Rowley Regis – Page 6 – rowleyregislosthamlets.co.uk

The Hailstone 2

It was lovely to see that my post on the Hailstone attracted so much interest. Better still, a couple of people on the ‘I remember Blackheath and Rowley Regis’ Facebook page were able to add more information which is very interesting, thank you to those concerned.

Thank you to Darwin Baglee posted this article, more about the Devil’s connection!

Robert Faulkner added a lot of information about the legend concerning the devil or, in this case, the gods hurling boulders from Clent, saying

‘The story as I recall was that Thor stood upon Clent and threw a hailstone at Woden. Woden dodged the stone and it embedded in Rowley Hill. The story interested me because Clent is one of the very few place names in the area of Viking Origin. There were a lot of confrontations between Anglo-Saxons and Vikings in this area. Unlike the rest of Mercia it did not fall to the Vikings.’

Robert then found this article about the legend, taken from an article by the great local historian Carl Chinn which appeared in the Birmingham Mail in 2008, link below.

“THERE is an ancient legend that once, when the Anglo Saxons still worshipped the old gods, Thunor, better known as Thor, bestrode the Clent Hills.

Red of hair and beard, and boasting great strength, he was the god of weather and is recalled in Thursday.

Quickly raised to anger, Thunor was a powerful deity. Wielding a mighty hammer he hurled thunderbolts from mountain peak to mountain peak when he was enraged.

The story goes that he fought with his father, Woden, who is recalled in Wednesday, as well as in the Black Country place names of Wednesbury and Wednesfield.

One-eyed, all knowing and draped in his cloak and hood, Woden strode easily across the land when the weather was fine – but when it was stormy he careered across the dark sky at the head of a clamorous wild hunt.

During the struggle between the two mighty gods, Thunor is said to have hurled a massive boulder at Woden, who had planted himself upon Turner’s Hill in Rowley.

The outcome of the terrible fight is lost in the fog of mythology, but Thunor’s boulder came to be called Hailstone and so gave another name to Turner’s Hill.”

Robert added “It is a little different to the legend I originally read, but the same basic story. It could be a folk memory of a real conflict. It was suggested that ‘Clatterbach’ Clent was named after a battle. Since the Stour there formed the Border between two Celtic Tribes, later between a Celtic tribe the Cornovi and the Saxons, then even later the Angles and the Saxon Hwicce, then there is the Viking origin of the name Clent. So there were probably numerous confrontations in that area. Thank you, Robert, very interesting.

This could take the name Turner’s Hill back even further into the mists of time, recent discussions on the Facebook page had recently indicated that the name was already in use in the 1300s.

Further research of my own has found a letter published in The Gentleman’s Magazine, in 1812 from a TH, describing a visit to a quarry at Rowley Regis. He says:

“I have inclosed to you a sketch (see Plate II) which I made a few days since. Of a quarry from whence the Rowley Ragstone is taken, of which stone this and some of the adjacent hills are chiefly composed, as it is to be found in most parts immediately under the surface of the ground. I made this sketch in profile of the quarry, to shew how the pillars inclined from the perpendicular. The situation of this quarry is at the top of a hill, and nearly equidistant from Dudley, Rowley Regis and Oldbury, not quite one mile and a half from the nearest of those places; the hill is long and steep on eah side, rising into different peaks, and their line of direction from Rowley is N.N.W; they command an extensive view of country in every direction.

The Hailstone, which is also a rock of Rowley rag stone, mentioned by Dr Plot in his History of Staffordshire, is to the North of this quarry, distant nearly one mile. The height of some of the columns represented in this sketch are from sixteen to eighteen feet, and the longest joints of the stone are from three feet three inches to three feet nine inches; the upper and under surface of the joints are generally flat: I have represented the outline of some of t hose surfaces to shew their angular form, in a separate compartment; their diameters are as follows: the stone A is 9 inches, the stone B 14”, C 13”, D 15”, F 9”; at E is only the part of a stone, it corresponds with E in the sketch, it is 30inches in diameter, and a part of it being hid by other columns, preventing my observing the shape of its other angles.

Descending the hill and not half a mile distant, is another quarry of the same kind of stone, the level of which is more than 100 feet below the former; this quarry presents columns on a much larger scale; some of them appeared to me about two or three yards in diameter, more or less, as I did not measure them; they did not appear so regular as those in the upper quarry, which perhaps may be owing to the want of a sufficient excavation to display their lengths; this may lead to suppose with reference to the columns at E, that those columns increase in magnitude as they approach the bas of the hill; but this is mere conjecture. The exterior colour of the columns is of a light brown but, when broke, the inside of the stone is of a grey, or nearly black and of a close compact body. Yours etc. TH”

The quarry he was describing must have been one of the earliest quarries in Rowley. A copy of his sketch is shown here.

The sketches shown below are from a Mining Review and Journal of Geology, published in about 1837. The first shows the Pearl Hill quarry in Rowley Regis and I have seen other references which imply that this was the name of the first quarry. The second sketch shows the Hailstone, from a slightly different angle to the previous pictures I have seen and which gives a better impression of the depth of the Hailstone. These pictures are noted as having been published in a History of Birmingham and its Vicinity.

It seems probable that the first article also describes the Pearl Hill quarry and this picture is labelled, very faintly, Pearl HIll quarry and there is some resemblance between the two pictures. Can anyone work out where this was, somewhere half a mile above the Hailstone? Perhaps the first excavations in what was later called the Turner’s Hill Quarry? Or closer to Oakham?

Another image of the Hailstone in the same journal.

An article in this journal about the geology of the Rowley Rag says:

“Rowley Rag appears in several places externally, assuming striking and bold configurations; and presents itself to the geologist in a questionable form. It is not a stratum originally deposited either above or below the limestone, for neither of these two substances is ever found to range or correspond in position with the other. It is obviously not diluvial, for it bears no trace in its composition of the horizontal action of water; neither is it primitive for coal is found extending beneath it. Of course, its formation, in the places it now occupies, must have been posterior to that of the coal. The only rational conclusion, therefore, is that it was ejected in a fluid state, from the bowels of the earth, through a chasm opened by the force of elastic vapour.The action of fire is also observable in the appearance of coal which, in the immediate neighbourhood of basalt, is completely changed in quality,; decomposed; reduced into a state resembling old exhausted coke.

In fact, careful analysis and comparison have shown that the basalt of this district is identical with the lava which is known to issue from volcanoes at the periods of their eruptions; and the various forms it exhibits when exposed, may, probably, be referable to the greater or less rapidity with which it underwent the process of cooling. Of these appearances, the most remarkable is the columnar, so perfectly developed in the Giant’s Causeway, in the north of Ireland and distinctly, though less regularly, discernible in some of the quarries of this neighbourhood.”

One has to remember that this was written nearly 200 years ago and that scientific and geological science has moved on enormously since then. And I have no knowledge of geology. But it is interesting to consider from this that the division of the Rowley Rag into these columns, (which are still apparent in the photograph of the quarry which I included in the last article) does bear some comparison with sites such as the Giant’s Causeway. The link below is to a leaflet published in about 2010 about Rowley Regis which has a photograph showing the columnar structure within one of the quarries. You will need to rotate the leaflet to seee the picture the right way up.

Apologies for these long-winded quotations but they do seem relevant to the formation of the Hailstone. There is even more which I have not included. It’s interesting to think that the Hailstone was an early tourist attraction!

Links:

https://www.thefreelibrary.com/Mythological+battles+and+council+housing+in+Weoley%27s+history.-a0179344570

Click to access rowley_leaflet_2010.pdf

The Hailstone

The scene our ancestors would have known in and around Rowley village would have been very different a couple of hundred years ago, it changed enormously during the Industrial Revolution and has changed again, almost beyond recognition, since I grew up there in the 1950s and 60s. One sight which would have been familiar to local people in the past was ‘The Hailstone’ on Hailstone Hill and I do not mean the modern pub bearing that name!

The Hailstone was a curious natural rock formation, comprising blocks of Dolerite stone, and was probably left with large boulders tumbled around it due to Ice Age erosion when the Ice Age retreated. It was at one time thought to be a meteorite. The Hailstone was on Hailstone Hill, above Tippity and Cock Greens and could apparently be seen clearly from Clent before the contours of the hills were destroyed by quarrying. An impression of the size can be had from the sketch below which is based on an engraving by W W Baker in 1845.

Whites Directory of 1834 has this description:

“On the western side of the hills, and not far from the town, a compact mass of this stone, about 7 or 8 feet square, rises to the height of 8 or 9 feet above the summit, and from 50 to 60 feet from the base of the hill, which, from time immemorial, has been called the Hail Stone; the upper surface, though from its extreme hardness impenetrable to any tool, is worn perfectly smooth by time and the action of numberless feet of persons who have climbed upon it.

In removing one block near the Hail Stone, about 40 years since, an earthen vessel nearly full of Roman silver coins, some of which were of Antoninus and Faustina, was found deposited in the foundation of the wall. “

It was reported at the time that the pot had an opening at the top to allow coins to be posted in – a Roman piggy bank! Sadly the pot and the Roman coins were apparently removed for safekeeping and no trace of them can now be found.

Various stories were told locally of the Hailstone, including the legend that it could not be destroyed without the spilling of Anglo-Saxon blood, or so I was told by Reg Parsons who grew up on Turner’s Hill. And when the Hailstone was destroyed in 1879, as part of quarrying operations, two workmen were killed during the process, and local people thought that they were anglo-saxon by blood, thus fulfilling the old prophecy.

Dr. Plot, in his History of Staffordshire published in 1688, describes the rock on the Rowley Hills as being “as big and as high on one side as many church steeples are.” He relates that he visited the spot in the year 1680, accompanied by a land-surveyor, who, ten years before that time, had noticed that at this place the needle of the compass was turned six degrees from its due position. The influence which the iron in basaltic rocks has on the needle was not known at that period, and the Doctor makes two conjectures in explanation of the phenomenon observed. First, he says, ” there must be in these lands that miracle of Nature we call a lodestone;” and he adds, ” unless it come to pass by some old armour buried hereabout in the late civil war.” The sonorous property of the rock led him to conjecture “that there might be here a vault in which some great person of ancient times might be buried under this natural monument; but digging down by it as near as I could where the sound directed, I could find no such matter.”

The following description appeared in “A description of modern Birmingham” by Charles Pye , supposedly in 1908. I have included some of his less flattering comments about the church and the village itself.

“You proceed towards Kidderminster, until you arrive at the toll gate, two mile and a half distant, when the right hand road leads to this village where in all probability there are more Jews Harps manufactured than in all Europe beside.

The admirer of nature, (for no art has ever been practised here) may be gratified with various extensive and luxuriant views. There is not anything either in the church or in the village deserving of notice, but there is, not far distant, a rude rugged, misshapen mass of stone, which is situated on the summit of a hill, and projects itself several yards higher than the ground adjoining; it is by the inhabitants denominated Rowley Hail-Stone and when at a considerable distance from it, on the foot road from Dudley, it has the appearance of some considerable ruins.

From this spot the views are more extensive than can be easily imagined over a beautiful and romantic country, Birmingham being very visible.”

It seems rather odd that this description should have been published in 1908, as the Hailstone was removed in 1879. It is not often that one sees descriptions of this area as ‘beautiful and romantic’ or luxuriant by 1908, though extensive is undeniable. (The view over the valley from the top floor of the classroom building at the Grammar School below Hawes Lane was truly awe-inspiring and there were still some foundries operating at that time.) But other observers report, by 1908, the huge amount of industry, mines, quarries, furnaces, canals, railway lines and spoil heaps which despoiled most views in this area so I wonder whether this account was actually written much earlier, perhaps in 1808.

Another account appears in Stone Pillar Worship (Vol. vii., p. 383.) Date not known.

—The Rowley Hills-near Dudley, twelve in number, and each bearing a distinctive name, make up what may be called a mountain of basaltic rock, which extends for several miles in the direction of Hales Owen. From the face of a precipitous termination of the southern extremity of these hills rises a pillar of rock, known as the ” The Hail Stone.” I conjecture that the word hail may be a corruption of the archaic word holy, holy ; and that this pillar of rock may have been the object of religious worship in ancient times. The name may have been derived directly from the Anglo-Saxon Haleg stan, holy stone. It is about three quarters of a mile distant from an ancient highway called “The Portway,” which is supposed to be of British origin, and to have led to the salt springs at Droitwich. I have no knowledge of any other place bearing the name of Hail Stone, except a farm in the parish of West Fetton in Shropshire, which is called ” The Hail Stones.” No stone pillars are now to be found upon it: there is a quarry in it which shows that the sand rock lies there very near the surface.

This picture of the Hailstone gives a better impression of the size and appearance of the Hailstone within the landscape and accompanied the article above.

The artist for this drawing is unknown, Hailstone Farm is shown in the distance.

There are some other snippets about the Hailstone which I have found online, sources unfortunately not credited but included for interest.

“If you stand on the site of the Devil’s Footprints and look towards the Rowley Hills, Hailstone Hill comes into view. The Hailstone itself is long gone, demolished in 1879. The Hailstone was also associated with the Devil and was said to be cursed, there is a story that the Devil threw stones at the Rowley hills from Clent which landed on Hailstone Hill and formed the mighty Hailstone, a huge outcrop of basalt rock from which he could survey his kingdom. There are also tales of the Devils footprints being found in the vicinity of the Hailstone and the local quarries; some said it had to be destroyed because of its evil associations. When it was finally destroyed by dynamite in 1879 two men died in the process, fulfilling the curse of the Hailstone”

Here is another account of a similar phenomena.

“In the Black Country, in January 1855, cloven hoofmarks, similar to those of a deer, were found on the vertical walls and roofs of a number of pubs, starting with The Cross at Old Hill in Rowley Regis. Elizabeth Brown, landlady of The Lion pub, suggested a supernatural explanation for the mystery, telling a public meeting that ‘her house was mainly frequented by quarrymen and the tracks were nothing new to them. Similar hoofmarks were to be seen burnt into the rock at Pearl Quarry, on Timmins Hill, and trails of them led from that place to the Hailstone.’ Since the Rowley hoofmarks appeared nowhere but on the walls and roofs of pubs, however, it seems at least as likely that the Lion marks were made by local chapel ‘ranters’ who wanted to make a point about the pernicious effects of alcohol “.

So the name ‘Hailstone’ may have been a corruption of Holy Stone, it may have been used as a perch by the Devil and was regarded with awe and great superstition by local people. Anthony Page says in his book on Rowley that it had been removed by the summer of 1879 with festivities to celebrate the event. Frederick Wright of Hawes Lane, aged 30, was killed in February 1879 in the process of uprooting the rock and Benjamin Bate, of Cocks Green, aged 41, one of the last men to bore shot holes, was killed in December 1879. After the removal of the rock, a tramway incline was made in 1880, connecting the Hailstone quarry to the canal at Windmill End.

This photograph of the Hailstone Quarry, taken in the mid-1950s, gives an impression of how the Hailstone must have looked.

What an imposing sight the Hailstone must have been, how many millennia it towered over the local landscape, it is no wonder that there were so many stories about it – but at least we have drawings to help preserve the memory of it.

The Tippity Green Toll Road – an update

Further reading on this subject has brought me to a paragraph in J Wilson Jones’s book, published in 1950. He talks about the early road system around Rowley and says

“Let us consider the early roads from the early enclosure and pre-enclosure maps, knowing that a Manor of Rowley would be connected by the earliest of roads, being the all-important demesne. Then locate the toll gate houses, not the turnpike of the busy roads, but houses where toll or tax was paid, often situated near the Lord’s Mill [which was at Tippity Green]. We have the Rowley-Dudley Road through Knowle and Powke Lane as the only marked roads, both converging upon ‘Ye Brickhouse Estate’ [which Jones thought was located at Cock Green which was between Tippity Green and Knowle] . The Toll houses are again on Powke Lane at Yewtree Gate and near Tippity Green as Tippity Green Gate. The only other land marks on the 1821 map being Freeberry’s, Hailston Hill, Perry’s Lake and Hawes Hill.”

So my surmise in the last article that the Toll related to the new road from Perry’s Lake to Portway seems to be wrong. If Jones is correct, the Toll Road ran from an area known as Yew Tree on Powke Lane to Tippity Green, up what was then called Dog Lane, subsequently known as Doulton Road, (though I have been told that the canal bridge there is still called the Dog Lane Bridge on canal maps).

I have not been able to identify the map dated 1821 to which Jones refers. What is now called Yew Tree Lane and the public house called the Yew Tree is much higher up Powke Lane than the road Jones describes, but Yew Tree is clearly marked at the bottom of the lane on the map below . This extract from the first edition OS map, surveyed in the 1830s, shows the road which Jones says was a Toll Road and which I have marked in red.

The road to Portway may well have been built later by the quarry operators to facilitate the movement of their stone, and they did, after all, have plenty of material to build it with.

Always learning…

Reference: A History of the Black Country by J Wilson Jones, published c.1950.

The Tippity Green Turnpike

The 1851 Census shows that there was a Turnpike Gate in Tippity Green. The Gate Keeper Hannah Hadley, aged 34, was listed, along with her husband Samuel (35) who was a Nailer’s Tool Maker and their nine children. If the Toll Keeper’s cottage was like most tollhouses that you see, it would have been fairly crowded, though that appeared to have been true of most houses in this area.

I was not previously aware that there was a turnpike road in this area. From the census enumerator’s route, it was at the end of Tippity Green and just before Perry’s Lake.

This map is an extract from the OS First Edition, which had been surveyed in the period up to the early 1830s. The road from Tippity Green goes up Turner’s Hill, there is no road straight on to Portway from Perry’s Lake as shown in later maps, so perhaps the very straight wide road from Perry’s Lake to Portway at what became Four Ways was a new Toll Road. In which case there would have been another Toll House, presumably where it joined Portway, with Newbury Lane on the other side of the road leading on to Oldbury. It would have been a very convenient and much flatter improvement to the route, much to the benefit of industrial traffic and at least better off people would have been willing to pay a toll to avoid the hill.

Turnpikes were apparently usually set up to improve existing roads which parishes were struggling to maintain. They were roads administered by Trusts authorised by private Acts of Parliament, on which tolls were charged at gates. They first began in 1663 and gradually increased in numbers so that by 1820 over 1000 turnpike trusts controlled about 22,000 miles of road with 7000 or more gates. Mostly they followed the old roads up hill and down dale. But by the early 1800s, new turnpike roads were being planned along routes whhich had not previously existed. This may have been such a road.

I am now trying to track down more information about this, in the form of the Act of Parliament setting up the Trust or plans and documentation and have sent enquiries to local archives. This may take some little time so this is a teaser and I will keep you informed of any more information I find. Watch this space!

In the meantime, if anyone knows of any information about this turnpike, I would be very pleased to hear from you.

I have been unable to find another Toll House Keeper listed anywhere in the Portway area in the 1851 Census but it is possible that a different enumerator might have recorded only the main occupation of the husband.

It does occur to me that perhaps the new road from Springfield to Dudley might also have been a turnpike road, and, if so, there would have been a gate keeper’s cottage there, too. But that is pure speculation!

The windmill off Tippity Green, which is documented as being there for centuries, was also still marked on the earlier map, where Windmill Farm was later.

Incidentally, you can also see from this map that the road to Whiteheath from Rowley village goes past the church and then bends round in front of Rowley Hall (I am old enough to remember where Rowley Hall was!) and straight on to Throne Road and past what became known as Ramrod Hall Farm. There was no Hanover Road then. When the quarrying and mining to the North of Rowley Hall expanded it cut off this road so another route must have been found by local people who would still have needed to access the parish church for services, baptisms, marriages and burials.

This photograph shows the ‘small quarry’ below Rowley Hall. No chance of walking the old route across this.

This closure must have been inconvenient for people living in the Whiteheath and Mincing Lane area but the quarrying and mining did offer work opportunities. In due course, another road was built from Mincing Lane/Bell End to the Hall to provide a road for vehicles, called, of course, the New Hall Road which is still there, now called Newhall Road.

I recall that, more than a century later when I was a child, people still cut from Bell End up the side of the ‘bonk’, over the now flattened old pit and quarry workings, past the old reservoir to come out at Rowley Hall, on their way to Rowley village and church (or school in Hawes Lane in my case) as the shortest route available. Old habits die hard!

The 1851 Census – some statistics

The population of Perry’s Lake, Gadd’s Green, Turner’s Hill and Tippity Green had expanded to from 384 to 412 since 1841. But there was more variation in jobs than in 1841 and more occupations were shown for women. Scholars were also noted, though not many and these are detailed in a later chart.

Occupations

Agricultural Labourer 3

Almspeople 2

Annuitants 4

Boat Loader 1

Butcher 1

Coal miners 36

Colliery Clerk 1

Dressmaker 3

Engine worker 1

Engineer 1

Errand boy 1

Farmer 1

Farm Labourer 2

Female Servant 4

Furnace Labourer 1

General Servant 5

Labourer 8

Laundress 1

Man servant 1

Mine agent & Surveyor 1

Nailer 117 57 W, 60M

Nail Master 1

Nail Reckoner 1

Nailer’s Tool Maker 1

National School Teacher 2

Needlewoman 1

Nurse 1

Proprietor of Lands 2

Puddler 1

Retired nailer 1

Stone Cutter 4

Stone labourer 2

Stone miner 1

Turnpike Gate Keeper 1

Victualler and butcher 1

White ash maker 1

So the number of different occupations has changed since 1841, some with only I or two people.

Nail making is still the dominant occupation, with miners the only other numerous group. The numbers of men and women are about equal. In most of this group the enumerator describes people making nails as ‘Nail forgers’, a recognition that they were skilled workers producing wrought iron nails in their forges, though another enumerator still calls them simply ‘nailers’. It is possible that some women and children made nails and simply did not declare it, also that some men made nails when other work was not available (such as agricultural workers in winter) or when they got home from work, so the number of nailmakers may be understated.

Other metal working trades such as a furnace labourer and a puddler are noted so skills were diversifying as new industries expanded or moved into the area.

Stone quarrying is not as big an employer as I had expected although it is possible that some of the labourers worked at the quarry and had not specified that, in addition to those who were listed with a specific stone working skill.

Professionals such as an engineer, a Mine Agent and two teachers (brother and sister) have appeared. The former Census showed John Whitehouse as the Registrar of Births and Deaths but in this Census his wife is shown as a widow so presumably this role passed to someone else.

The ‘nurse’ was a child of 8.

The Bull’s Head in Tippity Green was a public house, dating from 1834, though owned by the Dudley family and Benjamin Bowater is listed as ‘Vittler and Butcher’ in Tippity Green in this census, presumably at the Bull’s Head –and the name may have come from Benjamin’s alternative occupation! Publicans were ‘Licensed Victuallers’ so this fits. Hitchmough’s invaluable guide to Black Country pubs lists Joseph Bowater as Licensee from 1834-1854. There is no Joseph Bowater listed in the hamlets in this census though there is a Joseph Bowater who was landlord of a pub in Cradley Heath so perhaps it was a family occupation. Benjamin Bowater also had another butcher and three servants living in his household so could divide his time between butchery and inn-keeping. According to Hitchmough, The Portway Tavern was licensed premises from about 1850, according to Hitchmough with James Adshead Levett Snr and Jnr and then William Levett holding that licence for the next half century. There is no mention of a tavern in the census or of a licensee. It is possible that the Tavern was already operating informally as a pub at the time of this census, the Levetts who ran it later were based at Brickfield Farm in 1851 though away from home on the census night.

For the chart I have combined the jobs associated with nailing and other occupations into groups.

Where did people come from?

Binton, Warwickshire 2

Gloucestershire, St Briavels 1

Herefordshire 1

Lancashire 1

Leicestershire, Mountsorrel 6

Shropshire, Old Park 1

Shropshire, Broseley 1

Shropshire, Stottesdon 1

Somerset, Wellington 2

Staffordshire, Rowley Regis 364

Staffordshire, Sedgley 1

Staffordshire, Tipton 4

Staffordshire, Wednesbury 1

Staffordshire, Wednesfield 1

Staffordshire, West Bromwich 1

Staffordshire, Tettenhall 1

Staffordshire, Tipton 2

Warwickshire, Birmingham 6

Warwickshire, Coventry 1

Warwickshire, Nuneaton 1

Warwickshire, Sambourn 1

Worcestershire, Dudley 6

Worcestershire, Halesowen 2

Worcestershire, Oldbury 1

Worcestershire, Wychbold 1

Again, the great majority are from Rowley itself, with a sprinkling from the surrounding area. Looking at other places, such as Mountsorrel in Leicestershire, I was interested when I looked this up to find that it was renowned for its granite quarry, just like Rowley Regis, so presumably the skills required were transferable. St Briavels in Gloucestershire was in the heart of the Forest of Dean Free Mining area so again there was a common industry.

How old were they?

Men Women

Age

80+ 1 –

75-79 1

70-74 1 5

65-69 1 1

60-64 3 3

55-59 2 3

50-54 9 10

45-49 9 7

40-44 8 9

35-39 12 6

30-34 11 12

25-29 19 20

20-24 27 18

15-19 26 18

As in the 1841 Census, not many lived much past sixty.

Younger people under the age of 15

14 3 5

13 2 3

12 4 5

11 2 4

10 5 7

9 7 6

8 5 4

7 9 5

6 1 5

5 9 3

4 3 7

3 8 9

2 4 5

1 7 7

-1 5 7

74 boys, 82 girls.

Scholars by age

Boys Girls

13 – 1

12 1 1

11 – 1

10 3 1

9 4 1

8 2 1

7 5 2

6 1 –

5 2 1

4 – 3

18 boys out of 74 and 11 girls out of 82 were at school. We do not know how many children were at school in 1841 but this shows that schooling was still far from the norm. Literacy was very much the exception, especially for girls, it seems and from the age of about eight, children were making nails and some were employed outside the home in quarries and mines.

I hope these statistics will be of interest. There will be more for the later censuses, as I transcribe and analyse them. Apologies for the poor quality images – technologically challenged author here, though creating charts is new for me so I am learning!

Hopefully, as more censuses are done we shall be able to see the occupations change over time and I hope to do more detailed work on the families there.

I’m a fan of the FAN method of research!

I am a ‘FAN’ fan!

Genealogy or family history research is a very broad interest. It encompasses those who just want to track a direct line, father’s line only and who are not interested in siblings or female lines; those who insist on three separate pieces of written proof before anyone is added to their tree (which can be difficult once you go back a couple of centuries when a single parish register entry may be the only piece of evidence you can find); those who are desperate to find that they are related to someone famous. “I am a sixth cousin, 32 times removed from this famous actor/president/Mayflower passenger!” seems to crop up fairly regularly on some family history online groups. Or related to Royalty… I resist the temptation to say ‘So what? ‘. Although there is a theory that all white Europeans are related to royalty through William the Conqueror, Charlemagne or Edward III, prolific breeders all, on both sides of the blanket. Edward III has been referred to as ‘the Clapham Junction of English Genealogy’ as ‘all lines go through him’. That probably had more meaning when we had a better railway network…

And then there are those, like me, who research all direct ancestors, their siblings and in-laws and then their sideways connections. So I sometimes find myself diligently searching online for someone’s marriage or death, glance up at their page on my Ancestry tree to check what their relationship is to me to find that I am spending this time on someone who is a “paternal grandfather of wife of 1st cousin 5x removed”. Ah, maybe not spend too much more time on this then. Now, what was I doing before I went down this rabbit hole? But hey, it’s interesting… and it’s surprising how often familiar names and addresses crop up and you do get a picture of how families interrelated.

There is a research technique in family history called the FAN method – Friends, Associates, Neighbours. By looking at the people around your ancestors, at home, at work, at church or chapel, you build a fuller picture of their lives, are more likely to have an impression of what they were like, you may find neighbours who subsequently marry into your family. Always look a page or two either side of your ancestor on censuses and maybe more in a parish register, you may find other relatives there. And noting the names of the witnesses of a marriage may act as a confirmation that you have the right one, if a parent or sibling signed.

My husband started researching his family history while he was waiting for me to finish some research in Gloucester Local Studies Library many years ago. He decided to look for his grandmother in the census, as he knew where she had lived in the West End of Gloucester. This was in the days before the internet so you sat in a library or archive or record office, winding through a microfilm page by page, not much indexing. I was using a neighbouring film reader to look at press reports and heard a little “Ha! Got you!” when he found her. ‘That’s you hooked’, I thought. I was right…

He carefully noted down the details and we left to continue our day. It was only some weeks later as he explored more marriage and birth details that he realised that his granny’s maternal grandparents had been living next door – another trip to the library! So the FAN method can be very useful.

In looking at the families who lived in the Lost Hamlets, I suppose I am doing the ultimate FAN exercise. Preparing detailed family trees however, even for what I think of as the ‘core families’ who lived there over a number of decades, would mean creating at least 14 family trees, possibly more than 20, which is daunting, even for me.

There are things that will help. There is a wonderful online site called Black Country Connections which was started on the basis that it was very likely that many Rowley and Blackheath folk were related to each other and this is undoubtedly correct. So I can go to that tree and see whether any of the core families are listed (yes, mostly they are!) and have a head start on how they connect, possibly when and where they married and who their children were, all useful stuff.

And I have realised that in the 1841 Census, the Cole family had six households in these hamlets and most of these were already on my personal tree, three brothers and their father, so I have a head start there and have decided for now to start with them and work outwards, as it were, since they often intermarried with members of the other ‘core families’. In the last couple of weeks I’ve spent some time revisiting my original research done many years ago and expanding it in earlier generations, doing more work on siblings to my direct ancestors where I had not previously traced their descendants, too. Very enjoyable, if something of a rat’s nest! And uncovered some fascinating stories about them, so I will be posting some of their stories in due course. Apologies to those who have been waiting for another post, I have been busy gathering new information.

This photograph shows my original paper Family Tree, started in about 1980. It’s fair to say that it has expanded a bit since then. My current tree, stored digitally, has over 5000 people on it. Nonetheless, my original research in Smethwick Library and other archives all those years ago has proved very accurate, fortunately, as more and more records became available digitally to check against!

Interesting stories about your Lost Hamlets ancestors would be warmly welcomed!

Nails from Rowley Regis

My mother told me that each village and community in the Black Country had a speciality. Some made nails, some chains, locks, jews’ harps, gun barrels. Certainly in the Cradley area, some gave their occupation in the parish registers as ‘oddworkers’ who apparently made latches and hinges. Such clever dexterous people! But within that, many villages had their own speciality in the type of nails they made. Dudley made horse nails apparently, Rowley specialised in small nails, and I know that some of my ancestors, particularly the Roses, made rivets, a trade which was later moved into industrial premises, such as Gadd’s in Ross.

Why were nails needed?

Nails were used in many ways in years gone by, in building and timber work, in shoemaking (think hob-nailed boots!), in ship building, in horse shoeing, in wheel making, in furniture making. Sometimes they were used partly as decoration and partly as strengthening or fortification, some medieval doors and chests still exist which are studded with nails, often domed or squared ones, which have survived several hundred years. It is not a new industry, the Romans used iron nails which probably looked very similar to the ones our ancestors used. But while most blacksmiths could and did make nails when needed, especially if they were distant from the traditional nail making areas, the quantities produced in the Rowley and Black Country area were far in excess of local needs. So where did they go? They must have been sold elsewhere. More on that in a later article!

How long had nail-making been happening in Rowley?

Trades and professions do not generally appear in the parish registers until the 1600s although in 1554, one John Lowe was noted as a ‘Naylor’. During the Commonwealth period, when Cromwell’s Laws required much more information on marriages to be kept, the records show a clear picture of nailmaking as the principal local industry. Between March 1656 and March 1657, for example, there were 25 weddings recorded in the Rowley Registers, of which 19 of the bridegrooms and 5 of the brides’ fathers were nailers. By 1841, it was still the main occupation listed in the Census that year. The numbers dropped, census by census after that, and after the mechanised production of nails began, the trade became uneconomic, causing a drop in the prices paid for hand wrought nails resulting in poverty and near starvation for nailer families and many were forced or tempted into other jobs, though many remained in metal working industries. Women and children probably carried on nail making while their menfolk worked in mines , quarries and factories and men may well have joined in when they came home from work.

And some men continued as nailers well into the 20^th century. My aunt, born in 1917, could remember visiting her Hingley grandparents in their Darby Street home in Blackheath where her grandfather Neri Hingley continued to make nails in his backyard nailshop, well into the 1920s, collecting bundles of rod, taking his nails to be weighed each week and collecting coke for his forge in a trolley from the gas works in Powke Lane. Considering that my aunt said he was asthmatic, it must have been hard going. Cobblers apparently continued to prefer hand made nails for shoemaking which may have been what my great-grandfather was producing.

Hugh Bodey, in the Shire Book on nail making thinks that by the 15^th century, there were specialist nailmakers in the West Midlands. In the 16^th century, demand increased as wooden floors were laid in houses which previously would have had earthen floors and as upper floors were inserted in previously open halls. The establishment and expansion of the navy in Tudor times and the growth of trade with demand for new trading ships also increased demand for nails. The production process was simplified and speeded up by the development of slitting mills from 1628 onwards which cut hammered and later rolled iron into rods which could be produced in various thicknesses and sizes, according to the size of nail to be produced. The abundant presence of coal and iron in the Midlands gave the area a great advantage, though of course it also led directly to the desecration of much of the landscape.

The industry was mostly controlled by nailmasters, often the owners of the slitting mills, others were merchants of the finished nails. Later, in the nineteenth century, foggers took more part in the industry but these were notorious for giving out shortweight iron and weighing the returned nails on rigged scales. Little allowance was made for wastage and payment was often by the Tommy shops, in tokens which could be used only in shops owned by the fogger where awful quality food and short measure were common. Tommy shops were later abolished by Parliament. The nailers were little more than slaves and a report was made to parliament on the working and living conditions in 1843.

The report to Parliament describes the typical nailshop:

“The best forges are little brick shops of about 15 feet by 12 feet in which seven or eight individuals constantly work together, with no ventilation except the door and two slits, a loop-hole in the wall ; but the majority of these workplaces are very much smaller, filthily dirty, and, on looking in upon one of them when the fire is not lighted, presents the appearance of a dilapidated coalhole or little black den.

In the dirty den there are commonly at work a man and his wife and daughter… Sometimes the wife carries on the forge with the aid of her children. The filthiness of the ground, the half-ragged, half-naked, unwashed persons at work, and the hot smoke, ashes, water and clouds of dust, are really dreadful.”

Parliament did nothing to improve conditions, the problem was more complex than anything covered by factory regulation before then. These then were the conditions many of our ancestors worked in during the 19^th century and for increasingly poor returns.

How many types of nails were there?

J Wilson Jones shows the following types of nails which he says were listed by a London ironmonger as made in Rowley in the late 1600s, including nails he supplied to the Royal Navy, hence the reference to ‘for ye King’. (I will do a separate post soon about this man as he has Rowley connections.). The sheer variety of nails being made is astonishing, although this man also had manufacturing premise in the North-East so some of them may have been made there.

Taken from my original copy of J Wilson Jone’s book, details below.

Brief Lives

So, for all of us who have nail-making ancestors in Rowley, there is a glimpse of the conditions in which many worked. It is small wonder that so many died young. John Cobden wrote a book, published in 1854 titled “The White Slaves of England” in which he described the working conditions in such trades and in dressmaking , the Workhouse system and also in the cotton mills of Northern England which is listed below, written in somewhat dire language and not cheerful reading!

Britain may have abolished slavery in Great Britain and fought to abolish it elsewhere but much of the profits of the wealthy manufacturing classes in the Industrial Revolution came from the hard physical work and the deprived conditions in which tens of thousands of the poorest workers existed.

Poisoned by his wife…

This is not strictly within the Lost Hamlets but concerns a member of the Cole family who was born there – and it’s a fascinating story so I am sharing it with you anyway!

Even after 40 years of research, I still find new facts on my family. Recently I was working on siblings of my 4XG-Grandfather Edward Cole and tracking their descendants, a task infinitely easier than it was when I first worked on Edward himself 40 years ago. With the advent of digitised records and family history programs and online resources, plus, of course, the many subscription services research has utterly transformed.

Searching through the Cole entries in the St Giles Registers, I came across the Burial Record on 14 March 1832 for my 1st cousin 5xremoved David Cole. The entry says that he was 43 when he died in Mar 1832 and that he was a farmer living in Slack Hillock , off Gorsty Hill. I was picking out Cole burials, spotted the note on his made by the Vicar and was off down a fascinating rabbit hole, irresistible!

A note in the Register , added by the Vicar, says “Poisoned by drinking a composition which his wife retailed as a specific for the gout”. How about that for a damning story in a few words? I had to know more. I did some sleuthing and found a newspaper report in the Wolverhampton Chronicle dated 14 March 1832.

David Cole had woken at about five o’clock in the morning, with a pain in his bowels and had gone to get a nip of rum to settle his stomach. The ‘specific’ made by his wife, was called ‘seeds of Colchicum’ and was stored in the same cupboard as the rum in a similar bottle. The bottle containing the mixture was labelled “Wine of the Seeds of Colchicum” but it was not sufficiently light for him to read it. When he returned to bed he told his wife he had taken some of the gout mixture and she was concerned and wanted to get a physician to purge him but he strongly objected to this, saying that he did not think the mixture would hurt him. He went off to work as usual but returned four hours later at 11.00am, feeling ill and very sick and took to his bed. He died two days later. The surgeon who had attended him later on the afternoon he was taken ill could do nothing and told the inquest that he had taken ‘enough of the mixture to kill half a dozen people’. The jury returned a verdict that he “died from accidentally taking seeds of colchicum, mixed into liquid, under the apprehension that it was rum.”

He left his wife Charlotte with thirteen children, the youngest David baptised in June 1832, after his father’s death so it seems very likely that Charlotte was heavily pregnant when her husband died. However, the oldest were old enough to be already working, one as a butcher and others on the farm and she stayed there, listing herself as a farmer for many years after that. I wonder whether she carried on selling her remedies?

But doesn’t this little story actually tell us quite a lot about them? Yes, she was a farmer’s wife but also a herbalist of some knowledge and known as such to local people. I wonder who taught her? Perhaps a family skill? When I looked into it, seeds of Colchicum is still listed by present day herbalists as a treatment for gout but with warnings that it is toxic in large quantities and may cause death. And, to my geat surprise, when I recounted this tale to a genealogist friend who has recently had extensive heart surgery, she responded immediately that “Colchicum is still recommended by the NHS! When I saw my consultant a couple of weeks ago, he recommended colchicine for gout”. So an extract of Colchicum is still used by the NHS today. Charlotte Cole actually knew her stuff, it seems.

And there were few remedies for painful gout in those days, if I remember correctly. Presumably she was known to local people for her remedies, hence the Vicar’s somewhat judgmental comment that she sold the remedy. But they didn’t have pharmacies as we know them then, no picking up a remedy at the chemist or pharmacy as we might and probably most people couldn’t afford to consult doctors.

How devastating for Charlotte to have witnessed this tragedy, her husband killed by her own remedy and to have suffered the reproaches of someone like the Vicar and possibly others for something that was not her fault.

A Methodist chapel in Perry’s Lake?!

Once upon a time there was a Methodist Chapel in or between the hamlets of Gadds Green or Perry’s Lake. Who knew? There is no trace of it on any of the maps I can find but it is listed on the censuses, between Perry’s Lake and Gadds Green , in 1861 and 1871.

I first noticed when transcribing the 1871 Census for Perry’s Lake and Gadds Green that between the two hamlets there is a line which says “Primitive Methodist Chapel”. It is not mentioned in the 1881 Census but in the 1861 Census it is there, again listed between Perry’s Lake and Gadds Green both times but this time called Gadds Green Chapel. Not mentioned in the 1851 Census (although Thomas Barnsley, aged 29, living in Perry’s Lake and born in Rowley Regis, gave his occupation as “Methodist Local Preacher and labourer at Stone Quarry”.

However, in an 1844 Preaching Plan for the Dudley Circuit which is on the ‘My Primitive Methodist’ website, Perry’s Lake is among the Chapels listed as having two services each Sunday at 2.30 and 6pm. Also listed is Rowley – one service each Sunday at 6pm, though it is not clear where this chapel was, possibly services held in a private house or a rented room or even the open air, as neither Knowle nor Hawes Lane chapels are recorded as having been in operation by this date.

The Preaching Plan is an interesting document, showing the burgeoning vitality of the Methodist church in those days with a list of more than 36 chapels in and around Dudley with a few paid ministers who walked long distances to conduct services and in excess of 80 local preachers in the area, including several women. And that was only the Primitive Methodists, there were several other types of Methodists, plus Baptists, Congregationalists, Quakers, Unitarians and others all apparently thriving.

The chapel was also noted as ‘Gads Green’ on a list of Chapels, drawn up in 1867, which is again on the My Primitive Methodist website. So it definitely existed between 1844 and 1871. It would be interesting to see the 1887 OS 6″ to the mile map , just to see whether it was still there then but I can’t find this map online or in print anywhere at the moment.

The earliest 6″ OS map I have at present is dated 1904 and I can’t see a chapel marked on there in Perrys Lake or Gadds Green. There is a Chapel Cottage in Gadds Green as late as the 1911 Census but a chapel isn’t mentioned then. So I wonder whether the local Methodists transferred to other chapels, the nearest being Hawes Lane or The Knowle, both less than a mile away and surely less than a mile apart!

I found online this bit of history about the Knowle Chapel (Eric Bowater giving the information in 2019).

“The first beginning of Knowle Methodist Church met in the small kitchen of a local house,for the sum of 1s 6d.around 1860. As the membership grew it moved into a farm building in Brickhouse Farm a short distance away. Once again the membership grew and so it was decided to build a church of their own. A Church was now to be erected on the present site and was opened in December 1869 called Ebenezer. In 1890 new trouble arose with undermining which affected the chapel. The last meeting held in the chapel was held in 1907.The present church which was built in front of the old one 25th September 1907 and was a United Methodist Church.”

The Knowle site would have been quite close to the hamlets and accessible across the fields so if the earlier chapel closed people might have moved to the Knowle chapel. Reg Parsons, who grew up on Turner’s Hill, told me that he had never heard of a chapel there but that there was also a ‘tin chapel’ at Oakham, opposite the pub there so that may also have provided a spiritual home for some local people when the Perry’s Lake chapel closed.

There was an Ecclesiastical Census on 31st March 1851 (this can be downloaded free of charge from The National Archives) but many small chapels appear to have been omitted and I have been unable to find a chapel I can identify as Perry’s Lake or Gadd’s Green. The entry for St Giles shows figures for attendance which, frankly, I find rather suspect. An extract is shown here.

I find it difficult to imagine 600 people at morning service with 400 children at Sunday School, 1100 people all crammed into St Giles Church for the afternoon service with 400 children at Sunday school (again) and another 100 in the evening in a rented room – such neat round figures, 1000 and 1500 people?! The return for Dudley St Thomas gives figures of 800 and 700 attending services but that for Reddal Hill claims much more modest figures of 149 at church with 223 at Sunday school in the morning with 259 and 223 respectively at later services.

As we have just entered the season of Lent, it is perhaps timely to note that several clergy, in their returns for this census (and clearly anxious that their attendances should not be underestimated by the powers that be for the future), pointed out that the date chosen for the Census was the middle Sunday of Lent. The note shown below was attached by one local Clergyman. It reads “The reason that attendance at the church appears smaller on the 30^th Mar than the average is that the day is Mid-Lent Sunday, commonly called Mothering Sunday. A day much observed in this district by parents having their children and friends around their tables on this day and providing the best in their power for them.”

What a picture that conjures in a few words. And a clergyman apparently much in tune with his congregation, however humble. I can remember my mother telling me as a child that Mothering Sunday was the one day of the year that domestic servants were allowed to go home to visit their mothers, often taking them gifts of food from their employers or spring flowers gathered along the way.

One nearby Anglican clergyman noted bitterly on his return, the ‘scourge of those Dissenters so prevalent in this locality’ and blamed them for his poor attendance figures – showing the hostility of some clergy to their independently minded parishioners. Nonconformists were not popular at that time with the Anglican church, generally seen as rebels and ignorant troublemakers to be corrected and brought back to the Anglican church. A history of Birmingham Road Methodist church in Blackheath recounts that their meeting started in the 1840s in a rented stable in Siviters Lane in Rowley. Dissenters, as they were known, were regarded as the ‘off-scouring of life’, the very scum of the earth’ and, on one occasion when they were unable to pay the rent for the room above the stable, they were not allowed to use the room so sang and prayed in the street outside. A note in the Register for the burial of my 5xgreat-uncle at St Giles in 1794 reads “William Rose, never came to church tho’ often warned and kindly exhorted, died suddenly”. I wonder how kind those exhortations were? To me, it seems very likely that William Rose was a Dissenter, a Methodist and that was why the Vicar was trying to lure him back.

So the hamlets of Perrys Lake and Gadds Green were fortunate to have a chapel of their own to worship in. Worship in their chosen style was an important part of life for our ancestors then and even small hamlets like Perry’s Lake had chapels – I wonder where it was? Any information would be very welcome.

Might it, just might it, have been behind the cottages in the part of Perry’s Lake which people still remember being called ‘Heaven’?

Rowley Regis was not always a ‘blasted landscape’.

This may seem obvious but to those of us who grew up there in the mid 20^th Century, seeing across the landscape almost always through an industrial haze, it was easy to forget that the hills and heaths had once been rural and agricultural landscapes and that my mother could remember, as late as the 1920s, walking over fields from Oldbury Road in Blackheath to Bell End in Rowley, seeing haystacks, picking wild flowers, paddling in the stream and watching the farmers at work.

My childhood walk to primary school at Rowley Hall was across the ‘Bonk’, one of the many huge spoil heaps from mines and quarries and in later years, unofficially, even less child friendly substances from chemical works. It was stony, gritty, pink or grey in places, green and shrubby in others with steep slopes for sliding down on tin trays, unfathomed pools and, my brother and his friend swore, a tunnel which they had explored and which led down to Whiteheath. He was right, it turned out, though I never found it, it would have been part of the tramway from Rowley Hall quarry and mine to Titford Basin. A similar tramway ran from the Hailstone quarry under the road at the Knowle down to the Dudley Canal, using gravity to move the heavy coal and stone to the waterways which would transport it further afield. The bonk was not somewhere many parents nowadays would allow their children to play unsupervised, but to us, the many children who used it as a giant playground, it was simply a natural part of our surroundings. It was only when I was an adult that it dawned on me that we had been playing on a waste heap!

But there were several farms and farmers in or near the lost hamlets on the 1841 census and some of these were still there in the 1940s; perhaps someone will tell me one or two are still there.

They were, like other places, called by different names at different times. Sometimes Freebodies Farm, Hailstone Farm, Brick House Farm, Gadds Green Farm, Turner’s Hill Farm, Windmill Farm, Portway Hall Farm – different records used different names, perhaps depending on the source of the information. At other times they would have been known by the names of whoever was farming there. Even in the 1950s and 60s, once you had left Springfield on the way to Dudley, there were green spaces either side of the road, though there may once have been quarries and mines there. Not smooth green meadows but greenish.

Reg Parsons, who was born and grew up on Turner’s Hill told me that his mother and father, who had a shop in Doulton Road, were walking on Turmer’s Hill one day and his mother saw some wild sweet peas growing in the hedge. What a lovely place this would be to live, she said. So when a piece of land with three condemned cottages became available there, they bought it, Reg’s father demolished the cottages and built a new house, No 2, Turner’s Hill and they moved to it. That was later sold to a local businessman who wanted to live looking over the golf course before that, too was demolished. What a view some of these houses must have had and how lovely to think that wild sweet peas grew in the hedges.

Reg recounts that his father worked in Dudley and, when he needed items from the shop at Springfield, he would get off the bus there, get his shopping and then cut across to walk up over the fields and home. Reg also recounted that, when he was at Britannia Road School (a fair walk in itself) he would call in at a farm off Hawes Lane to milk two of their cows. On the way home he would call in and milk the cows again, having his evening meal with the farmer and then walking home. As Reg said, he was working longer days than when he started his first real job. But his family – and other families in the area were mostly self-sufficient, keeping chickens and a pig, growing vegetables and getting milk from the local farm.

The map from which the extract below is taken, the First Edition of the Ordnance Survey, shows the Turner’s Hill area. This One Inch to the Statute Mile map was derived from two topographical surveys, the first completed between 1814 and 1817 by members of the Royal Military Surveyors and Draftsmen and probably assisted by local surveyors hired for the task. Numerous revisions for the rapidly changing Black Country were completed by 1831-1832, shortly before the first printing in 1834. Copies of the original surveys are preserved in the British Museum. Sheet 62, from which this small extract is taken, was engraved on four separate sheets of copper by the engravers’ workshop at the Tower of London where the first copies were also printed. The names of surveyors, engravers and printers are all recorded. This fascinating information is printed on the David and Charles Reprint edition, along with a great deal more detailed information. My recently acquired copy cost me the grand sum of less than £10, including postage so if, like me, you love old maps, it is worth seeking one out.

Information on the maps tells us that “The engravers’ workshop at the Tower was under the direction of Benjamin Baker. He employed six or seven assistants, each of whom was responsible for a particular aspect of the map – hills, water, woods, lettering and so on.” The Rowley Hills would have provided plenty of work for the one responsible for hachuring the hills!

The map shows that most of the area of the Rowley Hills was still undeveloped then, although clusters of houses and some quarries are shown, the steel works at the Brades is shown and the railways are already marked.

The map shown below is an extract from the very useful Alan Godfrey Reprint of the 1904 OS 6″ to the mile, sixty years or so after the 1st Edition where you can see much more detail of the quarries around the hamlets. The hatching shows that many of the houses backed on to sheer drops into the quarries and many would end up being consumed by the quarrying operations. The Prospect Quarry was the site of a windmill at one time and there was still a Windmill Farm in Tippity Green appearing in records long after the mill had gone.

So while we may have gone to Quinton in my childhood to see the bluebells or to Clent to ‘the real countryside’, there were some green spaces of sorts all around us and around our ancestors, despite the prevalence of quarrys, factories and pits. Interestingly, the old quarries are apparently now being filled in and greened over so perhaps the hills will become a green and pleasant land again after all these years. Though one suspects that the push for new housing may take priority…