Places and Things of Antiquarian or of General Interest
The Round House

The village jail was a feature of the community’s disciplinary methods of a not very far distant, yet now a happily past, age – in this respect anyway. This house of correction often had the distinguishing feature of being round in shape, with a conical roof that was built of the same material as the walls, either stone or brick, as the case might be, built overlapping until the apex was reached. These buildings had no particular architectural merit, unless the oddity of their round shape may be considered as such; the name “Round House,” of course, came from the shape of the building. Many seem to have been built, and pulled down again, within the space of comparatively few years.

Rushden had such a round house, which was demolished in the fifties of last century. It was built on the Green, but as this Green has been greatly altered of late years, its exact site seems to be a matter of mere conjecture, as is even the material of which it was built.

The Stocks and Whipping-post are also claimed to be other methods of village correction, and, as such, a part of the past of Rushden. The stocks were a fact, but the whipping-post seems to have been only a tradition. There is a consensus of opinion upon one thing, however, for those “in the know” agree that the victims of old time village disciplinary method were given liquid comfort from the near by public house, administered by the aid of a straw passed through the grating in the door from the mug to the mouth.

Raunds had its round house placed on the side of the road, close to the Robin Hood public-house, whilst one at Harrold, in Bedfordshire, about nine miles away, still exists in good condition. It is situated at the apex of a large triangular green, and is built of stone with a conical roof, built of the same material.

Places and Things of Antiquarian or of General Interest
The Pound

Memories of “The Pound” are still associated with the Green. This four-square, stone-walled place of incarceration for domestic farm animals was at the North side of the Green. Often it was only a wooden pen, as in the near-by villages of Chelveston and Souldrop. Horses, cattle, sheep, and pigs were all locked up, or impounded, in this pen, after the pound-keeper had found them astray, and a levy, or fine, was called for before their owners could recover their livestock. Four-pence a head seems to have been the usual assessment, but if any animal had been judged guilty of having done material damage when astray, a “damage lock” doubly impounded the four-footed culprit, and the assessed cost of the damage had to be paid in addition to the ordinary toll before a release could be secured.

The association of this old-time village of Rushden with its Green does not seem to be complete until mention is made of an incident that took place in those Early Victorian days. Next to the pound stood a stone house, and its door opened on to the Green. In the summer season the occupier was seated outside, after his day’s toil in the fields as shepherd, and was earnestly reading a book, near its end. Upon being asked what the book was about, he replied that he had not got to the title page yet, so could not tell.

To the North East of the Parish Church, and adjoining the Churchyard, stands the Parish Rooms. This building is comparatively new, but upon the site stood at least one other building. This was the village “poorhouse,” which was converted into a school when the Wellingborough “Workhouse” was built.

Bridges mentions that there was in his time (about 1738) a notable house “a furlong distant from the village” whilst Coles, in his time, just a hundred years later than Bridges’ history, says: “In the farm-yard of Mr. Achurch is a carved stone, now used as a horse block, which came from Mr. Gray’s farm, Scanthorpe.” To-day the house, the stone, and even the name, have all disappeared, with not even a memory of these things remaining.

A sketch map of this immediate locality lies before me. It was taken from a map which was published in 1827, as the result of a three-years’ survey, in 1824-5-6, by A. Bryant. These names are found on it in connection with Rushden:-

Spital Hill, now known as Rushden Hill. This hill and the valley between it and the village of the fifties of last Century were lonely, scarey and dark, with no light, when the long winter nights were in evidence. At the bottom of the hill opposite to Hayway was a spinney, whilst a magnificent oak tree stood on the other side of the road, which was later shattered by lightning, and an arched stream ran across the road. At this lonely place, rumour had it, dwelt a ghost, under the bridge, and it was peculiar from fact that it had a name, not a common thing for a ghost to possess. This name was “Bung Edi,” a fearsome name enough for certain, and a very real terror to any who had to pass that way in the dark. That did not often occur, though, not even in the case of children of older growth, and if they had to do so it was most likely with searchings of heart at ghostly thoughts.

The probable mediaeval hostel – as “spital” suggests – and the ghost “Bung Edi” are now lost even to memory, and the whole once-lonely locality has now been built upon.

Farms

Just to the south of Hayway branches off the Irchester-road, and this is marked on the map “Washbrook.” Washbrook-road is reminiscent of the Washbrook, for at the roadside, upstream, just above the bridge, was built a dam and arrangement for the sheep washing that took place just before the sheep-shearing season. The writer very well remembers this Washbrook, for, as a truant small boy from Mr. Knight’s School, he saw the sheep being thrown into the water and the wool rubbed over with a rubber, which was a piece of wood at the end of a long handle, and then the sheep floundered out, amazed at it all. This was one of the few sights that the Rushden of those days could offer for the delight of youngsters.

The farm named “Smith’s Farm” on the map later became Mr. Stewart Mason’s farmhouse, and was afterwards demolished to enlarge the Victoria Hotel grounds. Mr. Fred Knight’s home, now known as The Rectory, was named The Parsonage on the map, and was the home of the Rectors of Rushden for many years, before Canon Barker had the present Rectory built. Then “Manning’s Farm” is the name given on the map to the house at “top end,” where the sundial is, and the “Bridle Way” of the map is half a mile along the Bedford-road, a county boundary road, that leads to the Wymington-road, and still beyond across country. Still further along the road the map has “St. B.” marked on it, at the juncture of the road, with a road at the left, that leads to Higham Park and Newton Gap. It must be a cryptic as many a legend of the saints to the younger generation, yet some may still remember the “Salt Box,” a toll house on the side of the road, but of which no trace remains. Still along the road, and to the right, is marked “The Grange,” a farm house that is now known as “Bencroft,” whilst still further along the road comes the county boundary line, where Northamptonshire joins Bedfordshire. Here is the end of an extremely long parish, reaching from Higham town to the county boundary, that of Rushden, some four miles in length, and here is marked on the map “T.B. West Wood.” This again will be quite enigmatic to many; the full reading is Toll Bar West Wood. Nothing now remains of this except “The Gap,” or widening of the road at the spot where the house stood on the Bedfordshire side. West Wood has been changed in name to “Knotting Fox,” reminiscent of fox-hunting days, but in olden times this was called the West Wood, a wood in Knotting parish to the west of the village.

Windmills

Until recently one windmill yet remained to Rushden, a quaintly picturesque object on the Bedfordshire border to the left of the Wymington-road.

There was another mill, however, that existed within living memory, but now only evidenced by the name “Windmill-road.” The mill stood near the T head, where that road joins Glassbrook-road. To the right, at this juncture, stands well back in a garden a white house that has evidently had its end cut away to allow the road to pass at that point. This house is the Mill House, now surrounded by other houses, but in the days of the Mill it stood far off from “the maddening crowd,” a house and a mill in a lonely field. (Note: The doorstep at the entrance to this house is one of the grinding stones from the old mill. Editor, “R.E.”)

In days when fox hunting was a great village event “the hounds” used to meet in the “four-roads” field, the one adjoining the Mill Field. This meet was kept as high holiday; mounted aristocrat huntsmen in red, with “the Cloth,” or clergy, sometimes represented, but becomingly arrayed in black, the hounds with their wagging tails, whilst the whole village seemed to be there afoot, all save a few of the sage ones. Some farmers and others were on horseback, but the main element was the craft represented in particular by the rivetter and the finisher, with their badge of office, the ever-worn apron. Then the school children were given a part morning holiday (those of the National School, anyway) to see the sight, and run to “the throw off,” that search for the fox which took place “down the moors,” a spinney in the hollow, a half mile to the North-East. And in all this helter skelter the feminine element was not unrepresented. At those meets creature comforts were sometimes dispensed to the favoured elect in the shape of beer, and bread and cheese. This species of Saturnalia waned to its finish with the coming of the last quarter of the 19th Century.

It seems that Rushden may have had a water-mill, perhaps near to where the present Ditchford Mill stands. Bridges, in fact, speaks of the present Ditchford Mill as being in Rushden parish, though now it is rated to Irchester parish. His statement was made nearly two hundred years ago, however. Then again, “The Staunch,” nearly a mile lower down stream, now a name only, and not even that to a good many, may have been the site of the water mill. The remains of this staunch were demolished several years ago. The plural, mills, is often used, when only a single one seems to be in evidence. The reason for this is that a watermill and a windmill were formerly used in association; though the windmill has ceased to exist, yet the old plural form, “mills” is still retained for the watermill alone.

Two jokes (to use the local word) that have served Rushden wit for generations, and that concern millers, may be worth recording, if only to keep alive a humour of the past.

The first concerns the “gristing,” or tolling of the flour, the proportion that the miller takes in payment for grinding the grain. This miller says to his man, “Joe, did you toll Tom Flint’s flour?” “Yes master,” came the response, to which the miller replies, “Ah, well, I had better toll it again to make sure!” And so he did.

The second “joke” likewise makes the miller the butt of village wit. The miller, to take a rise out of the village simpleton, asks naively : “Well, Dick, tell me something you do know.” Dick: “I know millers has fat hogs.” The miller: “And now tell me something you don’t know.” Dick: “I don’t know whose flour feeds them!”

Almshouses & Sanitation

A delightful miniature in domestic architecture, of Late Gothic type, is found at the town end of Wellingborough-road. This embodies four almshouses, built by the late Squire and Mrs. F. U. Sartoris, in memory of their son Frederick Maitland, for four elderly ladies, who are made happy by the support of this beneficence.

There still remain to Rushden a number of “Old Boys” who, in more youthful days, bathed in the reservoir, or, as still younger fry, who dabbled in the little brick-made pool, just below the reservoir’s sluice gate. In those days it was always the “reservoy” - reservoir in pronunciation would be “putting it on.” Many may ask, “Where was this reservoir, and for what purpose used?” Its location was “up Bedford-road,” just where the little brook turns off into the field, and the reservoir’s purpose was to flush the brook periodically. Such sanitation was surely needed then, when drains were allowed to make the brook a convenient place for discharge. The flushing of the brook usually took place on a Saturday afternoon, and was a weekly delight for the youth of the village. The cry, at the oncoming of the headwaters of the flush, was “Here it comes,” meaning the dark mass of filthy water that contained considerable flotsam and jetsam, village refuse, thrown into the usually stagnant, sluggish, everyday brook bed, that was swept onward to the river.

The Rushden of to-day is evidence of the good work done in sanitation by the Urban Council, when within half-a-century ago such crude methods as those just described were the first effort that led to the sanitary system of this present time.

The Hostel or Hotel, The Inn and The Public House

A hostel or inn that has existed since Saxon days, still serves bed and board for man and beast at Finedon, a parish some five miles to the N.W. of Rushden, and records state that it existed when King Canute reigned before 1040.

In days before the railway train was so great a moving force in the land, the more slowly travelling road or river traffic called for hospitality as an absolute necessity for its existence, and for this purpose the most convenient places were chosen for these inns, along the lines of traffic.

The old-time Spital Hill, situated between Rushden and Higham Ferrers, must have had such a hostel built upon it in long ago days, and it quite possibly dated from the time of the Saxons. It would be built as a place for traveller sojourn, for sustenance, and for rest, often for the night.

These inns, from early times, were known by some sign, perchance at first a simple bough, plucked from a nearby tree, which later was changed for something more formal which also included a particular name.

None of these mediaeval inns remain unto Rushden, at least, the hostel or hospital buildings have disappeared, though in some cases, doubtless, a more modern building now takes its place on the same spot.

Before me lies the line drawing of a coin as illustrated in Bridge’s “Northamptonshire,” and it bears the inscription on its face side: “George Carter of Rushden,” together with an impression of the mounted George and the Dragon device whilst, on the reverse side of the coin appears “His half-penny 1666,” and in the centre are stars, and the single letters “C.G.E.” This coin is evidently the halfpenny issued by George Carter, the landlord of the George and Dragon Inn, which must have been an important “house” at the time of the great fire of London.

Many such copper coins were issued locally throughout the county at about this time, either by inn-keepers or tradesmen, but this is the only coin which a local tradesman struck, bearing the name Rushden as far as is known. The evanescence of things mundane is surely shown through this coin, for the site of this George and Dragon Inn is not even a Rushden memory now. There must have been an inn at one time, upon the spot where the central Co-operative Stores now stand. The sign was carved in stone, which was still embedded in the front of a house long after it had ceased to be a place of entertainment. The carving consisted of two heads, side face, with expressions of jolly men. The sign very possibly may have been “The Three Jolly Topers.” Simple observers may point out that there are only two topers represented, not three. This suggests the witch quotation from Macbeth “When shall we three meet again,” as placed under the picture of two donkeys. The unwary exclaim “But there are only two!” Then the retort comes “Just so, the third is out of the picture, braying.” In the case of the three jolly topers, the third was obviously the one who entered the inn.

To take up Rushden Inns from memory, or with to-day’s evidence to aid one, the name of “The Coach and Horses” will be recalled by many. The picturesque house and coaching stables are still intact, situated just above the Church (to the South) on the right side of High-street. This was an important coaching house on the high-way from London to the Midland centres. Here the horses were changed, and now, by a strange freak of fortune, the stable has been converted into a garage, an evidence of a hurrying age, where, all too often, the “cult of the commonplace” usurps the “vision of romance.” It may be of interest to record that, owing to the multiplicity of public-houses in the near neighbourhood of the “Coach and Horses,” its licence was transferred to the four roads house some years ago. This house bears the name of “The Oakley,” for was it not here, at these four roads, that the Oakley hunt met in Rushden fox hunting days?

A little farther “up street” is situated the “Waggon and Horses,” still under licence, though its sign has little significance to-day. In coaching days, however, it had a very real meaning, for this was the special house of the teamsters of that period, humble folk of quite a numerous fraternity, that drove wagon and cart to and from market and mart, bringing and taking the various essentials that kept farm and farmer in being. This then was the inn of the men of the farm, whilst the “Wheatsheaf,” situated just adjacent to the Churchyard at its South-West corner, was in particular the rendezvous of the farmers themselves, in former times.

Right up street, in old “Big Street,” is the “Compass” public house, which, when Rushden was a village, had a sign-post which bore a swinging sign, a painted pair of compasses and the legend “Keep within the Compass,” surely the best touch of proverbial wisdom ever found on a public-house sign-board.

Down street, and just below “Succoth Meeting,” on the opposite side, is still another of the old hostelries of Rushden, old in sign, if not so as regards the present building. This is the “Rose and Crown,” a name that has come down from early Tudor times, probably, a souvenir of that “Harry” the VI, who, as king, joined the houses of York and Lancaster together. This marriage of the Roses was shown on the old pictured sign of a past time where a crown was depicted above a half-red-half-white rose.

The modern Queen Victoria Hotel was built in special to house the commercial traveller, the outcome of Rushden’s manufacturing commerce, so grown of recent years, whilst the “Railway Inn” was known as the “New Inn” before the days of the railway. The most recent addition is the “Unicorn,” perchance the most fantastic of names, given to the public-house of the most prosaic of modern localities.

The Temperance Movement led to the erection of “The Coffee Tavern” in (?) 1881, and this has developed into a central commercial temperance hotel, known as the “Waverley.” Here non-alcoholic entertainment can be obtained for “man and beast,” though the beast of to-day is most often non-organic.

Highways and Byways, Turnpikes, Tollgates & Tollbars

Mr. Weller, senior, of evergreen memory, was indeed desperate when he vowed that he would “keep a pike.” It might well be considered the acme of a “don’t care” spirit in those coaching days of the early Nineteenth Century, for the turnpike was often placed in a most lonely spot, a place not within hailing distance of any other habitation. The turnpike took its name from the nature of its structure. It was so arranged that whilst the road itself could be barred by a high gate being swung across it, at the pleasure of the tollgate keeper, to bar animal and vehicle, a side turnstile allowed foot travellers to readily pass through. Thus was toll collected from four-footed beasts and from vehicular traffic, whilst the pedestrian was allowed to go freely through, by day or by night, and untolled.

Another derivation of turnpike is in evidence but it is of doubtful authenticity. It is this: before the turnpike was reached there was a byway that turned off from the main road, a road that by a circuitous route regained the highway at a point beyond the turnpike. By this means the traveller could avoid payment of toll, at the cost of a lengthy and usually a rough journey, for the byways in coaching days were noted for their almost impassable condition.

Old Rushden village was assuredly blessed, or otherwise, by its abundance of toll houses, gates or bars.

Rushden parish reaches right to the Higham Ferrers town closely packed street of houses. The first house on the right has a projecting window, a rough kind of bay. This was the “spying” window of the toll-house that commanded the “pike,” or toll-gate, that barred the high road between Higham and Rushden, and it is the only toll-house that remains in the vicinity. Another gate spanned the road leading to Wellingborough, that curved round at this juncture, but both buildings and bar have disappeared, and the road widened and curved where the toll-house stood.

A mile and a half from the site of the before-mentioned pike is a road that branches off from the Wellingborough-road, to the right, the one that crosses over the early Fourteenth Century Gothic bridge at Ditchford. The house and the little garden stood on the left-hand side of the Ditchford-road, but this small piece of land was gobbled up by an ever rapacious landlordism when the house was pulled down, to the great loss of good road-making, and that land belonged to the road if ever land did.

At Rushden centre, close to the Church, at the juncture of Newton-road with High-street, there was a toll bar, a kind of gate that was a single bar across the road, a kind of by-road in toll-gate days. The keeper lived in a stone cottage on the left side of Newton-road, since replaced by shops.

Up street, and then along Bedford-road, on the left side, a byway branches off to Higham Park, and though to Newton-road, which it enters at Newton Gap. The house was built on Bedford-road, to the left of the byway, but no trace of it is left now, not even in the contour of the land, for the house was so narrow that all was built on the roadside, and it went by the name of “The Salt Box,” a very descriptive title.

This Salt Box was a lonely spot, in toll-bar days, but not lonelier than was the West Wood gate, situated to the extreme South of Rushden Parish, and on the county border, where the “dead-road” to the left, known as the Forty-foot (locally Forty-fut) stretches away towards Podington parish. The toll-house stood on the Bedfordshire side of the road, and its site is the present “Gap.”

This gap and the old toll-house at Higham, then, are all that are left as memories of Old Rushden’s wealth of pike fixtures, yet all were there to collect travellers’ tribute, until about the last three decades of the Nineteenth Century.