It's a fair cop.

In Boston Court, George Ruthen aged 62, no fixed abode, cheerfully pleaded guilty when he was charged with being a suspected person and frequenting Strait Bargate with intent to committing a felony on the night of September 12th. 1921.
P.C. Rylott, giving evidence, stated that at 11.30 pm he was on duty in the Market Place, and saw the prisoner go across the road and try Loveley's door. He ran from there to a boot shop next to the Scala cinema and then went across to Harwood's the ironmonger's and tried that door. He then went to the Star Tea Co.'s shop in Strait Bargate and tried to break the lock. The constable got up to him and asked him what he was doing.  He said he meant to get in. He looked at the window and said, "I see it's Co-op, I thought it was a jeweller's."
He was taken to the Police station and charged, He said, "It's quite alright. You know what I have done, and what I intended to do."
The prisoner asked no questions and had nothing to say in reference to the charge. "All I wish is to go to the Assize's. " he said.
The Clerk of the court replied, "It is extremely likely you won't have any choice in the matter."
George said "It is a matter of indifference to me, sir."
The court passed sentence of three months hard labour.

Odds and Enders.

A mix of pictures that don't fit in any category.

The Cattle Market in 1959.

Hoppers Jewellers (opposite Oldrids) in Strait Bargate.

The Station, looking toward West Street crossing.

Hairdressers advertisement.

A painting of Boston.

A Boston Police Force button.

The Stump on a corkscrew.

A receipt from Bothamley's (was opposite Marks and Spencers site).

Policing in 1885

Mr. John Barton, of 3, Fydell Street was a policeman in the constabulary of the Borough of Boston in 1885. In 1935 he looked back at policing in Boston during the 1880's.

Then it was all patrol, footslogging around the town for as much as 63 hours a week. "But we had our own special traffic problem in those days," said Mr. Barton. "We had to keep our eyes open, and if we saw any cyclist riding through the town at ten miles an hour he was summoned for 'furious riding'."
The policeman of 1885 was dressed in a blue frock coat and wore a stove pipe helmet made of solid felt and reputed to be able to stand a steam-roller running over it ! He worked nine hours in every 24 for seven days a week, with extra time on special days - but no extra pay ! At that time there were 15 men on the Boston force, Mr. Henry Bellamy the Chief Constable, three sergeants and 11 constables. There were more public houses then and they were open all day from 6 a.m. and the beer was stronger so it can well be appreciated what was one of a constable's most important duties.
But what of the appearence of the town in 1885. He tells us that many of the streets were cobbled then and were lit by fish-tail burners and a man used to come round at night with a box of matches to light them. Plate glass was unknown to Boston then and even if a shop had a big window it consisted of small panes.

1880's Boston.

There were few means of enjoyment for the townspeople, there was only the beer-house, no cinemas, no wireless, perhaps an occasional play at Shodfriars Hall or the Corn Exchange. The only park was that in South End and motor cars were unknown. There were at that time a considerable number of navvies left in the town, dredging the river from the Sluice to the New Cut so as to improve the outfall and Dock entrance and these navvies drank quite a lot of beer. However, there were a good number of the townspeople who could run them close, and on Saturday nights there would be practically a procession to the police station from 10 'o' clock to midnight. Sometimes the station was filled up with drunks. It was not an easy job, often they would be spoiling for a fight and two or three constables would have to frog-march them, others would lie down in the street and the constables would pick them up and wheel them to the police station on a truck.

"Policemen in those days didn't get pensioned off until they were worn out." concluded Mr. Barton. " There was no age limit. When they were thought to be done and unable to do any more, it was hoped they would die quick to save the ratepayers money."

Lincoln Lane Area

During the 1960’s the Lincoln Lane area (almost opposite the Stump on the other side of the river) was demolished in preparation for redevelopment.

The Blue Lion on the corner bottom left, and the Victoria Inn on the far right corner.

The area included Irby Row, St. George’s Lane, Lawrence Lane, Leicester Square, Pinfold Lane, Stanbow Lane, Rosegarth Street and Lincoln Lane itself. Earlier demolition and the passage of time had already brought Lincoln Lane to its knees and from 1932 to 1961 between 75 and 100 properties had been pulled down by the Corporation or by their owners.

Many of the buildings and homes were up to 200 years old and four of the Stanbow Lane cottages were once used as a hospital.

The cottages that were used as a  hospital in Stanbow Lane.

When it was built the area was a prosperous place, boasting among other homes, two or three large merchant’s houses and gardens. It was mainly residential but later a few pubs (the Stag and Pheasant, the Hop Pole, the Victoria, the Blue Lion etc.) appeared as well, and then, as slum clearance produced waste land, shops were built and industry edged a foot in the doorway, including the shoe lace factory of Arthur Whittle and Co. Ltd., a slaughterhouse, George White’s saleroom and even the Fire Station had its home there but by 1961 there were fewer than fifty houses occupied.

Part of Lincoln Lane.

But what of the residents in 1961 that were told they would have to leave? At the Victoria Inn, Mrs. Agnes Berry, wife of the landlord said, “I’m not really bothered, but I know most of my customers are” she also looked back at some of the characters of the area she knew, there was Topper, (a chimney sweep who sported a top hat) Shetty, Weary butterfly, Sooty Sue, Old Pol Simpson, Old Nel Drury……….
At 13, Rosegarth Street, lived Tom and William Cushley, brothers (at 66 and 70 respectively) and both retired Corporation dustmen. Tom had won the Military Medal in the First World War and it was his fourth home in the area. He said, “We’ve both had 35 years on the ash carts. We live here happily together. It suits us and we’re never badly*. Course we don’t want to move!” “I spent four years out in France without a scratch. Now, after five years here they want me out, and it’ll be the fourth time.”
At 16, Rosegarth Street, Mr. and Mrs. W. Hough, with a growing family, took a different view. Said Mrs. Hough: “We’ve always lived in old houses and it will be a pleasure to get away from this and into a decent one. We’ve no bath and no electricity, and the place is damp.”

Rosegarth Street.

At her grocers shop in Lincoln Lane, Mrs. May Peacock, was worried. “I’ve been in this shop for 24 years, the ground opposite has been waste all that time and we want to know definitely what’s going to happen, and when. This shop is my living.”

The corner of Stanbow Lane and Pinfold Lane.

So, back to today, it was all eventually “rejuvenated” and on the characterless, red-bricked site now (2011) among other things are the Police Station, the Department of Employment, an empty Kwik-Save supermarket and the Bus Station.
*In Boston “never badly” means you’re never ill.

Boston Pranksters

Prior to the Municipal Corporations Act of 1835, towns were guarded (more or less) during the day by constables and at night by watchmen. At Boston a watch house stood at one end of the old Town bridge (see below) which was demolished in 1913 and, according to an old diary, the watchmen were called ‘Charlies’ who in the winter wore ‘three decker’ topcoats, and carried big rattles and lanterns lit by tallow candles.

The watch house that stood on the old Town Bridge.

Boston had its fair share of young men who, with the absence of a modern Police Force, delighted in playing pranks under cover of the night and here are two examples.
On one occasion a ball was being held in the rooms above the old Butter Market (below) and a certain Miss Tunnard who lived in Wide Bargate was to attend.

The old Butter Market.

The house in Wide Bargate where Miss Tunnard lived.

She ordered a sedan chair and when the bearers arrived they were invited indoors out of the frost and snow. After a short interval the lady appeared, and the bearers, having refreshed, were prepared to resume their duty but to their amazement the sedan chair had disappeared! A search was made in vain, and the lady missed the ball. The chair was not discovered for many days until it was seen in a pond of the adjoining paddock (now the Central Park) where it had been thrown by the ‘Jokers’ and become covered with ice and snow.
But the best ever prank must be the following. A waggon laden with wool arrived opposite the Red House in the Market Place too late for delivery, and the horses were taken out and the vehicle left there for the night. Then the pranksters came along and saw their opportunity, the waggon was unloaded and taken to pieces, and both vehicle and wool were then carried through the narrow passage to Crown Courtyard, and there re-erected and re-loaded in the courtyard. Next morning when the waggoner and the residents of the locality found the waggon and its load standing in the back court they declared it was the work of the devil.

The brick building on the left below was known as the Red House and the passageway on the extreme left is the narrow passage that the dismantled waggon was taken down to be re-assembled in the courtyard at the bottom.

Human remains

In April 1900 human remains were found in a sack in Boston and were about to be sent away for disposal before they were discovered.
The scene of their discovery was the Railway Goods Yard where they had been sent to be forwarded on in the ordinary course of business by a rag and bone man. A railway employee, who knew something about the human skeleton, noticed a bone protruding from the sack and realised it was the forearm and hand of a girl!! He told James Carr, a carter who was unloading in the yard and Carr took possession of the bone and hurried up to the Police Station

The Railway Goods Yard at Boston.

The police were soon upon the scene, with them came the Medical Officer and the Sanitary Inspector and others officially concerned (as at this time it looked very serious) but after a while it was proved there had not been any murder or tragedy.
Enquiries showed they were broken up skeletons from the sale of the late Dr. Snaith in Pump Square and their recovery at least rescued them from a fate that would seem incredible to us today.
There were several skulls - the number was variously given as three and five - and the bones of an adult’s and a young female’s skeletons. They were all contained in the sack, and their destination, along with a truck load of animal bones, was a factory at Newark that crushed bones and turned them into manure!!
It seems the skulls and skeletons were “cleared out” at Dr. Snaith’s sale as a job lot, they were taken to a rag and bone yard by a man named Blades and received in the normal way without too much attention being paid to them. Their man was loading iron when the bones were brought in and were passed as ordinary commercial animal bones.
The human fragments were eventually decently interred under the directions of the Medical Officer.

The Birch

In April 1900 an eleven year old boy, Frank Rear of 19, Witham Street, Boston was charged with stealing a watch, the property of Mr. John Perrin of Norfolk Place, Boston.
On market days Mr. Perrin had a stall in the Market Place and saw the accused and another boy loitering near his stall which among other things had three watches on it. He was very busy during the afternoon and when he finally came to a quieter time he noticed that one of the watches was missing and informed the police.

Boston Market.

John Broughton, seven years of age, of Colley Street, Boston told the court that on the Wednesday he went with his playmate, the accused, into the market. Frank stopped in front of a stall and said, “Shall we sneak a watch”, the witness saw him take a watch and identified the one produced. They then went to the pawn shop, Frank went into the shop and John stayed outside. Frank was given two shillings and sixpence for the watch and when he came out of the shop he handed John a shilling, two pennies and a half-penny. Frank Rear was found guilty and sentenced to receive six strokes with the birch rod.

Fire in Bargate

In the early hours of Monday 9^th September 1906 a fire, which resulted in the death of a young girl, occurred at 27 Strait Bargate (the present site of WH Smith) the premises of the Bargate drug stores. The household consisted of the proprietor Mr Charles Fowler Cooke, his wife, their two daughters (Ellen Gertrude, aged 23 and Eva aged 19), and a servant girl Elizabeth Jessop. Mr and Mrs Cooke slept on the second floor, the two daughters occupied a bedroom at the top of the house and the servant also had a room on the same floor as the daughters.
The family went to bed at about 11 o clock on the Sunday night and everything was alright, shortly after midnight Mr and Mrs Cooke were woken up by a noise that sounded like tins falling and Mrs Cooke went to investigate. On going to the landing she saw through the glass panel of the warehouse door that a light was burning inside and rushed back to her husband and told him. She hurried to rouse the two daughters and the servant while Mr Cooke attempted unsuccessfully to put out the fire with a hand basin and a bucket of water. Mrs Cooke succeeded on waking the sleepers at the top of the house and they descended the stairs but when Mrs Cooke and Eva Cooke reached the street they discovered that Gertrude and the servant were missing.

Meanwhile, someone had gone and told a police officer and he blew his whistle and raised the alarm. When he arrived at Cooke’s the place was ablaze and numerous helpers were on the scene. Mr Morgan from a local shop heard that the two females were trapped inside and got a ladder from the Red Lion hotel in the same street and attempted their rescue. There appeared to be a girl at each of the two top bedroom windows and from the one occupied by the daughter Gertrude came heartrending screams but unfortunately the ladder only reached as far as the balcony. Miss Jessop, the servant, let herself down onto the balcony a distance of about 10 feet and through the efforts of two bystanders she was saved.
All the incidents above happened within the space of about 10 minutes and then the hose cart and a longer ladder appeared on the scene. “Save my child!” the parents cried in anguish and Fireman Haynes and J A Wilson went up the larger ladder and thoroughly examined the two top bedrooms, looking under the beds and in every corner that the girl might have hidden herself to hide from the flames. The remaining members of the Volunteer Fire Brigade arrived and fortunately a plentiful supply of water was available and the brigade worked furiously to get the fire under control. Hundreds of people were attracted to the spot by the glare and every now and then as some new part caught fire the sparks ascended and descended like a sky rocket. Thousands of gallons of water were poured into the premises and the destruction of the whole block was prevented.
The general confusion was added to by the constant bursting of bottles and shattering of glass etc. in the shop and dispensing department. The roof, considering the flames were fiercest in the top story held up well and it was about 3am when it fell in with an awful crash.

Above: The morning after the fire.

At about 7 a.m. in the morning the remains of the young lady, charred beyond recognition, were discovered on a burnt bed in the debris, having evidently fallen through when the roof gave way. It is thought that she left her mother and sister coming downstairs, returning with the purpose of saving the servant. Exit by means of the stairs was impossible and the servant realising this escaped from the window begging the deceased to follow. She was either too frightened to do so or was overcome by the smoke and sank back unconscious on the bed that her remains were found lying on, there to meet her fate.
The cause of the fire was attributed to mice gnawing matches and the remains of Miss Ellen Gertrude Cooke were buried in Boston cemetery on Thursday 12^th September 1906.

Below: The scene today.