Left on his own, Charles would have needed all hands on deck to help with the shop. William Digby, his second son, worked in the shop as a youngster, just like his brothers. He was not at home for the 1861 census, but was living and working with one of his ‘Tiffin’ butcher relatives from Birch, who ran a shop in Munster Street in the St Pancras area. William, then aged 19, was one of three butchers working there. It is possible his father wanted him to learn the trade and run a butchery department at the Harrod shop, but equally, perhaps he had chosen not to stay at home with his father and brother, Charles Digby. There is quite a lot of circumstantial evidence to suggest that the sons of Charles Henry and Elizabeth did not get on well together, and indeed, William made a decision two years later to leave England.
Alfred Tiffin (or Tiffen) would have been 30 years old in 1861. He was the youngest son of Charles Tiffin, one of a family of butchers and cattle dealers in Birch and nearby Layer Breton, who were related to the Digbys by marriage. As a youngster, aged 19 in 1850, Alfred got into a bit of trouble with the authorities and his appearance before a court at the Mansion House is reported in several newspapers of the day. He had apparently bought a cow on the cheap that was not fit for human consumption. Such cattle were called, rather gruesomely, ‘wet cows’, and Alfred was trying to pass it off for sale at Smithfield as a healthy animal. He denied this, of course, saying the cow was sound. Under interrogation he admitted buying this cow for £2 2s 6d (which prompted laughter from the public), knowing the average price for a sound cow was £14 or £15. He was fined heavily – £20 – and warned about his future conduct.
Although this is no excuse, the availability online of newspaper archives and access to court and criminal records does on occasion lead to the conclusion that everybody in Victorian England was ‘on the make’ in one way or another. Novels by Dickens, like Oliver Twist, seem to confirm that minor crime was very common.
Henry Digby, the youngest son, had gone away to ‘the country’ in 1858 and like his eldest brother probably returned when his mother died two years later. In the 1861 census, now at home, he is listed as a ‘shopman’. That same census showed that the family had a Digby cousin living with them, a granddaughter of James Digby Senior called Elizabeth Nevill Digby. She was then aged 20. She was to join William Digby when he emigrated two years later. There was also a 23-year-old domestic servant in the house. Accommodating the six residents in the house, with the shop and the stock, would have been difficult.
The death of Elizabeth, wife and mother to the household, would have been a tragedy for the family; but it proved to be a watershed, prompting changes for Charles Henry. The following year, 1861, was also a year of change in British and world history. On 25 May, the American Civil War began; on 14 December, Prince Albert died, prompting the start of one of the longest bereavements in history; the first horse-drawn trams started in London; the Metropolitan Railway, later the Metropolitan Line, was in the throes of construction, linking the mainline railway stations of London with underground tunnels (it would be a few years later however, in 1868, before it would extend to South Kensington); and Mrs Beeton published her Book of Household Management. The penny post had been established in the previous year, 1860, and remarkably, each day there were at least ten deliveries of letters and eight collections. The iron boxes for letters, first erected in 1855 on the kerbstones of the leading thoroughfares, had collections at 7.45 a.m., 10 a.m., 12 noon, 2 p.m., 4 p.m., 6 p.m. and 8 p.m.
Aged 61, Charles should have been looking forward soon to retirement with Elizabeth. They had married when she was young and had been through many hard times together. His three sons, now young men, would have been raring to take on more responsibility and make their own way in life.
The differences between the boys must have come to the surface over the next year or two. Charles Digby, the eldest and probably the most forceful, was set to take over the shop from his father, whilst his brothers went off in very different directions.
WILLIAM DIGBY HARROD
William Digby Harrod was a very different character to his older brother, Charles. He was much more of a loner and was less ambitious. In 1863, he decided there was no future for him in England and he emigrated with his Uncle John Digby and John’s family, which included Elizabeth Nevill Digby and his cousin Joseph Sampson Digby. The destination was Christchurch, South Island, New Zealand.
William travelled as a remittance man in the ship David G. Fleming. Remittance men have been described as ‘those who were either useless or superfluous to the family – who were shipped off by their families to Australia [or New Zealand] and paid a remittance to stay there. They were the troublemakers, non-achievers, or perhaps just the youngest of the sons.’ It is impossible to know to which group William belonged. A New Zealand Digby descendant added another possibility to the list, that of fleeing London after getting a young woman ‘in the family way’. No evidence for this was offered or has been found.
Much of the information about William Digby has come from New Zealand researchers, who have investigated him thoroughly to try to find a link with their own Harrod lines; none of which have so far found to be connected. After his arrival, William farmed for a short time with his Uncle John in Ashburton, on the Canterbury Plain near Christchurch. The Maori Wars had, by this time, been grumbling on and off for some years in New Zealand. In 1863, the year of William’s arrival, the colonial government brought the Military Settlers Scheme into being. Service with the military would be rewarded by land on which to work and live. This must have seemed like just the right opportunity for William to kick-start his own life in New Zealand.
In January 1864, only a few weeks after he landed, William enlisted in the forces in Canterbury. He was appointed a private and was transferred to Okato, to the Taranaki Military Settlers. This contingent was deployed to help stop the fighting between Maori and Pakeha, the Maori term for New Zealanders of European origin. Okato is a small coastal township in rural Taranaki, North Island. Today it is still a small town, with a population of about 520 people.
William’s military service records reveal that on enlistment he was aged 22, 5ft 4in tall and single. It gives his ship of arrival in New Zealand as the Phoebe, which might have explained a lack of Digby or Harrod names on the passenger lists of the David G. Fleming, the ship they were said to have used. My research on New Zealand websites shows that there were no suitably timed trips for the Phoebe, but I have confirmed a journey for her sister ship, the Phoebe Dunbar, in 1863 to Port Chalmers, at the southern end of the Canterbury Plains. Sadly, no passenger lists exist online for either vessel, so which ship was actually used remains unknown.
The New Zealand Wars, also known as the Land Wars or Maori Wars, were a series of conflicts that took place between 1845 and 1872. They were fought over a number of issues; most prominently Maori land being sold to the white settlers. This is a period of history about which the British government of the time and the local settlers should not be proud. The Treaty of Waitangi, signed in 1840, had guaranteed the rights of the Maori tribes to their land, though some land sales to colonials had taken place. The British colonial authorities decreed that the Maoris could sell land only to the Crown. However, many settlers did not appreciate that the Maori owned their land communally and that permission to settle on land did not always imply sale of that land. Under pressure from settlers, the colonial government gradually ignored the provisions of the treaty and permitted settlers in areas that had uncertain ownership. The Maori began resisting the occupation of their land by British settlers, and the whole process sowed the seeds of eventual war.
By 1859, the Europeans in New Zealand had reached numerical parity with the Maori, at about 60,000 each. Whilst the Maori population was declining so fast that some people saw their extinction as a distinct possibility, immigrant ships were arriving from Britain on an almost weekly basis. As early as 1841, one Maori had asked if the whole British tribe was moving to New Zealand.
During their at
tacks on rural settlements, however, the Maoris often had overwhelming numbers. In time, it inevitably proved an unequal struggle; the economic base of industrial Britain, against the Maori rural economy. Their warriors were their farmers and food gatherers, not soldiers. What became known as the Second Taranaki War was a reaction by the Maori to the wholesale confiscation of their land by the colonial government who had used imperial troops to enforce this. After 1863, most of the fighting was conducted by the local organised units of settler militia.
William’s local militia built a blockhouse to use as a storage and defensive base, and during continuing Maori raids the white population would flee to the safety of the blockhouse. A local resident told a story in an article about William Harrod, which had occurred when he, the correspondent, was only 3 weeks old:
To help my mother, who was in a weak state through my recent birth, Harrod, our neighbour, carried me most of the way up the steep hill to the blockhouse, and that on the way up, hearing some noise in the fern, he and my mother had to hide for some time before they attempted to go on.
Many Maori died defending their land; others changed sides to settle old scores. In all, there were an estimated 3,000 casualties, the majority of which were Maori. To make matters worse, land confiscation was the fate of many of the survivors. Inevitably, the might of the Empire prevailed.
For his service with the Military Settlers, William was awarded the New Zealand Medal, which was presented by Governor George Gray in 1867. Following the war, a lot of land changed hands, forming the basis for continued legal disputes over the ensuing years. So rightly, or more likely by today’s standards, wrongly, William was granted land in 1867 for his contribution as a member of the Taranaki Military Settlers. The land was No. 42 Town Lot, an acre in the middle of the Okato settlement, and Lot 8, a 57-acre plot just outside the town. On this smaller town lot William built a two-roomed hut, laid a cobble-stoned courtyard and planted arum lilies. The larger site has since been divided into two parts, the Okato Domain and Terry O’Sullivan’s Farm, off Old South Road – local knowledge!
Once at peace and settled on his land. William took a full part in local life. An article in the Taranaki Daily News in 1935 describes how the local pioneers had to band together to build and repair the roads and bridges. William was on the Okato Road Board which supervised this work throughout the late 1870s and early 1880s, latterly as chairman. William featured in another article in the New Plymouth Daily News in 1986. After berating Harrods Stores, which they labelled ‘the hallowed hand’, for giving some New Zealand businesses a legal rap over the knuckles for taking its name in vain, the article then gives the life story of William as an example of one tie that can never be cut!
The article draws on information in the local archives together with the memories of descendants of his friends. It describes the rationale of the remittance man as ‘Here’s a few quid from the family coffers, old chap, now kindly push off.’ The article states William did not farm but just ‘gardened’, although the archives list him as a ‘farmer’. It states that he was at one time county clerk for Okato County and in his later years was appointed a Justice of the Peace.
William never married, and the evidence suggests he lived alone all his life. If he had been interested, single girls were in any case at a premium in the rural settlements. William’s closest friends in the town were Fred Roebuck and William Corbett and their families. Fred Roebuck was Okato’s first blacksmith and went on to run a carrier service to New Plymouth. Fred gave his youngest son, Stephen, the middle name of Digby, after William. Stephen Roebuck was interviewed in that 1986 article, then aged 87. He said that his parents enjoyed William’s company and he was spoken of as a thoroughly sociable old gentleman. It was well known that William was part of the Harrod family of the store fame and came from a wealthy family. William was said to have had a picture of Harrods in his home, which he told locals was the biggest store in the world.
The Corbetts described him as a highly educated man, with a love of poetry and reading. They thought he survived on a private income; perhaps his inheritance formed the basis of this. William Corbett’s grandson, Des, told a story about how his grandfather had saved William’s life one winter’s night, when he was found lying injured after being crushed by a farm animal. Mrs Corbett had heard his cries for help. ‘They had to take him to town in a gig. I don’t know how old he would have been, but he had to have a spell in hospital.’ Mr Corbett’s son, Ernest, later became an MP from 1943–57 and was, at one time, Minister of Maori Affairs and Lands and Forests.
William was not liked by everyone. The same article told a story about William’s support for the Corbett children, who William felt were being victimised by their school teacher. Des said, ‘They got whacked for being late, for not having a handkerchief. Harrod went down to the school and tried to sort it out.’ However, perhaps Des’s memory of the events was flawed. The response is recorded in the Okato School headmaster’s diary for 3 June 1905, which read:
Mr Harrod has been putting himself to considerable pains to interest himself in the Corbetts’ case without coming to see me about my side of the question. As a JP it is evident he should keep out of party quarrels, or at any rate, find out the truth before taking action on one side, more especially as he is an old bachelor without any children or even relations at the school.
He is mentioned in several other newspaper cuttings of the day. The Taranaki Herald in 1890 states he was in hospital that year with a poisoned hand. The same paper gives a description of an injury in an article on 15 May 1897, probably the same story as told by Des Corbett:
Mr W.D. Harrod, a settler at Okato and clerk to the Okato Road Board, sustained a broken leg on Friday evening. He was milking his cows between 4 and 5 o’clock when one of the animals slipped and fell on his leg breaking the limb. Mr Harrod, as no help was near, crawled about 2 chains to his house [for the younger reader, a chain is 4 rods or perches, and is about the length of a cricket pitch, or 20m. So 2 chains are about 40m] and opened both doors, and then, as he lived alone, he tried to attract attention. It was not, however, until about 8 o’clock that he managed to attract the attention of 2 lads, named Clarke and Humphreys, who were out fishing in the river. The lads gave the alarm, and Mr Harrod was at once attended to by the neighbours, and was eventually brought to the hospital for treatment.
You had to be tough to survive in those days!
In 1901, William sold his land and moved into a cottage built for him in the town in Oxford Road. In his last years he was looked after by his friends, the Corbetts. William Digby Harrod died in the Private Hospital, New Plymouth, in 1907. He was 64 years old. The death was reported by William Corbett and his death certificate states he had died of ‘Hernia, senile heart decay, Cardiac Failure – 3 days’. It is possible he had had a strangulated hernia, on which surgery would have been available in 1907, but risky, and that this precipitated the heart failure.
He had been in New Zealand for nearly forty-five years. The Taranaki Herald described him:
A well-known and highly respected resident of Okato. Mr Harrod arrived in Lyttleton in 1861, then a lad of nineteen. He came up to Taranaki about ’64 … When hostilities with the Natives ceased, he settled on his Government grant … He was, we understand, one of the very few who retained their Government grants.
He was buried in the Corbett family plot, beneath the shadow of Mount Egmont at Okato Cemetery, with an expensive looking grey marble headstone. The Herald report of the funeral stated, ‘He was not much known to the outside world, being of a retiring disposition.’
The handwritten will appointed the Public Trustee as executor. The Evening Post reported his estate as £3,804 (between £1–2 million today, depending upon how you compare monetary worth). He left bequests to members of the Roebuck and Corbett families, and the balance of his estate to ‘my brother Henry Digby Harrod, at present residing at High Street, Winchester, England’. This suggests that the two brothers had remained
friends and were still in touch.
The Public Trustee took the land back into the public domain, although the rationale was not explained. The descendants of Henry Digby might otherwise have found themselves very rich indeed. He directed his executor ‘to have a polished granite recumbent stone laid over my grave with only my name and date of birth upon it, the cost not to exceed £80’.
Mrs Roebuck used her bequest to build a new family home at 19 Carthew Street, which she named ‘Harrodsville’. It later became the site for Okato’s first bowling green which was on the front lawn.
A sale of his livestock took place after his death. It included ‘25 Yearling; 4 2-year-old Heifers; 1 Empty Cow; 1 Mare, with foal at foot; 1 Yearling Filly by Berlin Abba; 4 Pairs good Working Bullocks, Yokes, Bows and Chains; 1 Dray – 5 inch tyres.’ The average ‘gardener’ would have found no use for bullocks and yokes.
HENRY DIGBY HARROD
Henry Digby Harrod was the youngest of the three brothers, and probably had the most problems getting on with his brother, Charles Digby. He worked for a while in the shop before he went off to the country when aged about 13. After his mother’s death in 1860 when he was aged 15, he worked in the shop as a ‘shopman’ whilst his brother William was working elsewhere as a butcher.
This time working with his brother, Charles Digby, may well have made his mind up that they could not continue together. Charles was that bit older and full of ideas, and his star shone brighter. As Charles Digby gradually took over the Brompton Road shop in the early 1860s as his father handed over the reins, William emigrated and Henry decided he must make a move. He was helped by his father, who took over a shop in Soho, at 40 Old Compton Street. Charles Henry remained the ratepayer and is listed on the electoral register at this address until 1869, but he handed this shop over to Henry who was running the shop by 1866.
The Jewel of Knightsbridge Page 10
