From 1860: The imminent extinction of WC is foretold in petitions ["memorials"] to Earl Spencer, but he expresses no interest. In parallel, and increasingly intensely, local people engage in large-scale action to "preserve" WC (and other commons around London).
Petitions, distribution of posters and leaflets, public meetings, mass demonstrations, court cases, fences torn down, prosecution of fence breakers and the imprisonment of one of their number.
[At the same time, Commons across London and elsewhere are being defended by local residents...including Hampstead Heath, Epping Forest, Wimbledon Common, Tooting Commons, Berkhamstead, Banstead ...
Down with the fences — where?
ENCLOSURE OF WANDSWORTH-COMMON.
Upwards of 200 ratepayers have signed a memorial to Earl Spencer, in which they say: "That during the past few years enclosures to the extent of upwards of 100 acres have taken place on Wandsworth-common, and that some of these enclosures have been effected by private individuals; that within the last few months an enclosure to the extent of eight acres has been effected by the Brighton Railway Company, a footpath has been stopped, and this has taken away a pleasant and much frequented part of the common.
That for centuries the Parishioners and their families have enjoyed undisturbed the healthy walks on Wandsworth-common, and the custom of years, right or wrong, has given them an apparent right to this enjoyment.
Your memorialists view these encroachments with deep sorrow and regret, and if permitted to go on they must at no distant period lead to the entire extinction of Wandsworth-common.
Your memorialists, therefore, humbly pray that your Lordship would be pleased to exert your influence to preserve to the public those privileges which have been enjoyed from time imemorial, and to institute such inquiries with reference to enclosures not sanctioned by your Lordship at will lead to their speedy removal and secure to the public, the inhabitants of Battersea, and their children, the continuance of those rights they have so long and so freely enjoyed."
[Source: Link.]
"ENCLOSURES OF WANDSWORTH-COMMON".
TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES.
Sir, — I am greatly obliged by the publicity given in your paper to the memorial on the subject of the enclosures on Wandsworth-common. For many years it was the custom to bring before a public meeting of the parishioners any proposal for the appropriation of any portion of this common, and various sums of money have been paid by railway companies to the parish as compensation for the land taken by their respective railways; but very recently the Brighton Railway Company has enclosed with a well-tarred fence 6ft. high several acres of the very best part of the common, without, so far as I can learn, any authority, and without any apparent necessity.
The place where my children used to play for hours is now a sort of potato garden, and as I have very little space attached to my house the children I must shortly either tramp the dusty roads or be made uncomfortable all day in a small playroom.
What the railway company has done on a grand scale others imitate in a humbler degree. A heap of decaying cabbage stumps or mud is very carefully protected with a little trench, and a few sticks or bushes. This trench has a marvellous power of widening and deepening; the heaps increase in area, the bushes grow, and in the course of time these rubbish heaps become the eligible site of a detached cowshed, or something more objectionable, and if it can be so erected as to be a great nuisance to somebody, or face a gentleman's drawing-room, so much the better.
The property rises in value in the ratio of its annoyance. The gentleman grumbles, his wife grumbles, he talks with his gardener and consults with his solicitor, who advises him to purchase the lot.
There is, I believe, such a body as the court leet, but I have never been able to understand the modern use and power of this august body. Formerly, I believe, they used to hang people; but now the copyholders meet once in three or four years, have a good dinner, drink the health of the lord of the manor and his steward, and give permission to erect windmills and enclose such portions of the common as were a nuisance to the adjoining property.
One gentleman had a three-cornered nuisance of five acres conveniently near to his own house. The court leet gave him permission to enclose it, with the distinct understanding it was never to be built upon. The gentleman thanked the court leet and "stood glasses round;" in a few days this business of ditching and fencing goes on, and somehow it is not only the three-cornered piece which is enclosed, but another piece by the side of it, four times larger than that which was represented as a nuisance. In the course of time the rich man dies, and his executors advertise and sell as eligible building land that which 15 years ago was common land upon which I played a game of cricket.
These common lands are no doubt a great temptation; they appear to belong to nobody, because the public have enjoyed for ages the privilege of walking where they choose without any interference.
No such enclosures or encroachments have ever been permitted on Clapham-common; no railway has ever been able to cut a turf or make a tunnel, and persons are informed by large boards that they will be prosecuted if they dig gravel or shoot rubbish; but on Wandsworth-common, which is only a few minutes' walk through one of the most beautiful lanes within four miles of Charing-cross, you come on what is left of a piece of ground which has been dug and scored and scrambled for by gravel diggers, turf-getters, contractors, railways, schools, gaolers, astrologers, and others.
Now, Wandsworth-common is the same holding as Clapham-common, it is the same lord of the manor, the same court leet, and the greater part of it in the same parish (Battersea); but the wealth and united influence of Clapham-common are more powerful than that of Wandsworth-common. In the one case you have a large number of wealthy individuals; in the other (with few exceptions) a comparatively poor and a scattered population, and this is the only reason that can be assigned why Wandsworth-common has been sacrificed and Clapham-common preserved.
Yours obediently, J.C. BUCKMASTER
St John's-hill S.W.
See HistoryWandsworthCommon: 1863.[Source: Link]
QUOTE?
"...Wandsworth-common is the same holding as Clapham-common, it is the same lord of the manor, the same court leet, and the greater part of it in the same parish (Battersea); but the wealth and united influence of Clapham-common are more powerful than that of Wandsworth-common. In the one case you have a large number of wealthy individuals; in the other (with few exceptions) a comparatively poor and a scattered population, and this is the only reason that can be assigned why Wandsworth-common has been sacrificed and Clapham-common preserved."
20 September 1863: Threat to Cricket Pitch on Common...Buckmaster addresses meeting at County Arms ...
The battle [becomes more furious] 1863
THE ENCLOSURE QUESTION
The annual cricket match of the tradesmen of Wandsworth took place on Tuesday, on the cricket ground, Wandsworth-common, after which dinner was provided at Mr. Finch's, the County Arms, when there was a large attendance of the inhabitants, it having been announced that on this occasion would be taken into consideration what steps should be adopted to prevent the threatened enclosure of the cricketing-ground. The chair was taken by Mr. Smith, and the vice-chair by Mr. Frost.
Mr. McKellar read a memorial proposed to be presented to Earl Spencer; who is the lord of the manor, deprecating any further encroachment on the common, and particularly on the cricket-ground.
Mr. Frost, after alluding to the interests in the out-door games of the people manifested by her Majesty and the late illustrious Prince Consort, and referring to Lord Russell's observations on the opening of Baxter-park, Dundee; on the advantages of out-door recreation, complained that the ground on Wandsworth-common was being gradually appropriated to the use of proprietary bodies. Four acres had been attached to the station of the Crystal-palace line, and the Patriotic Fund school had acquired a large portion, and had stopped up a footpath, compelling passengers to go a considerable distance round.
However, the inhabitants would cheerfully put up with this last mentioned encroachment if it stood alone, for they were glad of anything that could promote so laudable an object. But it was now intended to dispose, on building leases, of the portion of the common where, at a considerable expense to the parishioners, a cricket ground had been levelled and maintained. There was no other spot in the neighbourhood available for cricket.
The memorial was adopted, a committee appointed and a vote of thanks accorded to Mr. Buckmaster who had obtained more than 300 signatures to it.
[Source: LINK.]
[PB: Interesting — the protection of WC arising out of sport. Where exactly was the cricket ground? North/East Trinity Road, near Heathfield Cottages?(I think early maps show an area there without obvious gorse or pits, or the Common in front of the Surrey Tavern, or the future "Trinity Fields"]
Also:
Brecon Reporter and South Wales General Advertiser, Saturday 17 October 1863 (brief mention)
[What is this: LINK.]
Christchurch Times, Saturday 17 October 1863
[Source: Link.]
The movement grows and spreads...<.p>
[PARAPHRASE or QUOTE PART OF]
It is Britain's oldest national conservation body. Its founders and early members included John Stuart Mill, Lord Eversley, Sir Robert Hunter and Octavia Hill. The last two founded the National Trust in 1895 along with Canon Rawnsley.
Lord Eversley, as George Lefevre, was a Liberal MP and became a junior minister at the Board of Trade in Gladstone's government. He held a variety of posts including Commissioner of Works. He opened Hampton Court Park, Kew Gardens and Regent's Park to the public.
Over the last century the society has preserved commons for the enjoyment of the public. It has also been active in protecting the historical and vital rights-of-way network through England and Wales.
Their author must have been Tom Taylor, who lived in Battersea — he later became . Its hostility to Earl Spencer is not concealed — in true Punch style, he is mocked and ridiculed. Its language implies the Common has been raped.
1865: Westminster Review, a leading intellectual journal of the day:
"Wandsworth Common is a morass now; it has been excavated to such an extent that the whole of the space from Nightingale-lane up the centre of the common is under water all the winter; it was under water up to the 20th of March, when I was there, and is now (April, '64) to a considerable extent; and although in the summer the water soaks away, it leaves the common in a very bad state, so that it cannot be used for any purpose."
"As an illustration of the results of excavating gravel in a reckless way, Mr. Rose mentions that he, with two of his neighbours, took the dead body of a man out of one of the pits, which had been placed (as traps are set for elephants in Africa) in the direction of a public path, the water being at such a level that he could not reach up to the bank.
"Lord Spencer's agent [, who appeared before the committee,] did not dispute the existence of these grievances but [FOR CLARITY ADD "denied"?] the responsibility of Lord Spencer. He mentioned an additional evil, which results from the inability of the police to exercise authority upon the common, except in the case of an actual breach of the peace. He stated that there were loose women living upon the common who had no other home, and who insulted and annoyed people as they went about. "
1866: A great Mansion House meeting, the Lord Mayor presiding. Colonel Adair and John Buckmaster represent WC.
1866: The Metropolitan Commons Act provides some protections for Commons within 15 miles of the centre of London. But much more is required.
1866: In a speech in the Commons in support of protecting Hampstead Heath, the proposer declares "Wandsworth Common has almost ceased to exist".
1867: Meetings at the Spread Eagle Inn and on the Common unite residents against Spencer. The South London Press, 24 August, reports a gathering of between 4000 and 5000 people "on the piece of land lying close to Clapham Junction, between the Freemasons' Schools and the cemetery" [i.e. now called St Mark's field, by Battersea Rise].
Spencer arranges for mounted police and hired muscle [bricklayers and "navvies in conventional smocks and red caps"] to be ready to intervene. Speakers declare themselves "personal enemies of Earl Spencer".
Things looked likely to erupt but Buckmaster, great orator that he is, stands high (on a photographer's cart — if only the photographer had taken a picture!), and persuades the crowd to act prudently [better word? use his?] — or risk attack and defeat.
He is largely successful in his efforts to keep the peace, though property developer George Todd [or was it his son Christopher?] is manhandled.
[He records ironically / laconically ? in his autobiography that he at any time he had 10? writs against him lying around in his house...]
The timing could not have been more troublesome for Earl Spencer [this was John Poyntz Spencer, the 5th Earl — known as the Red Earl for his great red beard] since he had poliifcal ambitions. In 1868 he was made Viceroy of a very fractious Ireland, and [faced a hard job persuading Catholics and Protestatnts that he would be ...
Almost immediately after leaving Cambridge Spencer was elected to parliament for South Northamptonshire as a Liberal, before departing for a tour of North America. He returned in December 1857, and within a few days his father died, leaving him as the new Earl Spencer. He was sworn of the Privy Council in 1859[2] and made a Knight of the Garter in 1864.
Spencer split from other whiggish aristocratic Liberals in 1866 on the issue of Russell's reform bill, which he supported, and his loyalty was rewarded by his appointment as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland when Gladstone returned to power in 1868.
Ireland came to be a major preoccupation of the remainder of Spencer's long political career. In this first tenure as Lord Lieutenant, he had to deal with implementation of the disestablishment of the Church of Ireland in 1869 and of the Irish Land Act of 1870, both of which measures he strongly supported.
Spencer, in fact, went further than most of his ministerial colleagues, including Gladstone himself, in arguing for the setting up of government tribunals to enforce fair rents on Irish landlords.
Spencer, along with the successive Chief Secretaries for Ireland, Chichester Fortescue and Spencer's own cousin, Lord Hartington, supported coercive legislation to deal with the increase in agrarian crime, but at the same time supported a policy of releasing Fenian prisoners when possible.
Spencer also had to deal during his tenure with Gladstone's Irish Universities Bill. In spite of Spencer's efforts to secure the support of the Catholic hierarchy for the bill, they opposed it, and it went down to defeat in the commons in March 1873.
The government lingered on for a further year, until the election defeat of February 1874, when Spencer found himself out of office.
[Wikipedia: John Spencer, 5th Earl Spencer.]
By the end of the 1860s Wandsworth Common had become notorious not just locally but throughout the UK.
The wholesale destruction of WC is increasingly used in the national discourse as a premonition [?] of things to come everywhere.
Here is a passage from a newspaper article in Ireland that [depicts/summarises] Wandsworth Common at this time — an article directed against Earl Spencer, by this time Viceroy [?] of Ireland (hence perhaps more sensitive to bad publicity there). [... fears of a united Ireland under Catholic rule...warning Protestants that if this is what Spencer does with his own land back in London, imagine what he'll do to Ireland
Spencer is personally blamed for the devastation caused to the Common.
"In times before he was Lord, Wandsworth Common was matchless for its beauty and its usefulness...", but
"Where he [Earl Spencer] found paradise he has made morasses — where health, fever; where life was sustained, invigorated, and prolonged, he has striven to produce pestilence and death...
"Hundreds of the lowest tramps and gypsies were permitted to squat in front their properties, to burn their fences, outrage all decency, till the aggregation of filth and excrement made small-pox and typhus imminent...
"One half of the Commons has been excavated, so that through the winter it is under the water. Notices are set up that the land may be had "for any purpose;" that "rubbish may be shot" there, of which the inhabitants for miles round avail themselves, to deposit rotting vegetable refuse, excrementitious deposits, liquid filth, oyster shells, house sweepings, and an indescribable collection of nuisances which no decent language could designate...
"[The Common is] used for the deposit of millions of loads of house refuse and dust bins. These are sorted and sifted; and a fire was kept burning for months, generating and distributing for miles the most unutterable stench... Wandsworth Common [is] one of those God-forsaken spots that even the policemen never interfered with.
[Ballyshannon Herald, 26 June 1869]
[ADAPT BUT DON'T QUOTE THIS:]
"On May 14th 1869, John Buckmaster, a leading light of the Common Defence Committee, was had up at Wandsworth Police Court, accused of "wilfully and maliciously destroying a fence enclosing the property of Mr Christopher Todd at Wandsworth Common." Todd had bought the land from the railway Company, but campaigners claimed they had no right to sell, as the Lord of the Manor had no right to sell it to them."
Notice the repeated references in speeches and articles to the Common as a source of life-giving fresh air:
"Now to three millions of people ...dwelling one great city, breathing and imbibing noxious vapours and exhalations from each other's bodies, pure air [is] of vital necessity; and open, breezy commons [are] the finest manufactory for pure air ever created."
[Source?]
Fresh air and open fields are a first necessity to this densely peopled and constantly growing metropolis. Even fishes must come up to the surface now and then; and the most swarthy son of toil must from time to time emerge from the dusky court in which he labours and fill his lungs with wholesome atmosphere.
[SLIGHTLY LONGER VERSION, BUT STILL ABBREVIATED]
Fresh air and open fields are a first necessity to this densely peopled and constantly growing metropolis. Even fishes must come up to the surface now and then; and the most swarthy son of toil must from time to time emerge from the dusky court in which he labours and fill his lungs with wholesome atmosphere.
The railways and the steamboats help us a great deal in this respect; and the Monday vans which in summer and autumn take our artisan families to picnic in green spots lighten the labours of our parish doctors and of our registrars of deaths.
Still, however, we hardly think enough of the necessity of enlarging the lungs of this great civic giant as he swells and grows. As we build houses so we should mark out public fields ... providing broad, open, well-planted spots of rendezvous, not too far and not too near, where the masses may enjoy their "outing ".
[The Times, 16 Feb., 1863.]
1868: Wandsworth residents petition to have the Common governed by the Metropolitan Board of Works. Unsuccessful.
Buckmaster discovers they would agree to take over the Common but only if they can sell off [one third?] to fund the "protection" [ ?] of the rest. Buckmaster hates the MBW.
Protestors particularly condemn the sale of "surplus" land to speculative builders by the railways and charities who had bought Commons land (cheaply) from Earl Spencer 20 or so years earlier.
Such land should have been returned to the Common, they say, but the railways companies simply respond that they own the land and can do anything they like with it.
Builders cut down trees on the Common, even outside the encroachments, and blocked pathways that had been used [from time immemorial].
But it was chiefly WC's filthy and dangerously unhealthy state that most exercised local people at this time. Over-extraction of gravel led to innumerable deep foetid pools. A danger in themselves (people drowned in them) but mainly an open invitation to be filled with noxious matter.
By 1869 WC had become in effect the Wandsworth Dump — for household and industrial refuse, dead animals, even human excrement. Residents were particularly anxious about the resurgence of cholera — there had been four major outbreaks in Wandsworth and Battersea since its first appearance in Britain in 1831.
c.1870 The "Wandsworth Common Preservation Society" develops out of earlier groups.
On April 13th 1870, "a large number of persons assembled and asserted their right of way by breaking down the fences". 300-400 people armed with hatchets and pickaxes re-established a footpath enclosed by Mr Costeker at Plough Green (possibly opposite the Freemasons Tavern): "At each crashing of the fence there was a great hooting and hurrahing."
"Samuel Sullings, a sawyer, aged 21 years, was charged with wilfully damaging a wooden fence enclosing a kitchen garden belonging to Mr. John Costeker, of St. John's-hill, Wandsworth...
"[The magistrate] fined the prisoner 40s, in addition to £15, the amount of damage, and in default ordered him to be imprisoned for six months."
But this was not simple vandalism. It was politically motivated, part of great popular local movement against the imminent destruction of the Common.
Costeker had fenced off and planted his "kitchen garden" only 18 months earlier, and there had already been countless attempts to break down his fences (including several by Costeker's own butcher, a Mr Clark).
[The suit between John Costeker and [?] Clark went on for years. It only ended in [?]]
The Daily News continued:
"On Wednesday last about 300 men of the roughest kind came to the place and knocked down the gates and a considerable portion of the fence. Fruit trees were damaged, and an immense amount of injury was done to the property."
A police constable said he saw the prisoner:
"call upon the mob to assist him to break down the gates. He threw a heavy stone at the gates, and after he got them down he jumped upon them and broke the panels. He picked up a large stick and walked across the ground. He said, 'This is our place, boys, and we'll stick to it.' "
John Buckmaster takes up the story:
"A footpath which ran diagonally across a piece of the common was stopped at both ends, and the land added to the gardens of adjoining owners. This enclosure deprived the public of a convenient footpath, and stopping it created much ill-feeling and indignation. The enclosure was protected at both ends with a high closed fence of a most formidable character, lined inside and out with sheet-iron. The one boundary was the railway, and the other the gardens of the common-stealers.
Men would assemble in small detachments in the evening and look at the fence. The police were on the lookout. They expected a siege some evening, and they were not disappointed.
One evening about a dozen men came out of a near public-house [probably the nearby Plough Inn] and with heavy hammers and stones attacked the fence at both ends, broke it down, trampled down the fruit-trees, and went out at the other end amid the deafening cheers of a large crowd which had by this time come together.
Enter the unfortunate Samuel Sullings.
Buckmaster continues:
"One stupid young fellow, who had recently come up from the country to work in the gardens, took up a large stone and deliberately knocked down some palings. His companions saw the police and called him away, but he was deaf, and the police took him into custody, and he was locked up.
"I happened, fortunately for myself, to be away, but, unfortunately for the young man, the whole affair was so sudden and unexpected that no arrangements were made to defend him. The next morning he was brought before the magistrate, confessed his guilt, and expressed his sorrow. He was sentenced to a fortnight's imprisonment.
"The common-stealers pleaded damage and pressed for a heavy punishment as an example. If instead of pleading guilty he had pleaded a right, the magistrate must have dismissed the case.
Buckmaster, in characteristic fashion, swung into action, pulling all the levers available to him:
"On my return I called on his employer, who expressed his willingness to give the man work when he came out of prison.
"I at once prepared a memorial to the Home Secretary for his liberation.
"I first went to the parson of our district and asked him to sign it. [This was JS Jenkinson, vicar of St Mary's Battersea, appointed to the position by Earl Spencer himself.] Now this man, who had often expressed to me his full sympathy with our efforts, began to make all sorts of excuses. The common-stealers formed part of his congregation. They were wealthy and subscribed liberally to his church, and unless they first signed it he could not without giving offence. This was the representative of the Church of the poor man, which ought to have protected him against the greed and avarice of the rich...
"I placed a table in front of a shop where hundreds of persons passed daily to the railway, and in the course of two days obtained nearly a thousand signatures.
"I took the memorial at once to the House of Commons and sent for Mr. Fawcett [Henry Fawcett, the blind Liberal member for Brighton], who was out. I then sent for Sir Charles Dilke [Liberal member for Chelsea, a noted radical], who suggested I should leave it at the Home Office.
"I knew what would become of it if it found its way to the Home Office. It would probably be referred to every person, from the messenger to the Assistant Secretary, who would refer it from one to the other, whose business would be to initial it, write on, "Seen — refer to Brown — look up precedents," "Refer to Asst. Sec. for instructions," "Refer to committing magistrate"; and before all was finished the young man would have done his time.
"I pressed Sir Charles Dilke to take it direct to the Home Secretary, who was in the House, and explain the circumstances of the case and its urgency. I called next day at the Office and found that the matter had been referred to the committing magistrate, who offered no objection to the prisoner's release, and I expected in a day or two the governor of the prison would receive an order accordingly.
"But no order came.
"I called again at the Home Office, and was informed that the papers had been forwarded to Balmoral. I waited two or three days, when I was informed there had been some mistake, and the papers would be returned to Balmoral at once.
"After the young man had served his term of imprisonment all but two days, the governor received an order for his release."
Buckmaster's frustration with the whole rotten, creaking, crushing machinery of state is tangible.
"A few days after his imprisonment his poor mother came up from Suffolk in great sorrow and went direct to the police-station, where she was informed by somebody, which everybody denied, that I was the cause of her son's imprisonment. I was deeply grieved when she came to my house, and her sorrow was the sorrow of a mother. I gave her some tea, made her comfortable, and lodged her for the night.
"I sent for the treasurer of the Common Fund, and we sent her home with the assurance that her son would not suffer or lose his character. She was much hurt when she applied at the prison to see her son. The door was slammed in her face, and she was rudely told to be off about her business. A person in distress is more sensible of kindness than those who have never tasted the waters of deep sorrow through the errors of their children."
But eventually Samuel Sullings was released, and given a delirious reception by the people of Battersea and Wandsworth:
"When his companions heard of his release they procured a van and decorated it with ribbons, laurels, evergreens, and flowers. An armchair was placed in the centre for the prisoner. A band of music arrived at the prison gates, and the prisoner was received with hearty expressions of sympathy and goodwill.
"The band, with van and procession, moved slowly to the scene of the late battle, for which the young man had suffered ten days' imprisonment. The procession stopped as long as the police permitted it in front of the houses of the common-stealers and played, almost to the bursting of their instruments, 'See the conquering hero comes,' with occasional yells of 'Who stole the common?'
"The procession moved through the parish to the schoolroom, where I presented the prisoner with a new suit of clothes and five pounds, provided by the committee. I persuaded the audience to go quietly home. I sent two men with the prisoner to his lodgings.
"Some of the men had been drinking and were getting noisy and troublesome, and when they are in that state you may as well try to persuade a milestone to go home. I did all I could, and as the young man was safe I left the others, and the next morning two or three of them were fined five shillings each."
London Daily News — Friday 15 April 1870
April 15 1870?
WANDSWORTH.
Samuel Sullings, a sawyer, aged 21 years, was charged with being concerned, with other persons not in custody, in wilfully damaging a wooden fence enclosing a kitchen garden belonging to Mr. John Costeker, of St. John's-hill, Wandsworth.
Mr. Charles Costeker, solicitor [PB: the "victim's" brother], conducted the case.
He said the complainant was lessee of a piece of ground running by the side of the railway, and facing the Wandsworth-road. It was enclosed by him in December, 1868, and since then put into cultivation. Persons had the liberty to wander over it for a number of years, and erroneously supposed that they had a right of way across it.
In September last Mr. Clark was found injuring the fence by hacking the gates at night, muffled up, which would be in the recollection of the magistrate, who fined him forty shillings in addition to the damage of ten shillings. Since then he had trespassed upon the land, and the complainant commenced an action in the Court of Queen's Bench, in which the question of the right of way was raised. Certain pleas were entered, but the defendant in the case suffered judgment to go by default with costs.
The complainant had remained in possession of the land ever since, but on Wednesday last about 300 men of the roughest kind came to the place and knocked down the gates fronting the Wandsworth-road, and a considerable portion of the fence. Fruit trees were damaged, and an immense amount of injury was done to the property. He submitted that even if there was a right of way it did not extend to more than a path of four feet wide, and that the parties had no right to act in the way they had done.
Police-constable West said that on Wednesday afternoon he was on duty at New Wandsworth, where he saw the prisoner, who called upon the mob to assist him to break down the gates. He threw a heavy stone at the gates, and after he got them down he jumped upon them and broke the panels. He picked up a large stick and walked across the ground. He said, "This is our place, boys, and we'll stick to it." Witness went after him and took him into custody.
In reply to the magistrate the complainant said Earl Spencer was Lord of the Manor. The land was formerly part of Wandsworth-common, but the Lord of the Manor sold his right over it in 1836.
Dr. Dayman said he was bound by the decision in the action. It was very desirable, no doubt, that open spaces in crowded localities should not be enclosed, but he doubted whether the public could claim to keep open Wandsworth-common without an Act of Parliament.
He fined the prisoner 40s., in addition to £15, the amount of damage, and in default ordered him to be imprisoned for six months.
[Sources include: http://www.chargeof the lightbrigade.com/wandsworth_common/years/1870.html]
THREE CHEERS FOR MR BUCKMASTER
Woolwich Gazette — Saturday 16 July 1870
WANDSWORTH COMMON
Samuel Sullings, who was imprisoned with hard labour for breaking down fences Wandsworth Common, and subsequently released on a memorial presented to the Home Secretary Sir C. W. Dilke, MP, was entertained by a number of his fellow-workmen at the Infant School, Battersea, on Saturday.
Sullings appeared in a new suit clothes, hat, and boots, which were paid for by a few friends. Mr. Churchwarden Buckmaster occupied the chair, and made a speech in which he endeavoured to show that those who had erected the fences were more guilty than Sullings; and the idea of saying to poor men, when their rights and enjoyment were taken away by rich that if they felt aggrieved they could proceed by action at law or indictment, was simply adding insult to injustice.
Three cheers for Mr. Buckmaster, three groans for those who had enclosed the common, and a vote of thanks to the vicar for allowing the use of the School Room, concluded the proceedings.
- BNA: Link.
As Buckmaster recalled, "Our first battle began and ended in a police court. But there was a still more formidable battle preparing."
April ?: The Committee fights an unsuccessful legal battle that April to preserve Plough Green (around modern Strathblaine Road and Vardens Road, off St Johns Hill).
ADD INFO ABOUT THE CASE INVOLVING THE 33 OLD PEOPLE, BROUGHT WITH DIFFICULTY TO COURT TO TELL OF THEIR MEMORIES — in Milne section
JCB devotes a lot of space to a story in which he personally does not come out very well. He is persuaded to seek a Commoner who would be willing to go to court to — funded and supported by the Commons Preservation Society. He finds one in the colourful half-witted "Mr Wrigsby", but things do not go to plan.
JCB seduces him with gin and the prospect of a memorable day out in London.
[PB: Using Ancestry, I have not been able to find a "Wrigsby" living in Wandsworth at this time. This is not surprising. Presumably JCB has disguised his name. Yes, it was Digby — see Shirley Passmore.]
[PB: Clearly JCB et al hoped to find in Wandsworth another Thomas Willingale — the old Commoner in Loughton, Essex, who was central to the struggle to save Epping Forest. See e.g.
We were advised unless we could secure a copyholder, of which there were not more than six left, or an Act of Parliament, the common must go. I managed to obtain a list of copyholders, and there was only one at all likely to become a plaintiff. He was a poor, ignorant old man, either a bachelor or a widower, living in a dirty, tumble-down, pantiled old copyhold, and obtained a miserable living by selling potatoes, brickdust, and treacle. I had often seen him, but had never spoken to him.
I mentioned these qualifications to the lawyer, who said, "He is the very man!"
I made some private inquiries, and found he had a weakness for gin and water. I passed his shop almost every morning about the time he was watering his greens and sorting his potatoes. The next
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time I said, "Good morning, Mr. Wrigsby." He returned the compliment. I praised his potatoes and at once ordered half a bushel. I allowed a few mornings to pass by, simply wishing him good morning. I said, "If you will call on me in the evening and bring up another half-bushel of potatoes I will pay you." He came up. I sent my wife into another room and asked Mr. Wrigsby to have a pipe. He sat down. I ordered some hot gin and water. We talked about the rates and taxes, and we agreed that the parish was going to the bad. I asked, "Who is your landlord?" He replied, "Nobody; it's copyhold. One gentleman endeavoured to purchase a copyhold, but he would not have been admitted by the Court Leet."
I said, "You are a copyholder?"
He replied: "Yes, but I never go to the Court. My father was a copyholder, and he kept two cows and a pony on the common, but I have no cows, and I am my own pony, and think it would be a good thing if the common was built over; it would bring a little more business into the parish."
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"Have a little more gin and water, Mr. Wrigsby. I think as you don't get any benefit from the common the least they could have done would have been to give you compensation, or a piece of the common. You are a poor, hard-working man, and I think they have behaved very badly to you. All the rich people round the common have been helping themselves pretty freely, and I daresay you know I have been doing what I can to stop any further stealing."
"Everybody in the parish knows what you have done, but you don't seem to have prevented it. I hear that fellow Dobs, who owes me a bill I can't get, is taking in a bit near the lane."
"Mr. Wrigsby, Dobs is a land-stealer, and you are the only man in the parish that can stop his stealing."
"How can I stop it? I have no money to go to law."
"Mr. Wrigsby, you would be the greatest benefactor this parish ever had if you would only enter your protest against this robbery of your rights. I will guarantee that you shall
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not be sixpence the poorer, and if we win you may be richer."
"Do you want me to go before the magistrate and complain? "
"No. I want you to sign a paper that you object to these enclosures."
"Well, as it's to oblige you, I don't mind, if you will promise to stand by me, but I can't afford any expense, and I depends on you. If the common was built over it might not do me much good. I daresay they would build shops as sells the same as I do."
"When shall we meet to sign this paper? Will you come to my house, or shall I come to yours?"
"Just as you like."
"Then, if you don't mind, perhaps you will come to me next Thursday evening at halfpast six. You need not mention to any one our conversation, because it only concerns the copyholders, and you are almost the only one left. Will you have a little more refreshment before you go home?"
"No, thank you."
As soon as I saw Mr. Wrigsby's back I ran
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off to the lawyer and reported our interview. He was highly delighted. He said, "At seven my clerk shall be there with the plaint; it has been prepared a long time. You and my clerk must witness the signature."
On Thursday Mr. Wrigsby was in good time. I had ready the long clay and tobacco and gin and water. We talked about parish — matters, and just as the first glass was finished I heard a knock at the door. I said, "I daresay this is the man with the paper." It was important that Wrigsby should have his wits about him. The clerk began reading the plaint, and I kept Mr. Wrigsby occupied in conversation while the rights of estuary and turbary were gone over. Mr. Wrigsby paid little attention to it. He made no remarks, except asking if all that writing was about the common. It was rather a long business, but at last we came to the end, "whereof the memory of man faileth not," and Mr. Wrigsby signed it in the presence of two witnesses. I shall never forget the expression of joy on the clerk's countenance as he watched Mr. Wrigsby put on his spectacles and sign his
[PB: "the rights of estuary and turbary". Turbary is the ancient right to cut turf, or peat, for fuel on a particular area of bog. Is "estuary" the same as "estover" — the right to collect and cut firewood?]
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name. He took a little piece of blotting out of his pocket and placed it carefully over the signatures, put the plaint in his black bag, said ' Good-night, Mr. Wrigsby," and was out of the house in an instant.
Mr. Wrigsby wondered he should be in such a hurry. He thought he had come to talk about the common. Poor Mr. Wrigsby little thought that he had commenced proceedings against the lord of the manor, the Brighton and South Coast Railway Company, the West London Extension, the South-Western, and six others. It may be said that I ought not to have taken advantage of Mr. Wrigsby's weakness, but it was our last extremity, and Aristotle would have defended it. Whatever came of it, Mr. Wrigsby could not suffer; he had nothing to suffer with. The lawyer asked me to accompany him to a Q.C. in Lincoln's Inn, who was the best authority on real property. A few minutes after ten he came into his chambers, and the lawyer laid on his table the plaint. After some general remarks about commons he turned over page after page, then turned it back again, then looked at the signatures,
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and appeared to me not very sanguine about the matter. Anyhow, we were now going to law, and there was some satisfaction in knowing it. I ventured in the most respectful way to say, "I think, sir, I ought to tell you that the plaintiff in this case is a very illiterate man." "I should think he is a damned idiot, or he would never be a plaintiff in a case of this kind. There is no law on the subject — the law has to be made. I will attend to it, but God only knows where it will end." We left, and for a few weeks everything was quiet. I occasionally called on Mr. Wrigsby, whom the lawyer had never seen, and what astonished me was that he had told this eminent Q.C. that he didn't want to see him. As soon as the other side knew Wrigsby was plaintiff, off they went to him, and told him that he would be sent to prison for signing an affidavit. He came to me in great trouble, and told me the enemy had been to him. I gave him a pipe and something to drink, and as we parted he said pathetically, "You will stand by me, won't you?" I replied, "To the very last." I frequently called on him
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with words of comfort and encouragement. At last he was cited to appear on his affidavit before the court, and immediately after he had an attack of gout, which I hoped would continue long enough for the case to stand over. I called on his doctor, and said, "I have seen Wrigsby. I don't think he is well enough to appear." He replied, "Don't you want him to appear? I can give you a certificate for the usual fee," which I paid, and Wrigsby did not appear. The Long Vacation was coming on, and Wrigsby still had the gout. The defendants were very anxious to force on the case, but were rather late. I hoped, and the committee hoped, something would happen. We continued at convenient intervals our meetings, and public feeling and most of the newspapers were with us, but they could not stop the lawsuit or say much about it. One paper praised the public spirit and intelligence of the plaintiff.
As soon as the courts opened Wrigsby had to appear. The doctor's certificate had lost its virtue. I saw him, and explained to him that, no matter what they asked, he was to
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say that he was a copyholder, and meant to protect his rights. He repeated this over tome. I begged of him not to say anything more. I said, "If they ask you your age say you are a copyholder." I called with a cab for the great plaintiff, but I had my fears. I felt as if we were going to an execution, but Wrigsby knew he was going into society, and dressed accordingiy. He had on a pair of primrose-coloured breeches and gaiters, which hung on his body in graceful fulness; a yellow plush waistcoat, with large glass buttons, which gleamed like cat's eyes; a blue coat, far too small, with a few brass buttons; and a large white choker twisted round his neck like a tablecloth. The appearance of the plaintiff in court was a sensation. Six defendants were each separately represented by counsel, supported by a strong detachment of lawyers. Where the carcase is there will the eagles be gathered together. As Mr. Wrigsby stood up the Vice-Chancellor looked at him, as well he might, for he was a natural curiosity. Counsel for the Railway Company began by a few loving remarks about Mr. Wrigsby's health,
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and in less than twenty minutes Wrigsby told the whole story of his signing the affidavit — what I had told him to say, that I would stick to him to the last, that he should not be sixpence the poorer for the lawsuit, perhaps better, that the common was no good to him and never had been, and it was to oblige me that he signed the paper. He didn't know exactly what it was about, but I told him it was all right. If an earthquake had swallowed up me and the others I should not have objected.
After all my work this was a terrible blow. The lawyer leaned over to me and said, "It is all up." The counsel and lawyers for the defendants sniggered at each other, waiting for the magic words, "Judgment for defen The thieves who had stolen the common laughed outright, and as I came out of court jeered at me. The Vice-Chancellor, a pious, good old man — may he rest in peace ! — said, "I shall reserve judgment." Then the counsel and lawyers stared at each other and leisurely packed up a cartload of papers and books and left. I never spoke to Wrigsby again, and I felt
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counsel's opinion of him at our first joyful interview was correct.
What was to be done? Another mass-meeting where we could pour out our sorrows and find comfort in the frantic hurrahs of the demos, who wanted to go at the fences! In a few days we heard rumours of an armistice. I never knew for certain; but I believe the good Vice-Chancellor had an interview with the lord of the manor, who consented to a friendly Act of Parliament by which all that was left of the common — about one hundred and fifty acres — should remain open and unenclosed for ever on payment of two hundred pounds a-year, or twenty years' purchase, secured on the rates of the parishes adjoining the common, which was about a farthing in the pound. The parishes cheerfully assented, and after five years the fighting ended.
The Metropolitan Board of Works employed counsel to oppose the Bill, and we were put to great expense by the opposition. We had to find the money for this struggle as best we could. But the Board of Works spent the ratepayers' money in resisting the Bill. A more unprincipled and unjustifiable act could only be explained by the rottenness and corruption of the body that promoted the opposition. Happily they failed.
During the whole of this agitation I was busily engaged in teaching. My domestic life was not improved by the constant service of writs at the instigation of common-stealers and speculating builders. At one time I had seven writs in the house, which were handed over to the solicitor for the committee.
"If, when the two gravel diggers came to complain about their potatoes, I could have foreseen what was before me, I should never have written a letter to the newspapers."
13 February 1871: A petition arrives at Parliament, followed swiftly by legislation "brought by Mr. Cowper-Temple and Mr. Peek." After some to-ing and fro-ing between the two Houses, on 26th July 1871 the Wandsworth Common Act was passed.
Hoorah!
WC was transferred to a group of [how many? who?] "Conservators" elected by inhabitants of Battersea and Wandsworth for a £250 annuity paid to Earl Spencer (down from the £500 he originally demanded). This annuity and maintenance costs were raised by a special rate levied of the inhabitants.
[Either say something about the Conservators here — how many / how and where they met — or link to the article, if there is one.]
John Buckmaster did not himself become a Conservator, though several of the old campaigners, such as ...Ransome and ....?, did.
There work was cut out . money remained exceedingly tight — not least because about half went straight to Earl Spencer — so little could be done to restore the Common.
[CHECK AMOUNTS]
There was no let up in debates about the parlous state of the Common — e.g. to keep it wild, or to "parkify" it? (A discussion that continues today, of course.) Another question was over the digging of a new lake.
People complained about....
And what of the money that Earl Spencer that received every year?
[Is it still being paid? Wimbledon Common Conservators reached an agreement to pay their levy off in a lump sum in the 1970s. Did WBC? I have asked Sarah McPherson to try to find out.]
>> Coda — Buckmaster, Spencer, the MBW, LCC [but by this time JCB had moved away, where he devoted himself to other cherished projects, such as founding the the Free Library >>
CHECK for Buckmaster and Wandsworth Common in earlier years and those years I have nothing for him. There may be other refs. He appears to vanish in relation to WC after 1871 — or does he?