I never met my Great Uncle ‘Jack’, grandad’s elder brother. He was christened John Theodore Bell but probably got Jack because his father was also a John.
This photograph, part of a family group, was taken at Lound around 1901 (and colourised by me in Affinity Photo 2 on the iPad).
At that time, aged 27, he was working as a steel polisher in New Radford, Sherwood, on the north side of Nottingham. He had married Fanny Taylor, 26, and was living at 16 Deligne Street, with his in-laws, Leicester-born Edward Henry Taylor, 59, an army pensioner and his wife, Chelmsford-born, Sarah Taylor, 54, a lace worker specialising as a clipper – cutting away the connecting threads at the edges of the lace.
The 1911 census records that the couple had one child who died in infancy.
In the 1921 census he is still working as an ‘Iron & Steel Polisher’ in the Raleigh Bicycles factory in Nottingham. They’ve moved to 5 Edith Terrace, Radford, and mother-in-law Sarah, now 73, has moved in with them.
We’ve been out on location researching my September article for the ‘Dalesman’ magazine and I thought I’d go for an IMAX-style panorama of Charles Waterton’s nature reserve at Walton Hall, Wakefield, which, as you can see from the 1865 engraving, has now been restored to its former glory, thanks to extensive tree-planting and landscaping by the Waterton Park Golf Club.
Charles Waterton wrangling a cayman on the River Essequibo, Guyana.
I’ve dropped in contemporary engravings of Waterton’s adventures – a bit of a comic-strip version of the life of a complex character, imagining it as if it was a magic lantern show of his exploits.
Waterton getting a closer view of the Bempton Cliffs seabird colony.
As a graphic designer/illustrator, I’ve gone for layout first, text to follow. The placeholder text is a corrupted version of a text by Cicero, which I feel that Waterton might approve of as he had a habit of dropping Latin quotes into his natural history essays.
A cool-headed Waterton returns an escaped rattlesnake to its cabinet at a scientific meeting at Dr Hobson’s house at Park Square, Leeds.
As a military policeman, Doug’s beat included the pyramids and the ‘Sweet Water Canal’ (Ismaïlia Canal).
A time capsule in a small leather pouch: thanks to my cousin Kathleen Finlayson I’ve been able to read a letter that my father wrote in the YMCA in Jerusalem in the final months of World War II. Doug – Robert Douglas Bell – was then aged 25.
Doug’s niece, Kathleen Bell, as she then was, was aged 14. She hand-stitched the pouch herself when leather became available again at the end of the war.
Those initials after his service number indicate that Doug was:
CSM: a Company Sergeant Major
SIB: in the Special Investigations Branch
CMP: of the Corps of Military Police
MEF: part of Great Britain’s Mediterranean Expeditionary Force
1432272 CSM Bell RD
SIB, CMP, MEF.
24 Jan 1945
Dear Kathleen,
I hope you will excuse me for writing in pencil and also if the writing becomes a little unintelligible.
The reason is that I am writing in the Y.M.C.A. Hostel in Jerusalem. All the writing tables are in use so I am writing in an easy chair whilst balancing the pad on my knee.
Well, I am now on the 5th day of my leave, but as it took me a day to get up here, it’s only my fourth day in the Holy City. Like most places it has a modern side as well as new. The old city is still surrounded by a wall and has to be entered by various gates. The streets are very narrow and cobbled, and being built on a hill are very steep.
In Cairo
On Monday, which was my first full day in Palestine, I went to Bethelhem which is about eight miles away. I saw the Church of the Nativity and the Bethlehem Xmas bells, also the native craftsmen who work in pearl, ivory and silver. Their work is really skilled, having been handed down from one generation to another.
Mother of pearl brooch from Bethlehem which Doug bought for his mum, Jane Bell.
I don’t know whether this will arrive before the letter I sent home, but I have sent your Grandma some sets of photos which show the various places around here. She will show you the snaps of Bethlehem and Jerusalem, etc which will show you the places far better than I could ever express in words.
An earlier set of Will’s Cigarettes cards: Garden Flowers New Varieties (Series 2). 1939.
It is very cold here, but the air is very pure and clear so that visibility extends for miles. Before my leave’s over I hope to visit the sea and the Dead Sea. I enclose a few flower cards which I thought you might like. Perhaps you will give Dorothy one or two. Well, I must close now. I hope you are still enjoying your job.
Please give my best wishes to all,
Be seeing you soon,
Doug
Later that year, on the 23rd May, 4 years and 232 days since he enlisted, Doug left the Middle East and according to his record he was ‘HOME’ the next day. He’d arrived in the Middle East shortly before the outbreak of World War II on 24 August 1939.
Impending Release
He was given a glowing reference on his impending release from the army:
A very smart and competent W.O. who has been of great service to the Corps. Has a very high organising ability and has handled his duties with tact and skill. Has a very marked aptitude for man management and could be employed to advantage in a supervisory capacity.
In 2024, the Baring-Gould Centenary year, we’re celebrating – in artwork and animation – his work inspired by the time he spent as a young curate in Horbury: the hymn ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’, his folklore study ’The Book of Were-Wolves’ and his semi-autobiographical novel, set in a thinly disguised version of Horbury, ’Through Flood and Flame’. Cue thwarted love, dramatic disasters and the villainous Richard Grover, man-monkey and firebrand preacher.
Special thanks to local historian Keith Lister, author of ‘Half My Life’, the Story of Sabine Baring-Gould and Grace, my main reference for this Redbox Gallery show.
3D cut-outs of Annis, the Nightwatchman, Richard Grover the ‘Man-Monkey’ and our hero, Hugh Arkwright, should make a dramatic centrepiece for my Baring-Gould Centenary display.
I was hoping to squeeze in a few were-wolves too but Baring-Gould’s lively research into folklore but they’ll be stars of the short animation that I’m starting work on today.
As the title is Through Fire and Flood, I don’t think that peril number 2 will be a plot-spoiler for anyone who hasn’t read Sabine Baring-Gould’s melodramatic novel.
You wouldn’t want to meet Joe Earnshaw on a dark night, but if you’d been prowling around the mill yard at Arkwright’s in Baring-Gould’s novel Through Flood and Flame, you’d find it hard to avoid him as he’s the resident night watchman.
Meet our hero, Hugh Arkwright of Arkwright’s Mill in Sabine Baring-Gould’s thinly disguised version of Horbury in his semi-autobiographical novel of 1868, Through Flood and Flame. I’ve gone for him encountering peril number one, the flood.
I based the action-hero pose on an Indiana Jones movie poster but as Indy is holding his trademark bullwhip and our hero Hugh was negotiating the flood walking along a garden wall clinging onto a clothes line to keep his balance, I’ve shown him in a later scene which involves a rescue by boat (although in that case Hugh is catching the lifeline rather than throwing it).
Hat, frock coat and necktie, along with the character himself, based on Timothée Chalamet’s version of Willy Wonka.
Despite the melodrama and the larger-than-life characters, Baring-Gould’s novel Through Flood and Flame was semi-autobiographical. Annis Greenwell was closely modelled on Grace Taylor, a young worker at Baines’s Mill, who – in real life – he met, fell in love with and, a few years later, in May 1868, married at St Peter’s, Horbury.
The first character for my Baring-Gould Centenary display is taken from his Horbury-inspired novel Through Flood and Flame: Richard Grover, man-monkey (and firebrand preacher).
Willy Wonka raising his hat on the cover of last week’s Radio Times struck me as the perfect gesture to show Sabine Baring-Gould introducing himself when he arrived in Horbury in 1865 as the new curate.
My first rough (on the right) for the main display in my Baring-Gould centenary exhibit results in awkward shapes to fit the characters into, so I’ve decided to go for simple rectangles (left).
The characters will be cardboard cut-outs to give the effect of a Victorian toy theatre.
