The Jewel of Knightsbridge

by Harrod, Robin;

  There is a hymn-like ditty once current in the village:

  All people that on earth do dwell,

  Shall grind their corn at Digby’s Mill;

  If not they’ll have to buy their bread

  And flour off old John Royce instead.

  The family features quite prominently in the history of milling in Essex in the eighteenth century. Three of James Digby’s sons followed him in the trade. Almost all the mills and the land were owned by the Round family, who were the lords of the manor in Birch. The Digby family flame burned bright in the area for over sixty years. They increased in wealth and stature in the first half of the nineteenth century, and then in 1855 everything changed.

  In that year they ceased working at both Birch Mill and Bourne Mill. Some branches of the family then slipped from relative wealth to poverty. James Digby Junior, Elizabeth Digby’s brother, was declared bankrupt that year, having apparently lived in poverty for some time before that. His total debt was £850 (probably something like £100,000 today). This change of circumstances may have been due to poor individual management, but in the years preceding 1855 there were several years of poor harvests and a general economic depression. Problems for farmers and millers increased from the mid 1800s and large parts of the local community were caught by the downturn of events when corn production declined after the Repeal of the Corn Laws.

  The Corn Laws were enacted between 1815 and 1846 and kept corn and other grain prices at an artificially high level. This was intended to protect English farmers from cheap foreign imports of grain following the end of the Napoleonic Wars in 1815. During the conflict the British blockaded Europe, with the result that goods within Britain were protected against competition from outside. Farming became extremely lucrative and farming land profitable. Voting Members of Parliament had no interest in repealing the Corn Laws, as the voting franchise depended on land ownership.

  The high corn price meant that the urban working class had to spend much of their income on corn just to survive. With little left over, they could not afford manufactured goods and so manufacturers suffered and had to lay off workers. These workers had difficulty finding employment, so the economic spiral worsened for everyone involved.

  The reform of the Corn Laws started in 1828 and the right to vote was extended by the Reform Act to many middle-class merchants in 1832. The movement to continue reform of the Corn Laws included the Chartists and the final repeal took place under Sir Robert Peel in 1846. In the following decades, the farmers and millers of corn went through some very bad times, and this would have hit the Digby family badly.

  Some of the Digby family had intermarried with a local family of butchers, the Tiffens (sometimes spelt Tiffin), and as the nineteenth century progressed, perhaps prompted by the difficulties surrounding corn production, more of the Digbys became involved in the butchery trade, cattle dealing and more varied farming. Others left England to seek their future abroad.

  Our Digby family have been traced back ten generations to Richard Digby, who was born in Essex in 1560. The move to Birch took place in the late seventeenth century. Our James Digby, Elizabeth’s father, was the sixth in a line of seven James’s. James Digby Senior (1775–1834) was the last direct male ancestor of this branch of the family to remain in England all of his life. His sons and grandsons spread into North America or Australasia. He was at times a farmer, a pork butcher, a miller and a corn merchant. Whilst James prospered, one of his brothers spent most of his life in poverty. It was James’s will which left money to his children, including daughter Elizabeth. In that will, he spread his mills and properties out between his sons, three of whom stayed in the milling business. His eldest son, James Junior, a witness at Elizabeth’s marriage to Charles Harrod, continued to work the Birch Mill.

  William Digby, Elizabeth Digby’s brother, and his family left for Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 1834 around the time of his father’s death. William became a very successful tailor and clothier in Pittsburgh. William’s great-great-grandson, Joseph H. Digby, of Pittsburgh, had some personal correspondence with John G. Digby, the writer of the Digby story. He said that James Digby Senior, in Essex, had ‘advanced them the money for their transportation to the United States,’ and ‘they left England to avoid religious persecution.’ According to anecdotal recollections of his family, ‘William’s brother James left to go to Australia at about the same time.’

  A chance finding of a ‘funeral card’ during the research highlighted one of the perils of life at this time. Black-edged, ornately decorated funeral cards were often sent out in Victorian times to inform others of deaths. Clara Selina Mason, born in 1850, was the granddaughter of James Junior by his third marriage. Her parents and siblings lived all their lives in either Dover or London, and she was working as a domestic servant for the family of Joseph Digby, the younger brother of James Digby Junior, in Peldon, when she met her untimely death. She died one month short of her 16th birthday. Her cause of death was given by the coroner at Maldon, Mr Codd: ‘From eating greens which had been put by her by mistake into a sauce pan containing a solution of arsenic, 21 hours.’

  Despite her being such a distant relative, it was too intriguing not to investigate. The story was carried in the Essex Standard and Chelmsford Chronicle, and parts of the story follow:

  A FAMILY POISONED AT PELDON.

  A fatal and painful case has occurred at the village of Peldon, the family of Mr J. Digby, miller of that place, having been poisoned through a saucepan in which arsenic had been boiled having been incautiously left on the fire place, from which it was taken for the purpose of cooking. Clara Mason, the niece of Mr Digby [in fact, Joseph was the brother of her maternal grandfather, Joseph Digby Junior] died on Thursday, and the details of the case were given at the inquest, which was held before W. Codd Esq. on Friday.

  Mr Joseph Digby, miller, of Peldon, said – ‘The deceased Clara Mason was my great-niece, and was 15 years and 11 months old; she acted as servant in my house. On the morning of the Tuesday, 7th inst., I left home, and on my return about three in the afternoon, I found the deceased and three members of my family suffering from the effects of some poison, which was no doubt arsenic. Between seven and eight that morning I had put two ounces of stone arsenic into two quarts of water in a saucepan, to be used for destroying vermin, and left it standing on the kitchen fender. The deceased and my wife and daughter were present at the time. I held up a little piece of arsenic, saying at the time, “That little piece would kill any of us”; my wife was to boil the arsenic as soon as the kettle which was on the fire was taken off; on my arrival at home that afternoon I found that Mr Green, the surgeon, had been there; and he came again to see deceased in the evening, when he expressed his opinion that she would die; she died yesterday morning about eleven o’clock; my wife, wife’s mother, and my little girl were all affected.’ [That would have been his wife, Ann, his mother in law, Jemima Birkin, and his granddaughter.]

  Emily Digby, daughter of the last witness, deposed – ‘On the afternoon of Tuesday last, between one and two o’clock, my mother, grandmother, the deceased and my little niece sat down together for dinner; one dish consisted of boiled greens; I did not like the look of them, as they were brown, and didn’t eat any; all the rest did; immediately after dinner the deceased was taken with sickness, and complained of pain in her inside and head ache; she went upstairs and laid down, and soon after the rest were taken with sickness; not having myself been affected, I began to suspect there was something wrong in the greens, and I told deceased what I thought, when she said she thought she had put the greens into the wrong saucepan; the deceased was attended by Mr Green, the surgeon, soon after the occurrence, but she died yesterday morning about a quarter before 11; she complained greatly of thirst and of feeling very hot about her throat; I saw the saucepan containing the arsenic on the fire, and afterwards on the side of the stove.’

  Mr Green gave his evidence. There was little he could do apart from giving a mustard eme
tic and drinks. He saw her three times in all. He tasted the liquid in the saucepan and was in no doubt this was arsenic. The coroner admonished the Digby family for the lack of caution, and the Jury returned a verdict of ‘Accidental Death’.

  James Digby Junior was initially successful after his father’s death, but at around the age of 50 in the early 1850s he fell upon hard times. In 1855 he became bankrupt and his creditors reluctantly auctioned his goods, the mill and its contents at the Ship Inn.

  The Essex County Standard advertised the auction in the edition of 19 January 1855:

  Birch Mill, Essex. Near Colchester. To be sold by auction by Messrs. Smith & Ward on Wednesday, January 24th, 1855. All the excellent household furniture, outdoor effects, utensils of trade, useful brown mare, grey ditto, miller’s van and miller’s cart, light chaise-cart, brewing utensils, etc. etc. by order of the assignee of Mr James Digby, a bankrupt. Sale to commence at half past ten o’clock.

  The mill itself appeared in the same paper three weeks later:

  To Millers and others. To be sold by auction by Messrs. Smith & Ward. At the Ship Inn, Headgate, Colchester on Wednesday February 14th 1855 at 5 o’clock in the afternoon, in one lot and to be removed by the purchaser.

  All that excellent POST WINDMILL, known by the name of ‘Birch Mill’ lately held by Mr James Digby, now standing near the Church at Birch, in the County of Essex, together with all machinery, 2 pairs of French stones, and all going gears to same belonging; and the materials of the Round-house.

  James had been in trouble for a while and at one time was accused of fraud.

  But enough of the Digbys and Essex for the moment. Both will keep popping up throughout the story.

  Charles Henry gave up his drapery and haberdashery business in Southwark in 1831 or 1832 and started up a grocery business north of the Thames. The possible reasons have been discussed earlier. It looks as though the drapery business had not been successful and there was a lot of competition.

  His wife Elizabeth was left some money in her father James’s will after he died in 1834, which might have aided the move retrospectively. However, a closer examination of the will shows that the money was to be paid by Elizabeth’s brother Joseph from his share of the estate, after the death or remarriage of their mother, Martha. She died ten years later in 1844 so the money would not have been paid until that year at the earliest.

  With my knowledge of Charles Henry’s tactics in later life, I could easily be persuaded that he moved because he thought he could make more money somewhere else trading in tea. His situation had changed in 1830, he was then a married man, so he might in addition have been influenced by his wife.

  Charles Henry is said to have established his ‘Wholesale Grocery and Tea Dealer’ business in Cable Street, east London, in 1834, but his first premises north of the Thames were actually in Upper Whitecross Street, just north of the Barbican. Depending which source you consult, he had premises there from somewhere between 1831 and 1833. Robson’s Directory, which had him still in Southwark as a haberdasher in 1832, lists him in 1833 as ‘Harrod & Co., Grocers’, 163 Upper Whitecross Street, London EC1. By 1834, he was definitely trading at or near 4 Cable Street, where he stayed for a number of years. This hesitation about his first address in that area is explained below.

  Robson’s lists him there as ‘Harrod Chas. Grocer & Co.’ in 1834, and Kelly’s Post Office Directory confirms his business was there until 1855. At an early stage of my research, when street directories were one of my main sources of information, I was confused by an entry in Pigot’s 1839 Commercial Directory, which gave a Frederick William Harrod as a grocer at 4 Cable Street. At that time, I had not yet ‘discovered’ Charles’s brother, so assumed this entry was a clerical error. Later work clarified the reason for the entry.

  Errors in records are quite common. They can sometimes be recording errors, but probably more often than not they are transcription errors, occurring particularly when records are digitised. In the 1980s, one of the best record databases available was that of the Mormon Church, or the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, as it is now better known. The Church is based in Salt Lake City in the USA, and because of their rules about intermarriage between closely related family members, they have accumulated thousands of birth and baptism records to allow members to check their origins.

  When very little else was available to study apart from paper records at the Public Record Office based in Portugal Street in London (a precursor of the National Archives), the births marriages and deaths in large bound books at Somerset House and later St Catherine’s House, and the Family Records Centre at Myddleton Street, all in London, the Mormon records could be studied on microfilm at many centres, including my home town of Cheltenham.

  This resource was invaluable, but not always completely accurate. I was told that the UK records had been transcribed by American students on holiday in Britain who had used local parish records and other sources. It was inevitable that, apart from simple transcription errors, their unfamiliarity with British names and places led to other errors. These records were eventually digitised as the International Genealogical Index (IGI), but many of the errors remain, so beware.

  Once in Cable Street, which seems to have been a retail business selling groceries and tea, Charles Henry seemed to have vacated the premises in Upper Whitecross Street. Cable Street, which runs from the direction of the Tower of London in the west to Ratcliff in the east, probably dates back to the sixteenth century when it was just a pathway. The original length of Cable Street was the standard length of hemp rope, twisted into a cable, which was required for sailing ships (in the British Navy this length was about 100 fathoms/608ft/185m, one tenth of a nautical mile or one cable).

  A modern visitor to east London would find 4 Cable Street on the south side of the street, recently the site of the Cirilo Noodle Bar and Grill. Whether this is the site of the original No. 4 in the nineteenth century is difficult to prove, but from the census descriptions, it looks likely. The area is very close to Tower Hill, and is still run down despite much of the redevelopment in the surrounding areas. Cable Street runs west from Dock Street, and the north side has been completely demolished and taken over by parking and the Docklands Light Railway (DLR). There has been a railway line there since the mid 1800s but it was taken over latterly by the DLR. With the opening up of the Isle of Dogs and Canary Wharf, and particularly since the Olympics in 2012, the area has improved.

  The whole district was once called Well Close. It is suggested that Well Street (now called Ensign Street) and Well Close were so called because of the well in nearby Goodman’s Fields to the west. A tributary of the Thames originally ran parallel to Well Street into the river. Well Close Square is on the south side of Cable Street a few doors east of No. 4. Only buildings on the northern side of the square remain.

  From the eighteenth century until early in the nineteenth century it was a rather fashionable suburb, attracting well-to-do merchants, sea officers and doctors. The area deteriorated in the 1800s and has only improved in recent years. At the north-west corner of the square, on Grace’s Alley, stands the famous Wilton’s Music Hall. Billed as the world’s oldest functioning grand music hall, it was built in 1858 behind the Prince of Denmark Tavern, which is now called the Mahogany Bar and is attached to the music hall.

  The tavern opened in 1839, and was reputedly the first in London to have mahogany counters and fittings. The tavern was often frequented by people of ‘ill repute’ and had a poor reputation. Sailors were induced to enter, to drink and to dance. These men were plied with drink, knocked senseless, and after being robbed were thrown out into Grace’s Alley. An alternative method of distribution was to drop the victim through a trapdoor (which is still to be seen there) and leave them to get out when sober. The original entertainment was pretty basic, and many fights and the occasional murder occurred. I visited the area about seven years ago when a restoration was underway, but it was still in a very sad state. It
has since been fully restored to its magnificent glory and is in regular use.

  As stated above, there is some confusion in the records regarding the shop at 4 Cable Street, and where Charles and his family actually lived and worked. In the 1841 census, the address of the Harrod family is given as Rosemary Lane, Cable Street, in Registration District 9 of the parish of St Mary Whitechapel. Rosemary Lane and Cable Street are often bracketed together in the directories as though they were parts of the same street, and they were originally just that. Rosemary Lane, now named Royal Mint Street, runs from Tower Hill in the west and becomes Cable Street at the junction with Dock Street. However, even though the heading on the pertinent page of the 1841 census starts confusingly with the address, ‘Cable Street/Rosemary Lane’, the south side of Rosemary Lane is in Registration District 9, whilst the south side of Cable Street is in Registration District 10. To make matters more confusing, according to the 1841 census 4 Cable Street was occupied by John Relzbach and his family, a ‘pork butcher’, who is listed as ‘born in foreign parts’.

  Further information in this chapter will suggest that in 1836 the shop was in Rosemary Lane, not Cable Street. In 1839 the business was in Cable Street, but by 1841 John Relzbach was at that address. Either Charles held both properties, and used Cable Street on occasions and rented it out at other times whilst living in Rosemary Lane, or they were repeatedly confused with each other.

  The area surrounding Well Close was, and still is, referred to as the Minories. This name remains as the road running south from Aldgate to Tower Hill, and is derived from the abbey of the ‘minoresses’, or nuns, of St Mary of the Order of St Clare, founded in 1294, which stood on the site. In 1686 the area became part of the Liberties of the Tower of London, granted by King James II. It was the location of Minories Railway Station, built in 1840 as a part of the London & Blackwall Railway – a 3½ mile (5.6km) cable railway. The site is now occupied by a Docklands Light Railway station, opened in 1989 as the western terminus of the system.