Funny old raggy doll.

 Market day in Otley. We went over a bit later and had to cue in traffic to park up before the junk shop visits. I came on late last night and started poking around searching google for Quaker records in Burlington county New England. There is tons and tons of it. I have fallen into "old Edmunds rattlings" again and I am looking for Matthew Watson and his wife Anne Pierson, who was married to Edmund before his death. This story is still bugging me and drawing me in. So there I was poring over millions of words from these on line records until well after midnight.....
This is wildly too late for me and I am tired now. Hence why we were going over to Otley later than I would have liked. You would think that I must know everything there is to know by now! but "old Edmund" still rattles around .
So first a doggy walk! up to the old grave yard in the rain. This is just by the airport which was rather interesting today as Three fighter planes were zapping around. Lee told me they were American.

 Then over to Otley through the traffic to park up and fight our way through to the 20p shop. This would be why I like to be early out. I shall remember that next time "old Edmund" starts to rattle and pull my strings to get me to look into his life......I do not do late at all well. It makes me grumpy and I miss the best bit of the day...the sun coming up.
So 20p shop!!!!! I found this old raggy doll which needs the neck restuffing....she is a characterful one this girl. I originally saw her in a basket...picked her up and had a look....then put her back when I caught Lees eye...he was giving me the wrinkled nose. Which basically means NO!

 I went through the rest of the shop, finding a picture of a fairy in a shell frame and then went back to rescue her. She is currently sitting on the stool in the kitchen.
So what am I going to do with this 20pence raggy doll that is actually quite sweet? I think restuff the neck but otherwise let her alone to live out the rest of her days in peace. She is very badly made and I dread to think what I am going to find as stuffing!

She looks like she has been mended as well, so some one loved her. I think that is the least I can do for her is give her a home any way......

She is very home made and her clothes are of 1980s poplin type fabric.....I have not seen that for years in fact since the 1980s!!! so I conclude that is when she was made.
a modern old raggy. er hang on there the 1980s were 37 years ago!!!!!!

 A broken neck she had. So i unpicked some of the stitching at one side and restuffed the space where the two lots of stuffing had separated........ and yes I found out what she is stuffed with. It is Kapok ...I am not sture if that is how it should be spelled but that is what it was called. I have not seen that either for a lot of years. It was bought by the bag........I used to sell it in my haberdashery department in the 1980s ......I worked in a department store.

 This lettering/signature was on her lower back. I can not make it out........

 And here she is with her neck restuffed. her arms have been reattached too.....that is of course unless she was made to look like this on purpose. like some of the primitive folk art raggy dolls I have made from American patterns for "art dolls" these are aged and stained to look just like this.

 all the stitching around the arms and legs shows and is quite messy.......

 Lee says she needs a good wash. I am going to leave her as I found her. I have repaired the neck and put her into a dress I found another doll wearing, and put her own clothes back on her.....

I was thinking that I would replace her hair with new wool, but I now think I will leave her as she is. for now she will live on the kitchen stool by the doors.

new arrival

We went straight down to the post office. The postman left me a card in my letter box to say she had arrived. Only I had to wait until the office opened to pick her up. No one takes in others packages now on the terrace. Not since the shouting man threatened Lee over a parking space he knows he has no rights too anyway. Everyone comes and goes with out passing down the terrace as we used to either. There is no good mornings and comments about work or weather. I come and go through my garden now, sad isn't it? It is not that I am scared of the shouting man, it is that I do not trust myself . I too can be vicious when crossed, I had a police report all ready to send reporting him for bullying and abuse. The only reason I did not send it is that Lee is here on his own mostly now, and I know Mr shouting man would carry out every one of his threats. The police report would aggravate the situation. so for the time being I am keeping quietly out of the way. Mr shouter's time will come I have no doubts about that.

Today I go to work for 2pm. I had yesterday off. after dog walk and father's visit I set about the gardens,

The new doll first picked up and her wrapping of bubble wrap taken off...she is a lovely doll in great condition......

I bought her on e bay. I found another from the same artist in a junk shop in Otley with my American doll collector friend......I now have three. That is a good number to have.
We had to rush back from our dog walk as father phoned to say he was out the back. I had told him to park by the back gate and go in through the garden to the house. He thinks I should report Mr Shouter to the police too.
Mr Shouter I have heard bragging about his threats to Lee too. So he does mean to carry them out then.
Proceed with caution.
So father came to see us and I showed him my new doll and told him all about trips to Whitby and Scarborough and explained that I am going to Hull next week to see an old school friend.
Father copied the face of the doll and told me all about a church he visited in Greece with Lee's mother. Lee's mother left him in the 1980s!
Father is otherwise well and enjoyed his coffee and chat and some chocolate covered rolls. He did not stay long Jeremy Kyle show beckons,

Whitby. The church and creepy mansion.

 Here we are. Whitby. The best part. Caedmon's cross at the top of every one of the hundred and ninety nine steps I breathlessly counted on my way up. I braced myself at the bottom, put my handbag on my left arm and balenced my camera in the top for easy access. I hung on to the rail and well "went for it" my balance is never good now, but it is a good deal worse on steps with height! I also had to hang on to my floaty white skirt with the handbag side as it turned out to be the moment the wind tryed to turn me into an ageing Marilyn, Now was not a good time for a wardrobe malfunction.
Reaching the comparative safety of Caedmon's cross was a small achievement, I said nothing, took some deep breaths and launched my camera trigger finger, which took my mind off my skirt and the wind took its opportunity  .. Now this cross......this is 20 feet tall and carved from solid sandstone quarried from near Hadrian's wall .It commemorates Whitby's  great poet Caedmon who lived in the 7th century. He was Whitby abbey's hymn maker at the time that Abbess Hilda founded Whitby abbey. This would be before she became a saint, as this is part of the work she did which makes her a saint.
“To the glory of God, and in memory of Caedmon, Father of English sacred song. Fell asleep hard by AD 680.”
The only poem that still exists is this hymn.

Now [we] must honour the guardian of heaven,

the might of the architect, and his purpose,

the work of the father of glory^[b]

as he, the eternal lord, established the beginning of wonders;

he first created for the children of men^[c]

heaven as a roof, the holy creator

Then the guardian of mankind,

the eternal lord, afterwards appointed the middle earth,

the lands for men,^[d] the Lord almighty.

Caedmon was illiterate, but he could sing. Abbess Hilda took him in as a monk. The creation hymn has been passed down to us, this is the translation, as I am guessing it was first told in latin.


The cross has much carvings and runes. Tolkien I know took much inspiration from here and Caedmons one  hymn.
The middle Earth pub is where JRR Tolkien stayed on his visits to whitby. It was always one I love to visit.

 St Mary's church, Whitby. I know no other quite like this one. As you know if you read this blog, I can not resist and find one most days off.....This one was my first way back as a cute little girl with pigtails. My dad brought me here . We visited Whitby often. We always started at the top and then worked our way down to the pubs . all of them.
This church represents the independent spirit of Whitby and I suppose me too. I have not been back to Whitby properly for a very long time. My Grandmother lived up by Pannet Park in the sheltered flats there for about 10 years. She moved from Castleton in 1983.
My dad had a farm just by Whitby. He died in 1969 just before Christmas that year. He drove his car into a wall purposely killing himself as he had been diagnosed with heart disease and did not wish to face the treatments of surgery and giving up his lifestyle of drinking and smoking. He tried it, He did not like it.
My mum never got over his death and the manner it came about. I was taken into care and then sent to a Methodist boarding school.

 They tried and failed to crush my spirit. they came close I can tell you that. I survived them and then got myself into loads of trouble anyway.
When I was in trouble I came here. Believe me...in those days it was a very lot.

 This day I was here a a tourist, some with a simple heart to sample Whitby, the views and fish and chips in one of my fave pubs of all time.
This day I was with four Americans , in a hire car and well armed with my new camera. True tourism to soak up the Yorkshire air and atmosphere. This day there was plenty of all of that, and the sun was unusually out.

 My friends collapsed onto a bench over looking this view. I walked what is left of the coastal path to the top and took photos....

 Whitby Abbey!. After I had been to the church I always went and sat in the Abbey on the old steps....
I spent many hours here. It was just an old ruin up on the cliff. not really very touristy then. There was no pay to enter either. That came later. I refused to pay this visit. I just do not pay for something that is my own heritage. Just can not do it.

 657 the year this Abbey started to be built. A 7th Century christian monestry that later became a Benedictine Abbey. The abbey and all of ir possessions were confiscated during the disolution of the monestrys 1538  (Henry V111 wanting to Marry Anne Boleyn) and fell into ruins. It is now owned and run by English Heritage and the Abbey Museum is now housed in the old Cholmley mansion site.

 Hilda of Whitby(c614-680) became a saint as the founding abbess of this monestry. which was chosen as a venue for the synod of Whitby. Hilda even drew kings to her monestry for advice.

 This creepy mansion was just a facade in the days when I considered Whitby my home. Now a museum has been built behind it.....so it still looks like a creepy facade. It is actually called Chomeley House or Whitby hall. It was used as a banqueting hall. It is next to the ruins of Whitby Abbey.
It was built in 1672 by Sir Huge Cholmley. Or rather he paid for it to be built by a team of labourers. He had acquired the abbey ruins and land here after the dissolution of the monasteries in 1539. what dodgy dealings went on I wonder? any way the family had lived at the Abbey gate house and guest lodging up to this point, where they transferred from Roxby Castle.
when he died in 1583 the family possessed virtually all the lands belonging to Whitby Abbey , all together about 26.000 acres including Whitby town, Slieghts, Grosmont, Hawsker Fyling and Robin Hoods bay.

 This great house was built with a square forecourt and copy of  Borgese Gladiator. So what is The Borgese Gladiator? Well it is a life size Hellenistic marble sculpture portraying a swordsman, that is what! .made about  c100BCE, The real one is in the Louvre., Paris.
In 1742 The Chomeleys inherited the Wentworth estates and moved to Howsham hall, leaving This great house empty. The north front lost its roof in a storm in 1790...then over the years it fell into decay.
 The Chomleys have a bit of a dark past.  The house was paid for by Sir Hugh Cholmley. and it eventually got passed to  Sir Francis Cholmeley    he and his wife Lady Jane Cholmley   moved to Whitby. Lady Jane was disliked by everyone and no one wanted her to marry Francis either. Lady Jane Cholmley was a witch.  I have checked this out as far as I can. There is a lot of conjecture here. I have told this story myself with embellishments, and can not now remember if there ever was a "true"version.
She had a charm cast. It was a charm which governed her husband. When he died in 1579 it was rumoured that she had cursed him. I have also had her ghost riding a black horse wearind long flowing garments and a hood gallopping through the gates towards the old abbey ruins. as the house burned behind her......
She was never tried for witch craft this due to her title. I have checked the "yorkshire witches" records and her name is on it. , The stories abound about this one. I have told a few myself.......
Then of course there is the civil war story as well involving his cousin From Bagdale Hall, Whitby. The cousin was none other than Browne Bushell executed by his father in law Lord Fairfax for piracy.

The civil war story goes like this.....

During the years that Charles 1 ruled without parliament Cholmely became one of the leaders of the resistance among the Yorkshire gentry along with Sir John Hotham. He organised a lot of petitions and protests and in 1639 he refused to pay ship money. As a result he was dismissed from all his posts, he was justice of the peace on the north riding bench and Colonel in command of the home guard of Whitby Pickering, and Ryedale. Twice a week the poorest of Whitby were served "bread and potage of beef" at his gates....as well as MP for Scarborough. And so summoned before the council of state , where the king himself told Cholmely and Hotham that if they interfered  again he would have them hanged.  That told them.
In 1640 Cholmely was elected (back) to his post of MP for Scarborough. created baronet in 1641.
When the civil war broke out Cholmley was a Parliamentarian. he was one of the commissioners to negotiate with the king in 1642; he raised a regiment for the parliamentary army which fought at the battle of Edgehill and later joined Lord Fairfax in his campaign against the Royalist garrison at York.

He fulfilled his commission with exemplary efficiency and loyalty. at Guisborough , in his first experience of battle, he defeated a royalist attempt  to move on Whitby.
 1643 He then changed sides and "declared for the king" and The Earl of Newcastle put him in command  of all maritime affairs along the northern half of the Yorkshire coast.astonishingly such was his local prestige Whitby and Scarborough followed him. His cousin Browne Bushell of Bagdale hall , handed the keys of Scarborough castle to him and there was a brilliant coup!
 after the Royalist defeat at the battle of marston moor, Chomley refused to flee the country and instead  held Scarborough castle for the king during the great siege. until he was forced to surrender on july 22nd 1645. Cholmley would not admit defeat. For 22 weeks he held out in Scarborough castle until his men were dying of thirst and scurvy. His wife lady Elizabeth refused to leave him. He eventually went into exile in France. 1649 he paid a fine and was allowed back home to Whitby. He was only allowed back provided that he lived quietly and his public life was over. abbey house was restored after the round heads plunder and an orchard was planted, along with new gardens, also he opened his own alum mine in saltwick.

his beloved wife Elizabeth died in 1655 and he was heart broken. He could no longer live with the memories and lived out the remaining two years of his life with his brother in law in kent,

as a final tribute to Elizabeth , he asked to be buried next to her at st Mary's church Whitby. so there ends the story of sir Hugh Chomley  the most famous of his family who owned a ruled Whitby for two centuries.

He was detested by the parliamentarians mind! and called a cowardly turn coat. Whitby and its people loved him.
A brave honourable man as Whitbys great benefactor who rescued his own family from ruin and transformed what was a backward, poor fishing village into a thriving port.