terrific force on the night of Friday and Saturday morning previous to Christmas Day. Twenty-eight vessels in all left the port of Sunderland on the same day as the Woodside, and a comparatively small number of these have reached their destinations. The Woodside on the Friday night “spoke” a schooner named the Stephen and Sarah, belonging to Whitstable, and signalled in answer to enquiries that they

EXPECTED A RAPID RUN.

It was now that the gale struck the vessels, and they parted, the schooner hugging he land, and the brig making for the open sea. On the following morning the wind and sea were, to one who weathered the storm, simply awful – past the conception of those who live on land. Since that date nothing has been heard of the Folkestone vessel. Three of the men are married, viz., Capt. Milton (who is in his 58th year), the mate Wooderson, and Cotterell, a seaman. Naturally, the relatives are in a state of great anxiety. I called on Mrs. Milton,

THE CAPTAIN’S WIFE.

The good woman lives in a humble abode at 13, Fenchurch-street, and her home is a picture of cleanliness and order. Although others give up all hope, yet Mrs. Milton clings to the belief that the vessel will yet return to port. The good lady is bearing up well, although her face betokens the mental strain through which she is passing. Her family of sons and daughters are for the most part grown up. “Yes,” said Mrs. Milton, “my husband is one of the best that ever drew this world’s breath,. and after all these years I cannot but think he will arrive home safe and sound. He nearly lost his life once, and that was when the Trixie Wee foundered at sea, on December 26th, 1886. With the exception of this, he has had no misfortune befall him in his long career.” “I am much obliged to you for calling,” said Mrs. Milton, as I bade her good morning, “but I shall keep on hoping to the last.” The case of the mate’s wife is

SAD AND DISTRESSING.

Mrs. Wooderson lives now at Foord. She is very poor, has two children, and the family at any moment may be added to. Moreover, the woman is paralysed in both her legs. Add to all this the mental agony that is now cast upon her by the supposed loss of her breadwinner, and her sad lot will create a feeling of pity in the stoniest heart. The owners of the vessel, which is not insured, have attended to the poor woman’s immediate wants, but

HELP—AND THAT SOON—

I feel sure will be forthcoming to meet the needs of this very sad case. Enough! The cry of the little ones and the anguish of the mother appeal to you with greater force than any words of mine. The remaining married man is the seaman Cotterell. His parents have  abandoned hope for their eldest son, now 24 years of age. His father is the proprietor of the ham and beef establishment at the bottom of High-street. Strange to say Mr. Cotterell has another son that follows the sea, and he sailed from London in the sailing vessel Via, which left the Thames on the day previous to the Woodside leaving Sunderland, so that the two vessels must have passed each other. Mr. Cotterell allowed me to peruse a letter which he had received from his son on reaching the northern port. Therein he gives a description of the gale, which their vessel rode through. “It was terrific,” he says, “and we were compelled to hove to for 40 hours under close reeftopsail. Our sails were blown to ribbons.”

The other members were of the crew were lads, and some of these helped to support their parents. On the vessel were two passengers, who worked their way homewards. One of them is known as “Dover Jim,” and the other is a Swede. The former, three months ago on a voyage to the north, broke his leg, and had just been discharged from the hospital. Being penniless, Capt. Milton gave him a passage home. Further particulars will be placed before the public shortly, and in the meantime I trust my readers will render assistance where it is urgently required. We, who sit around the fireside in comfort and ease, can at least let our hearts go out towards those who “go down to the sea in ships” and bring for us through  the “great  waters,” that which supplies us with warmth and comfort. The sailors in the colliers that trade from this part—as with others-have experienced terrible times of late, and out of the gratitude that we owe them, let us think of those who are now bowed down with grief and anguish, and at least express the hope that whatever their fate they ultimately

“May reach that port when life is o’er
Where billows break and surges swell no more.”

The following is a full list of the crew:-Henry Milton (master), Jessie Wooderson (mate), John McKay and William Baker (able seamen), Benjamin Cotterell and Alexander Smith (ordinary seamen), Charles Woollett (boy), and James Bachelor (passenger).

Elsewhere in the same newspaper, further details were provided of the charitable appeal:

a subscription list has been opened at the National Provincial Bank, and that contributions may be paid there, or to Mr. Councillor Peden, Sandgate-road. The case is a sad one, and calls for a generous exercise of the virtue of charity. We heard yesterday one of the Woodside boats was picked ap at Salthouse, near Cromer, by a coastguardman who is a Folkestone man.

A few days later, hope was fading, the Folkestone Express, Sandgate, Shorncliffe & Hythe Advertiser for 16th January advising that “There is now unhappily no doubt that this vessel foundered in the recent disastrous gale in the North Sea on Saturday, December the 22nd, and that the crew were drowned. No particulars of the disaster will ever be known.” The article also quoted at greater length from the letter sent by the surviving Cotterell brother to his father:

The young man, Benjamin Cotterell, was a son of Mr. Cotterell, of the Ham and Beef Warehouse, High Street. He has another son who during the heavy gale was in great peril in another ship, not far away from the spot where the Woodside is supposed to have foundered. Writing on board the schooner Via, from Gateshead-on-Tyne, on Boxing Day, to his father, he says: “We arrived here safely on Monday evening, after having a fearful time of it. We left London on Wednesday, blowing a gale, and got out clear of the river, when the forepeak halyards came down, and we had to put back to Sheerness with the head of the sail split. Left again on Thursday morning, and went into Harwich in the evening. Left Friday morning, and got down off Flamborough Head on Saturday morning at four o’clock, when that terrible gale struck us. It had been blowing a moderate gale all night. We were blown right off the land—blew all our head sails to ribbons and two of the head stays with them. At last we got her hove to, with only a mainsail on her, and oil bags over the side. I very nearly lost the run of my mess, owing to the lower topsail. We lay hove to for about 40 hours, seas breaking aboard all the time. I think it was a lot worse than last year. I was over to Sunderland yesterday, was told the Woodside left on Thursday. I hope she came all right out of it.”

Then on 19th January, this appeared in the same newspaper:

THE WOODSIDE–This vessel has been posted In the Gazette as  lost. Information has reached Folkestone that one of her boats was washed ashore near Cromer, on the coast of Norfolk, leaving no doubt as to the fate of the vessel and her crew.1

A memorial service was held for the crew on Wednesday 23rd January, at which “the Folkestone band of ringers rang a muffled peal, consisting of touches of grandsire triples”. The offertory at this service raised £12 2s 6d for the Woodside fund.

Stephen Penfold, the Mayor of Folkestone, used the pages of the Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald, 19th January 1895, to endorse the fundraising appeal on behalf of the crew’s widows and children. His letter mentioned that “The mate leaves a widow and two young children, another being daily expected; this is the most distressing case, as the poor woman is very ill”. And the newspaper was able to provide an update on this:

Since the letter was put in type we have been informed that the mate’s widow has given birth to an infant, and although the mother is very ill, hopes are entertained of her recovery. This adds another pathetic element to the cause, and supplies a “touch of nature” which must immensely strengthen the appeal which the worthy Mayor has now taken up as the head of the municipality.

Sadly, Jesse Wooderson’s wife Mary died. Their daughter, Jessie, was baptised at All Souls, Cheriton on 10th March 1895. Touchingly her full name was recorded as Jessie Mary Woodside Wooderson.

Contributions to the appeal came from many sources, and were duly reported in the local newspapers: The Conservative politician William Pleydell-Bouverie, Lord Radnor (his title had been Viscount Folkestone from 1869 to 1889, before succeeding to the earldom) donated £5 5s; the Shipwrecked Mariner’s Society donated £10; the Salvation Army gave £4; landlords of local hostelries donated money – probably raised from a collection in the pubs; numerous private citizens contributed small amounts; and £16 1s was raised by a concert. Folkestone Football Club organised a benefit match with the Royal Scots Fusiliers, and readers of the Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald were urged to buy a sixpenny ticket, whether or not they planned to attend the match.

On 20th March George Peden reported via the Folkestone Express, Sandgate, Shorncliffe & Hythe Advertiser that the fund was now closed.

The net amount remaining, after deducting cash advances made to Mrs. Wooderson during her illness, funeral expenses, arrears of rent, etc. was £265.

There were three little Wooderson orphans left. Mrs. Amos, mother of the late Mrs. Wooderson, has taken two of the children, and Mrs. Wooderson, mother of the late Mr. Wooderson, has taken one child.

[Although in the 1901 census, the now 6 year old Jessie was living with her uncle Walter Wooderson (a pilot) and his wife Josephine, at 16 Rosendale Road, Folkestone]

The money subscribed has been placed in the Folkestone Savings Bank, and will be paid out in small weekly sums, so that it will thereby last several years.

It now only remains to me, on behalf of these hapless women and children, to tender my most sincere thanks to the Folkestone public who so generously responded to the appeal.

The sums apportioned were as follows:

  • Mrs Milton and Mrs Amos – £80 each
  • Mrs Cotterell and Mrs Wooderson – £50 each
  • Mrs Baker – £5

It seems likely that the Lancefield brothers’ song was written as part of the fund-raising activities – hastily composed verses printed and sold locally, as the last verse puts it, to “try and help the children and wives”. We can’t know how the brothers came by the song though – John would have been 13 at the time, and Ted just 9, but one of their parents might have bought the song sheet. If they read the local newspapers they would surely have been aware of the tragedy.

It’s also unclear why the name Wooderson (mistranscribed as “Woodison” by Francis Collinson) should have become attached to the title of the song. Perhaps it was simply that the fate of Jesse Wooderson’s family seemed to be the most desperate, and attracted the most public attention.

  1. Folkestone Express, Sandgate, Shorncliffe & Hythe Advertiser, 26th January 1895 ↩︎

John and Ted Lancefield

John Alfred George Lancefield, 1881-1959

Edward Ernest Lancefield, 1885-1954

Francis Collinson collected a handful of songs from John and Ted Lancefield in June and July 1942. At the time they were employed as gardeners at Goldenhurst, Noël Coward’s country home near Aldington. Collinson and Coward were both involved in musical theatre – indeed Collinson had been one of the conductors on the original cast recording of Noël Coward’s musical Operette in 1938. Francis Collinson’s home near Bethersden was less than a dozen miles from Goldenhurst, so it would be surprising if they had not socialised from time to time. Knowing of Collinson’s interest in hunting out old country songs, if Noël Coward knew that his gardeners were singers he would have no doubt have drawn this to Collinson’s attention. Or it may even be that Collinson, on a visit to Goldenhurst, heard a gardener singing and proceeded to investigate.

The Lancefield brothers were both born at Crundale. Their parents were William, an agricultural labourer, and Ann, née Coombs. John was born on 17th August 1881 and apparently baptised at St Mary’s, Crundale the same day. Ted was born 15th April 1885, and baptised on 14th June.

By 1901 the family had moved to Cherry Gardens, Aldington. Ted was living with his parents and, like his father, was an agricultural labourer. John was recorded as “General serv agricultural”, working for John Bailey, farmer, at Falconhurst, Hurst (a couple of miles South of Aldington, and actually very close to Goldenhurst). At the next census in 1911, and in 1921, John and Ted were both living with their mother, Ann – now a widow – at Peacock Cottage, Aldington. Having previously been listed as general agricultural workers, in the 1921 census John’s occupation was given as Cowman, and Ted’s as Horseman, both working for Wheatley Bros Farmers. The Wheatleys farmed at Goldenhurst Farm – Peacock Cottage was 2 minutes’ walk from the farmhouse, and was almost certainly part of the farm estate. Ann died in 1936, but the brothers remained in the house, with one other resident, Dorothy Hills, who was listed as “Housekeeper” in the 1939 Register (presumably for Noël Coward, not for the brothers!). John and Ted were both now shown as “Gardener Heavy Worker”.

Noël Coward had found Goldenhurst (now a Grade II listed building) in 1926 after he placed an advert in the Kentish Times. He rented the property at first, but purchased it in 1927, carrying out a considerable amount of rebuilding and renovation work. The property had extensive gardens – in 1956, in a letter to Laurence Olivier explaining why he was selling Goldenhurst and moving abroad, he stated that he employed “five gardeners all year round”. The Lancefields presumably worked for him as gardeners from the beginning of his time there.

During the Second World War Goldenhurst was requisitioned by the Army, and Coward moved to White Cliffs, a rented house at St Margaret’s Bay. But he returned to Goldenhurst in December 1951, and set about repairing the damage done during four years of Army occupation. Coward’s secretary and biographer Cole Lesley remembered it thus:

Noël swung into action immediately, and so did everybody else. The next four months were beset with the same frustrations we had endured when moving in to White Cliffs; permits were still necessary for repairs and alterations, and the Army’s depredations since the requisitioning in 1940 had reduced the lovely house to a sorry state. Patience Erskine, kind friend of many years, had occupied Noel’s suite of rooms with her two dogs since the Army had finally evacuated, and that was all. Patience had taken care of the very large house, the garden and the grounds—she is a gardener by nature and from deep-rooted love of it—but the thought of getting at least thirty rooms shipshape from their stark and war-scarred condition was daunting.

No matter, I was as excited and eager as Noël at the thought of ‘coming home’. Goldenhurst really was home, which White Cliffs never quite had been, and we would end our days there we thought. Patience moved into a caravan parked near the pond until the pleasant rooms over the garage were converted into a flat for her, and we all worked with a will. The only people who didn’t bestir themselves were the bestowers of permits, until Noël became incensed by the delays.
[ … ]

The permits were granted (though far from liberal) and Patience moved into her flat— known as The Lodge from now on—where one could rely on good talk, an abundant supply of Scotch whisky and a loving welcome. She now ruled her kingdom as head gardener, Old John and his brother Ted her lieutenants, soon joined by a Kentish lad, John Brooks. Young John adored Patience, and indeed helped and served her faithfully until he died too young, twenty years later. For the next weeks we all mucked in, including Noël at weekends, wielding paintbrushes, staggering under the weight of innumerable books, and hanging pictures. 1

Ted died on 17th January 1954. His obituary in the Kentish Express, 29th January 1954, reported that “The funeral took place at the Parish Church [Aldington] of Mr. Ernest (Ted) Lancefield, who lived at Peacock Bungalow since 1908. Before retirinq through ill-health, he worked at Goldenhurst for 36 years and his employers included Mr. Noël Coward for whom he was a gardener. From 1914 to about 1946, he was a Special Constable”.

John survived his brother by 5 years. He was discovered dead in his garden on 11th May 1959, but a post-mortem confirmed that he had died of natural causes. The Kentish Express 22nd May 1959 reported on his funeral:

PLAYWRIGHT REMEMBERED HIS GARDENER

A large wreath of red roses from the famous playwright, Noël Coward was among flowers sent to Friday’s funeral of Mr. John A.G. Lancefield, of Peacock Bungalow, Aldington, who for several years was Mr. Coward’s gardener when the playwright lived at “Goldenhurst”.

For 31 years, and during two wars, Mr. Lancefield was a special constable, resigning in 1945.

As well as noting songs from John and Ted, Francis Collinson records that they gifted to him their collection of broadside ballad sheets. In an article in Kent County Journal, 6 (4), July -Sep 1945, p81 he wrote

The Kentish name for a broadsheet, which is still remembered and used, is a ballet (to rhyme with mallet). These ballets were hawked through the streets of towns and villages all over the country at a penny each, and sung or “cried” by their vendors to any old tune that happened to fit. The most extensive collection of them I have come across was in the possession of the brothers John and Ted Lancefield, of Adlington [sic]; and I have to record with gratitude their kindness in making a gift of them to me, for these old broadsheets are treasure to the song collector. One of these is reproduced below. It deals with a common subject of the broadsheet poets—shipwreck, and it is quite probable that the story was a true one, or at least had some basis in local fact. The Lancefields could not remember the tune to which it was sung, but I did get some other songs from them complete with their tunes—including one with the intriguing title of “The Folkstone Murderer.” The ‘shipwreck ballad’ generally appeals to its hearers in the last verse or in the refrain to help the widows and orphans of the disaster (here the appeal is to the Deity), but it is doubtful if any of the proceeds of its sale ever found their way to this charity!

The ballad which was reproduced in the article is ‘The Wreck of the Northfleet’ (Roud 1174), which was indeed based on an actual event. And the Lancefields had another shipwreck ballad in their repertoire, ‘The Woodside’, which commemorated the loss of a Folkestone vessel and its crew in December 1894.

Songs

  1. Cole Lesley, The Life of Noël Coward, London:Cape, 1976, p308. ↩︎

Alfred Harding

Alfred John Harding, 1869-1946

Francis Collinson noted ‘The Big Plum Pudding’ in Great Chart, 28th June 1944, from a singer whose name he recorded only as “Harding”. If the singer had been female, he would almost certainly have recorded her name as Mrs or Miss Harding so, on this assumption, the singer is most likely to have been Alfred J. Harding who in 1939 lived at 2 Leacon Cottages, Great Chart.

He was born at Maidstone on 26th December 1868, and baptised the following day at Holy Trinity, Maidstone. His parents were Alfred Thomas Harding and Annie, née Simmonds; their residence was given as Ramsgate, and their occupation as “Strolling Player”. In 1871 the census found them at Station Road, Frindsbury, North Aylesford, the parents’ occupation listed as “Theatrical”.

Ten years on, in 1881, at the time of the census, they were lodging at the Wheat Sheaf Inn, Bexhill, in Sussex. Alfred Senior appears to have remarried. His occupation is now given as Photographer; his wife Ellen is listed as “Photographer’s wife”; while 13 year old Alfred is shown as “Photographer’s son” – presumably this means that he and Ellen were assisting in his father’s business.

At the age of 22, on 14th June 1891, Alfred married Eliza Ann Ifield, at St. James’ church, Egerton. The occupation of both him and his father was given as “Marrionette Performer”.

In 1901 they were living at Liverton Street, Lenham, with 3 sons and a daughter (their eldest son, also Alfred, aged 9, appears to be living with his grandparents in Egerton). Alfred appears to have given up the entertainment business – or perhaps it was simply that it was no longer his main source of income; his occupation is now listed as “Ordinary agricultural labourer”.

Eliza died in 1909, but Alfred quickly remarried: on 26th July 1909 he was married at St Mary the Virgin, Ashford, to 22 year old Mabel Harriett Maria Wilson. The 1911 census shows them living at 16 Rugby Gardens, Ashford. There were now 8 children in the household: 5 from Alfred’s first marriage, a new baby, and 2 shown as stepson and stepdaughter (presumably illegitimate, since Mabel was listed as a spinster when marrying Alfred). Both Alfred and his 19 year old son William were listed as “Marionette showman”.

Alfred’s activities as a marionette performer led to at least one brush with the law. The Kentish Express, 28th December 1907, reported on a case at Ashford Police Court concerning a performance at The Foresters’ Arms, South Ashford (literally a two minute walk from his home in Rugby Gardens) on the night of 25th and 26th November. Walter Crittenden, the landlord, was summoned for using his premises for a stage play without a licence, while Alfred Harding was summoned for presenting the stage play. PC Bryerley, who visited the pub on the two nights in question, stated that 2d was charged for admission; forty people were present, including some children, and intoxicating liquors were served. On the second night Sergeant Payne, accompanied by Sergeant Fowle and Detective McGovern, “went upstairs to the long room, where there was a small stage with a drop scene. A performance by marionettes was being given”. The sergeant proceeded to give a summary of the plot of the play – it concerned a man who had left his home in Switzerland to fight against the Peruvians (laughter in court), saved the life of his commanding officer and was raised to the rank of major (renewed laughter), but when the officer’s wife was murdered “eventually the crime was brought home to the dark villain (roars of laughter)”. The case hinged on whether a marionette performance should be classed as a “stage play”. Alfred Harding “said he did not have a licence as he did not think he required one for a marionette performance. He had performed, he added, in many places in Kent and had never received a complaint”. Mr Bracher, appearing for the defence, brought up various cases in support of the defendants’ plea of not guilty, and asked where the line should be drawn – if a marionette show was in breach of the 1843 Act, might not also the performance of a monologue, or a reading from Shakespeare? “He failed to see any difference between a gentleman giving a Shakespearean reading and the defendant, who with his dollies portrayed the wonderful events so vividly described by the police sergeant”. The lawyer said that his client “had performed during the last twenty-one years in Kent, Surrey and Sussex, and had lately been employed by Lady Harris at Belmont”. The report continued

The defendant, Alfred Harding, then went into the witness box and described his marionette show, mentioning that he started when a little boy, learning it off his father. The witness caused some amusement by producing one of the puppets, holding it high in order to show how the arms and legs moved. – Mr. Bracher: They have no life? – Witness: They are made of wood, the only life they had was when they belonged to the tree.

 The magistrates dismissed the case against both defendants – “they did not think for one moment think the defendants willingly acted against the law”, and “As regards the complaint against Harding no case had been made out”. They did however express the opinion “that this performance should not take place on licensed premises”.

The 1921 census lists the family at The Leacon, Great Chart. There are now twelve in the household, including another five children born since the previous census. The three older sons are working for local farmers, while Alfred is now an Auxiliary Post Man. In 1939, his occupation is “General Labourer Retired”. He and Mabel are living at 2 Leacon Cottages, Great Chart. Their youngest son, Leslie, is working as a Cowman, and still living with his parents.

Alfred died on 15th December 1946.

Songs

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