For want of finding a more appropriate thread, I’ve put this here. Feel free to move it as you wish.

Doing a bit of research in the New York Times’ Archive I came across this amusing snippet reported in 1880:

Apparently in the ancient times, Grimsby’s burgesses had a novel way of electing their mayor. They produced a shortlist of three candidates from their number and blindfolded them. Each of the three then had a ‘bottle’ of hay tied to their backs and they were all then led to the Common Pound where a calf was enclosed. It was given free rein to feed from any of the three bunches of hay; the one it chose, determined who the successful mayor was to be!

Perhaps all elections of modern politicians should be chosen thus?

Regards,
Neville

Here’s another but nearer our time. My grandfather bought a motorcycle, he lived in Grimsby in a rented house.
He could have bought the house outright for £100
He paid £600 for the motorbike !

Imagine that transposed to today - a vehicle costing 6x the price of a house !
Best
Rod

Bodleian manuscript circa 1270 - “Adam, son of John le Carter of Grimsby, grants to Gilbert, son of William Rayn, two selions of arable land in the field of the village of Grimsby, paying annually one halfpenny for all demands”

At that land rate, you could afford to buy Grimsby I guess?

Regards,
Neville

Walter has a go at the ladies and their fathers this time round but they are the ‘country lasses’ rather than the ‘fishwives’ – goodness knows what he would have said about them if he’d seen, (or smelt), them!

Walter White in the Corn Exchange 1865

“The rows of full-cheeked damsels who sat watching the baskets of eggs, butter and poultry in the market hall seemed at first to constitute a fourth class; but it was possible by a little observation to distinguish the three varieties into which they would fall when time should have lessened their plumpness. Listen to the talk of these damsels and you will hear them say ‘yis’ and ‘not yit,’ ‘you knaw’ ’soor’ for sure, and ‘perfectness;’ while in the adjoining division of the hall their fathers are bargaining for ‘o-äts’ and ‘whe-ät;’ or arguing about the ‘gainest way’ to a neighbouring village.

Among the names in lists on the church door I noticed Babb, Dabb, Poxon, Urry, Broddel and Gooseman, and I tried to identify the owners when I went back into the market-place. There was another name – Frederick Tennyson – which reminded me that more than one poet was born at Somersby.

On one of the tombstones in the churchyard you may read an epitaph on a watchmaker:

Here lies one who strove to equal time
A task too hard, each power too sublime
Time stopt his motion, o’erthrew his balance wheel,
Wore off his pivots, tho made of harden’d steel;
Broke all his springs, the verge of life decay’d
And now he is as tho he’d ne’er been made,
Not for want of oiling - that he’d tried;
If that had done – why then he ne’er had died.”

I think there are echoes of Walter in you Rod, – he ’says it how it is’ or at least how he sees it; open, frank, out-spoken and honest

That’s it for now as far as Walter is concerned but remember that name, I shall be using him from time-to-time in other posts on other threads to come.

Yes, I did a bit of research on that one and I knew that ‘halle’ was German for ‘hall’ but it seems the ‘Hamburg Borsenhalle’ was the name of a German newspaper so it would be quite logical that they would congregate, (probably somewhere near to the docks), where the newspaper was distributed.

Regards,
Neville

I love the description - it’s still pretty accurate in principal. Grimsby’s full of people walking around with their mouths slighly open and dressed in sports clothing so just a little updating rather than fundamental change.
Can’t wait to hear what he has to say about the Fish Wives of Grimsby
Cheers
Rod

Walter White continues into Grimsby, 1865.

Following the report on his coastal walk to Cleethorpes with such glowing recommendations, Walter changes his tune somewhat to a totally disdainful opinion when he reaches Grimsby. Brace yourselves all Yellowbellies!:

“From Cleethorpes it is about an hour’s walk along the beach to Grimsby, where the tall tower of the docks rises conspicuously against the sky. The way is toilsome, and the neighbourhood of the town so unprepossessing that you will pity the troops of excursionist who are attracted thither by low fares, seductive advertisements and hopes of a view of the sea. The long dull walk from the railway station is enough to dishearten even the sanguine; but if that should fail, their first prospect of the beach will lower their tone. But there are loud noises near the docks, and other signs of trade, and if you are curious to know who is the principal customer you may infer it from the number of German sailors who saunter about, or congregate where the Hamburg Borsenhalle is ‘taken in’.

Grass grows in some of the old streets, …. [He then relates the whole story of ‘Grime’ and Havelok]…….The market place was thronged with country-folk who amid their buying and selling found time to listen to the noisy babble of rival Cheap Jacks and to Professor Gammon, Q.D. quack doctor, from Hull, who stood on a chair to hold forth and exhibited wonderful physiological diagrams in proof of his arguments. How the rustics stared and opened their mouths! …….Of course no one could refuse to buy pills and draughts of so very kind-hearted a doctor and an immediate demand arose for little packets, ‘threepence each or fivepence for two’, and for phials filled with a crimson fluid.

While all this was going on I made an attempt to classify the faces, and found three marked differences of form and feature. There was the angular yellow face with hollow cheeks, and high cheek-bones, of which you see many in the villages of Lindsey; and the round flat face as red as beef, which makes up in colour what it lacks in intelligence; and the long pyramidal face, somewhat sharp above and broad below, with a big mouth and full chin, sallow in complexion, yet wearing on the whole a jolly expression.”

I’ll pause here to let you all take stock and look at yourselves in the mirror and decide which face fits; unless that is, you have decided to not tolerate any more insults.
The date of this report is almost exactly contemporary with your OP picture Rod which will make the next episode even more imaginable as it describes the Grimsby lasses – don’t miss it!

Ducking brickbats,
Neville

Nice to read about the Harrison connection, I’m rather a fan of his and of course he has a clock at brocklesby
In Appreciation
Rod