Old Boston: whale

Showing posts with label whale. Show all posts

Saturday, 15 September 2012

A Grotto and Museum at The Whale Inn.

The Whale Inn (now demolished) in Main Ridge was once the home of a remarkable grotto and museum which, in years gone by, delighted many visitors and townsfolk. I remember seeing the last remnants of it in the early 1960's because luckily my Uncle (Bill Butcher) was the landlord of the Whale at that time. It was situated at the rear of the Whale and not the least interesting feature were the remains of some of the the old St. John's Church, which was at one time situated at the south end of town, and of which nothing now remains.

The room in 1971. The Inn was finally demolished a few years later when the Inner Relief Road was built through the town.

The museum and grotto was arranged by a Mr. Richard Ball and gained well deserved fame for the remarkable and original designs worked in the wall of the room in which the museum was held. These designs were worked entirely with various shells (chiefly oyster and cockle) and bottle necks. Worked in the wall in shells, could be seen a whale's tail, an elephant, a man shooting a bear and other decorations. At one end of the room was a sedilia, a stone seat for priests in the south wall of a chancil. This sedilia undoubtedly came from the Church of St. John and was probably acquired by Mr. Ball, together with many other relics of the church. These relics, chiefly carved heads and gargoyles, were to be found in the museum or in the grounds at the back of the Whale Inn. Even on the garden wall could be seen pieces of stonework which had obviously come from some ecclestical building. The principle feature of the museum was a skeleton of a Whale, measuring over 53 feet, which was captured in the Boston Deeps in 1847, visitors could enter the jaws and pass beneath the massive skeleton.

Monday, 2 April 2012

A not so well known Bostonian

Mr. John Rowland Storr (on the horse) was born in Boston in 1834, he married Martha Cocks in 1863 and the couple lived with their children in Boston where Mr. Storr was working as a tailor. In the 1881 census they were still living in Boston but sometime after this they moved to Skegness as the resort was quickly gaining popularity between 1881 and 1891. In Skegness Mr. Storr became a prominent citizen, being manager of the Steam Boat Company, co-owning the Sands Tramway and he caused a sensation in the resort when he captured the Skegness Whale in 1887. He died in 1920, aged 85, and is buried in St. Clement's Church, Skegness alongside his wife.

Saturday, 22 January 2011

Description of The Peacock and the Red Lion (1904)

A description of the Peacock and Royal and the Red Lion in 1904 by an American visitor Josephine Tozier.

The Peacock and Royal.

The front is decorated by bright flowers and long trailing vines growing from the window-boxes on the balconies, and above all is a most gorgeous sign of the most gorgeous of birds, from which it takes its name. We ate our comfortable little dinner in the coffee-room……it was nine o'clock before we left the table. We were too tired to explore Boston's winding ways, and, as it was too early for bed, I had this time secured a large front room looking over the market-place, and my sleepy friends soon found entertainment there.

The sound of a twanging banjo, which came from beneath our window, gathered the few stragglers in the market-place into a circle around the door of the Peacock. We could not see the musician from our window, but he broke forth as soon as the audience had gathered into the usual sentimental ballad dear to English ears. Some boys, with dogs at their heels, formed the outside of the meagre crowd, and then from a side street came belated mothers, pushing their babies home in perambulators. Polly says that at no hour in the twenty-four are English streets entirely free from perambulators, and, late as it was, three of these useful carriages joined the circle, the mothers, in true Boston fashion, being unable to resist music. The audience grew larger and the circle wider; the songs were succeeded by dialogues, and coppers rained plentifully into the collector's hand, until a baby set up an opposition concert, and an enterprising dog was encouraged by the noise to fight his four-legged neighbour. During the rumpus which succeeded, the musicians vanished. The dog riot was finally quelled, the babies trundled home, and the market-place in a few minutes was absolutely deserted for the night.

The Red Lion.

The Red Lion Inn, which faces the Narrow Bargate, has a more venerable exterior than the Peacock, but a decidedly decayed interior. It owns to the age of four hundred years, so no wonder that it is neither very clean nor very modern at the present time. It was formerly the property of one of the Boston guilds, and in the inn yard strolling players were wont to perform for the delight of all Boston.
There is still a very stern, solemn, Puritanical look about the dull little Holland-like city, in spite of the numerous houses of entertainment. Some of these rejoice in extraordinary names. There is "The Axe and Cleaver," "The Loggerhead," "The Indian Queen," "The Ram," "The Whale," "The Unicorn," "The Red Cow," "The Blue Lion," and "The Black Bull." They all furnish abundant liquid refreshment, with our favourite "The Rum Puncheon," and the picturesque "Angel." Even the streets have delicious names: "Paradise Lane," and "Pinfold Alley," "Liquor Pond Street" and "Silver Street," "The Worm Gate," "The Bar Gate," Wide, and Narrow, and "Robin Hood's Walk." There is "Pump Square," there is "Fish Toft Road," and in quaint "Spain Lane," in a house since demolished, until she was fourteen years old, lived Jean Ingelow, the writer. Boston is proud of its literary celebrities, and has erected a statue to Herbert Ingram, the founder of the London Illustrated News.