Mary Ann Smith - An Extraordinary Life

MARY ANN SMITH (?1852-1914)

Mary Ann Smith’s father, William, was a Northumbrian from Hexham who came south to serve as a trooper in the 1st Life Guards. In 1850 we meet him married to Elizabeth from Hertford and stationed at Windsor where their first child, another Elizabeth, is born. By March 1851 the family including Elizabeth’s young dressmaker sister Mary Ann have moved to 81 Albany Street, opposite Regents Park Barracks. Little Elizabeth is followed by three sisters: our Mary Ann, born in Brompton, then on the western outskirts of London, between 8 April 1852 and 7 April 1853, Fanny Jane two years later and Rosa (Rose) after two more years.

Our next picture of the Smiths is in 1861. Describing himself now as ‘licensed victualler’, William was the landlord of the Black Jack pub at 11 Portsmouth Street on the SW corner of Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The street is still there but not the pub. Black Jacks were leather beer jugs coated with tar. As well as the family the household comprised two servants and seven workmen lodgers.

Where the family were in 1871 is anyone’s guess but in 1881 Mary Ann resurfaces—in Sheffield! Her address is 58 High Street, where she is a draper’s assistant and head of a small household of three younger draper’s assistants, a cook and a housemaid, six of her employer’s 19 female and 5 male staff. Ten years on, across High Street, she heads a list of 22 female employees, which by 1901 has risen to 54. They are working at Walsh’s.

John Walsh Ltd, Sheffield

Walsh’s occupied a large block on what is now the corner of Arundel Gate, opposite the Castle Square tram stop. After spending nine years as a buyer of baby linen and ladies’ clothing at Cockayne’s store, Irishman John Walsh had opened a small shop selling similar goods at no. 39 on the north side of High Street in 1875. Expanding steadily on the other side during Mary Ann’s time, the business became a superior department store and restaurant. It survived partial enforced demolition for street widening in 1895, then in 1897 John Walsh commissioned the well-known architectural practice Flockton and Gibbs to design a new store. Walsh’s became a limited company in 1902. Its trade directory entry for 1903 is shown here.

The Sheffield Blitz

It was wrecked on the first night of the Sheffield blitz, 12 December 1940, but continued in other premises until Harrods took over the company in 1946, cleared the High Street site, rebuilt the store and reopened it in 1953. A further takeover six years later by House of Fraser led to the replacement of Walsh’s name successively by Rackhams and House of Fraser until the store’s closure in 1998.

The firm’s personnel archives were probably destroyed in the war, but public records fill gaps in Mary Ann’s story. What do we have in Dore? Her neglected grave comprises a small headstone and a low all-round kerb. They bear an inscription starting on the headstone and continuing along the kerb sides from left to right: ‘In Loving Memory of Mary Ann Smith who died at Dore 8th January 1914 in her 61st year. Gone but not forgotten’.

The words ‘who died at Dore’ seemed to imply that she was on a visit, but she turned out to be a resident, if only briefly. The Dore burials register added where she died: ‘Mary Ann Smith of Woodland View, Dore, 10 January 1914, aged 61’ (not as on the stone).

Sheffield and Rotherham Licensed Victuallers Association

Woodland View is the picturesque building opposite the station, originally constructed in 1878-79 by the Sheffield and Rotherham Licensed Victuallers Association as sheltered housing for former pub landlords and landladies when its former site in Grimesthorpe became unhealthy. It consists of twelve terraced cottages with a central hall. Along with one of the cottages this was rented by local freemasons for lodge meetings from 1890 until 1951 when they bought the whole premises.

Mary Ann's Burial in Dore

On the morning of the funeral this announcement appeared in the Sheffield Independent: ‘DEATHS … SMITH. – On the 8th January, Mary Ann Smith (late of 64, High Street), at 12, Woodview, Dore. Interment at Dore Church, this day (Saturday), at 3 o’clock’. Despite the faulty address this helps to pinpoint the places where she had recently lived and died. 64 High Street was residential accommodation for Walsh’s staff. 12 Woodland View was at the far end of the range of cottages from Dore Road in both the 1901 and the 1911 censuses (on left, in shadow) but Mary Ann wasn’t yet there. We don’t know how she came to be at no. 12—perhaps her father’s occupation had something to do with it—but right from the start of the LVA in Dore people from backgrounds other than the licensed trade predominated among its residents.

Mary Ann's Death Certificate

Her death was reported two days later to Fred C. Bone, Dore’s schoolmaster and local registrar, by her unmarried elder sister and recent carer Elizabeth. Its certified causes were general debility for six months and a weak heart for four; she had also suffered from dropsy (œdema) for three months. But note Elizabeth’s description of her sister’s occupation.

In 1891 Walsh’s had designated her with her female colleagues as ‘Draper’s Shopwoman’ and in 1901 as ‘Draper’s Assistant’. Her sister, however, wanted to do her justice: ‘Buyer and Saleswoman at Drapery Establishment’. As a buyer she stood out among her colleagues.

Mary Ann's Legacy

The final two documents are Mary Ann’s will and grant of probate. She made bequests to her sister Fanny Dakers and her three nephews in South Africa, her sister Rose Martyn in New Zealand, and several work colleagues and friends, and she set up a residuary trust fund for her sister Elizabeth. The great surprise is the value of her estate, about £2500, worth in purchasing power over £300,000 today. How did she amass all this?

As an early recruit to Walsh’s Mary Ann showed leadership of her women colleagues from the start. Within some 30 years she had achieved a similar degree of expertise as had John Walsh himself when he founded the firm.

This short account of her life has been written for Women’s History Month 2025 in the hope of revitalising that inscription in Dore churchyard: ‘Gone but not forgotten’.

The Dore Knock-Knobbler

Dog Tongs and Wands

The dog tongs shown above can be found in St. Beuno's Church, Clynnog Fawr. (The photograph is from the People's Collection Wales.) The dog tongs would have been used by a knock‐knobbler. The knock‐knobbler, or nobbler, was someone who kept order in church services. His job included keeping children under control, waking up people who were sleeping – usually by knocking their nob (head) – and removing stray dogs from the church. They were more politely known as 'peace keepers' or 'dog whippers' and were generally armed with a stick or large pair of knock-knobbler's dog tongs or a dog whip.

The long sticks, used to keep the parishioners awake and prevent unruly behaviour, were eventually superseded by the wands of the church wardens. The wands were kept to hand in the church warden's pew in case they were needed in the service. This symbol of their office was usually topped with either a mitre or a crown but they retained the traditional long wooden pole.

In the News

The Rev. Gibson of Christ Church, Dore wrote this letter to the Sheffield Daily Telegraph on 29th January 1919.

Twenty four years ago an old parishioner of mine of then over 70 years of age told me that at the old Dore Chapel of Ease, in his early days, was a church officer with a big stick and a scarlet cloak known as a 'knock-nobbler', to 'keep'em wakkened' he said, during the service. He had been nobbled in his day. This be quite in keeping with other odd customs, sayings and events, which happened at the old Dore chapel of Ease in not very remote times. The present church took the place of the chapel in 1826. Yours faithfully, W.R.GIBSON.

This letter was followed up by one from another gentleman, where the practice was expanded upon:

Knock-nobblers were men, usually old, appointed to keep order in churches and chapels, and were provided with sticks or wands, so that they could reach over the heads of the worshippers and tap (or knock) the heads (or nobbles) of those who misbehaved during service, usually, of course, boys from Sunday School. They became practically extinct ninety or one hundred years ago, but their name survived, and it was not uncommon 60 or 70 years ago to hear peace keepers, as the same men were then called, termed knock‐nobblers, although they did not have sticks. In my boyhood I remember an old man who had one of the sticks, and kept order in the north gallery of St Paul’s Church (site is now the Peace Gardens in central Sheffield), but it was reared in the corner, and only used as a sign of office.

Dore was not alone in requiring the services of a knock-knobbler. Dogs and rowdy behaviour seem to have been commonplace. In 1841 the Sheffield Independent published an article stating that seventy years ealier the Parish Church (now Sheffield Cathedral) was the most crowded and filthy place that could be conceived.

The aisles, both above and below, were so crowded with the poorer classes, that pew owners found difficulty in getting to their seats. Children and infants abounding, disturbance was pretty general; the latter often squalling, the former first playing their tricks, and then crying out under the loud correction of the merciless peacekeepers, alias knock‐knobblers.

And, we have all heard the expression 'to nobble' someone: nobble being used to mean to stop or catch someone.

Richard Furness - Teacher, Poet and Healer

Those who follow this blog and know something of the history of Dore will recognise the name Richard Furness (1791-1857), the polymath.

He was in charge of the school at Dore from 1821 to 1848. Amongst his talents he wrote and published poems and acted as a healer somewhat akin to an apothecary.

The Dore Village Society has in its archives some unpublished poems, collected by his son, which give some insight into Richard's skills.

The following poem is taken from the Dore Village Society Collection: uncatalogued book of manuscripts, 'The Unpublished Poems of Richd Furness', compiled by William Furness

Whilst this poem has no title DART members have named it Poor Tommy's Tale. It is written in Derbyshire dialect and although it has questionable merit as a poem, it certainly has us thinking about the important knowledge and skills Richard may have had as a healer.

Poor Tommy's Tale

The story within the poem is translated into plain modern English with help from his son William Furness, who wrote a compiler's introduction, and one of our members who studied the words in dialect. The story goes thus; the poem commemorates one of the most wonderful cures Richard Furness ever performed. The subject of the cure, Tommy Greaves, was a native of Dore of about 20 years of age and a penknife cutler. One of his legs failed; a running, possibly an infection, broke out in his leg; after failure of various persons to effect a cure, he was sent to Sheffield Infirmary as a last resort.

The Infirmary, 1819
Courtesy of Picture Sheffield, reference s07337

The Infirmary's Surgeons

The leg daily became worse, so much so that the leg was declared incurable and the unanimous opinion of the surgical staff was that unless he would consent to the leg being amputated, no treatment however skilful would save his life. Tommy decided to leave the Infirmary and place himself under the care of the Poet.

Hornbook's Cure

Richard Furness refers to himself in the third person as “Hornbook” in this context. Our research shows a hornbook to be a leaf of paper containing alphabet (and often the 10 digits and Lord's Prayer) protected by plate of translucent horn and mounted on wooden tablet with handle; for Richard Furness, the symbol of a teacher.

The story goes on; the result was a complete cure. Tommy’s gratitude was intense, and although he afterwards resided in Sheffield, he always made a point of calling to thank his benefactor twice a year for 25 or 30 years afterwards until Richard Furness's death.

The Poem

The poem gives some clues as to the nature of this cure;

Horn warm'd him with Pestil wi'bottle
That made the poor cutler to roar
Gripe his fists, pull his face, screw his throttle
They might hear him from Totley to Dore.

The bathing with wonderful water
From virulent pus cleared the part
Produced the best cooling matter
And salv'd it ‘according to art.

From this we deduce that Horn prepared for him a heated compound, using pestle and mortar (symbols of the apothecary) with water; it sounds like a very hot poultice. In addition wonderful water is more usually referred to as aqua mirabilis which can be a mixture of spices e.g. cardamon, cloves, mace, nutmeg, ginger, cubebs (a hot Javanese spice) and spirits of wine, left to soak and then distilled. This aqua mirabilis cooled and then cleansed the wound. The alcohol base helping fight infection and the wonderful aromas lifting the young man's spirit perhaps.

Horn carries on a defiant mood in the poem;

Tom's well, ye pretenders to science
With your Recipes, Whittles & Saws
Follow nature (Horn bids you defiance)
Follow nature & study her laws.

Boast no more of your classical knowledge
What avail all the drugs on your shelves
He cares not a grain for your College
If you have not the art in yourselves.

College presumably refers to the newly founded (1800) Royal College of Surgeons here and Richard Furness champions the knowledge and skills of the apothecary. There was rivalry between the Royal College of Physicians and the apothecaries which was well documented. The surgeons were descended from The Company of Barber Surgeons, presumably the reference to whittles or small knives and saws describes their tools. Modern General Practice is descended in part from the apothecaries' art and the last verse of the poem would ring true with our present day GPs.

Poor Old Horse

In former days groups of men would perform 'The Old Horse', a sort of play, at various places in North Derbyshire at Christmas and New Year. In Yorkshire it was 'The White Horse'. In Lancashire, at Easter, it was known as 'Old Ball'. Dore people always associated it with New Year's Day.

The Old Horse at Dore

Their visitors were from Dronfield. Five or six of them would walk to Dore via Holmesfield. One carried a horse's head on a pole, with a black cloak attached. The late Peter Bradley recalled 'This was a papier mâché‐type head of a horse, with big white rings round the eyes, massive teeth and jingling bridles.' It was built round a horse’s skull. Its eyes were made of glass bottle bottoms, painted red in the middle and its ears were stuffed with white cotton.

Dore Memories

On the way they dropped in at all the pubs and some of the farms and houses. Lynne Bufton remembered that they called at several houses in Dore Road and the two village pubs before visiting The Mount in Causeway Head Road where she then lived. Lorraine Evans recalled open‐air performances in the village centre. When Peter was young they would also come into Barkers Row.

The Performance

Outside the man playing the horse put the head on and the cloak covered him up. Then they sang the first verse of the Old Horse song:

We have a poor Old Horse,
And he's standing at your door,
And if you wish to let him in,
He'll please you all I'm sure.
Chorus: Poor Old Horse, Poor Old Horse.

Once inside they continued with several more verses as the horse acted out his life story. This was basically the same wherever it was performed, but there were local variants in the text of the song.

He had strings inside his head to open his mouth. Peter described it like this: 'There was somebody underneath it working the jaws, and it used to clomp, clomp, clomp like a crocodile'. Lynne recalled what the horse‐actor did as the song progressed. 'He would lift the head high, chomping the jaws open/shut at the beginning when the horse was young, lowering it as he grew old eating short grass, until finally he died and lay on the floor'. Then the man nearest would kick his rump and say 'Gerrup Bob!', then a tot of whisky would revive him and the collection box was passed round.

The last performance of the night was at the Dore Moor Inn, then all the troupe went home by taxi. 'Mind you', said Lorraine, 'they were three sheets in the wind by the time they got here, in the first place'. So no wonder if they forgot some of their lines or brought in original Dore variants!

When the Old Horse appeared in the village, Lorraine found it a bit frightening. So did Peter and his young friends when the beast visited Barkers Row. 'He used to turn round, and we as small boys used to run up Townhead Road absolutely scared of the thing'.

The Old Horse Custom

What was the point of the Old Horse, apart from earning a few young men their beer money? The antiquarian S.O. Addy suggested that it was originally a ritual symbolizing the dying of the old year and the birth of the new. Again and again primitive societies acted out what they wanted to happen so as to make it happen. The Easter date in Lancashire, though, may reflect a Christianizing influence.

The Old Horse ceremony had died out locally by the 1970s. But we know it was performed at the Hare and Hounds in 1971. And at Padstow in Cornwall on May Day two 'Obby Osses' still cavort through the streets to welcome summer in.

You can read about the performance of 'Poor Old Horse' in Dore on 1st January 1971 and listen to a recording made on the day on The Yorkshire Garland Group website. (opens in a new tab)

Here are all the verses:

1. We have a poor owd horse,
   And he's standing at your door,
   And if you wish to let him in
   He'll please you all I'm sure.
   Poor owd horse, poor owd horse.
2. He once was a young horse
   And in his youthful prime;
   His master used to ride on him
   And he thought him very fine.
   Poor owd horse, poor owd horse.
3. But now he's getting owd
   And his nature doth decay,
   He's forced to nab yon short grass
   That grows beneath yon way.
   Poor owd horse, poor owd horse.
4. He's eaten all my hay
   And he's spoile'd all my straw;
   He's neither fit to ride upon,
   Nor e'en attempt to draw.
   Poor owd horse, poor owd horse.
5. We'll whip him, hunt him, slash him
   And a‐hunting let him go,
   Over hedges, over ditches,
   Over fancy gates and stiles.
   Poor owd horse, poor owd horse.
6. I'll ride him to the huntsman;
   So freely I will give
   My body to the hounds then
   I'd rather die than live.
   Poor owd horse, poor owd horse.
7. Thy poor owd bones,
   They shall lie beneath yon ground
   And never more be thought of
   By all the hunting round.
   Poor owd horse, thou must die.

Spoken: Get up Bob

A Wartime Christmas in Dore

Imperial War Museum, © IWM (Art.IWM PST 16433)

Childhood Memories of Christmas in 1944

In this post two longstanding residents talk about their memories of Christmas in Dore and Totley from 80 years ago. In addition there are some comments from contributors to the Dore Oral History Project. I was surprised by how similar it was to today and how traditions prevail. The children of 1944 were well and truly in holiday mode as school Christmas holidays lasted 4 weeks. It was explained to me that schools were open on Saturday mornings to compensate.

Christmas Day

Christmas Day started with the traditional present opening by the children. It was a pillow case rather than a stocking, which I had imagined. Oranges were there as a real treat. There was a Christmas post and people tried to time their cards to arrive on the day. There were decorations in the house. The artificial Christmas tree came out each year as it was difficult to access any real ones. The decorations were rather ancient from before the war and holly and other greens supplemented it.

Toys – Old and New

Imperial War Museum, © IWM (EPH 3663)

What were the toys which children loved to receive? A train set in the attic was popular and additions to the engines and carriages were gratefully received. It was interesting to note that often these toys were second hand or hand made. Children did not have many toys but they were encouraged to use what was around and use their imaginations. Old prams could be taken apart and the wheels would make an excellent trolley to whiz down Furniss Avenue.

The immediate neighbourhood was quite close and those without children would give presents to the children. One memory is of receiving a Raleigh bicycle; a special present for Christmas and also for passing the 11 plus exam. This was bought from Halfords in town and cycled back. No mean feat for an 11 year old. Grandparents who lived locally would entertain the grandchildren on Christmas Day and one of the interviewees remembered an exploding snowman with small presents being thrown out to the children.

A Party and Presents for the Choir Boys

Each year families went to church at 9.30am on Christmas Day and boys were often in the choir. The choirmaster, Arthur Farnsworth, was central to the children’s celebrations in the wartime Christmas. He would collect from the wealthy people in Dore Road and obtain sufficient funds to provide each choirboy with one or two superb books which were given to them at a Christmas party. The boys had to be on their best behaviour. The choir party was held in the Village Hall and was the big event of Christmas. Then the boy wrote to the person who had given the book a thank you letter. There was a sticker inside donated by so and so.

Food and Entertainment

Memories of the Christmas food surprised me. I had thought rationing would affect the type of food. Not so in Dore and Totley as there were strong links with the local farmers. The children were expected to work on growing food in the garden and on the allotments. There was healthy home grown food and honey. People had their way of saving up some ingredients through the year. So for one of my interviewees, they had a turkey and the usual accompaniments. Christmas puddings were made and a silver 'thrupence' in it on Christmas Day. There was also Christmas cake. The friends from over the road came to Christmas dinner and then they reciprocated on Boxing Day for one interviewee. It was more economical to share in this way.

After dinner the radio was on and they sat round and listened to the King's speech. In the years around about 1944 Sheffield Wednesday and Sheffield United played their Christmas Day matches which was an alternative entertainment. Boys played the traditional football game on Christmas Day and Boxing Day and there was rivalry between Dore and Totley. The boys' team was in the Hope Valley league. Things could become quite heated with scrapping in one corner of the field or touchline because they did not agree with a decision.

Sirens Sounded on Christmas Eve

There were "Doodlebugs" flying over in late 1944 and sirens would frequently wail. On Christmas Eve 1944, "45 Doodlebugs were launched off the Yorkshire coast from beneath Heinkel He111 bombers flying over the North Sea. The bombers released the V1s aimed at Manchester, then turned back to base."

Of those V1s that didn't reach their target one fell in Beighton and, it is rumoured, one may have fallen at Ringinglow. Overall though, the children of Dore were able to enjoy their Christmas at a time when their parents were going without and sacrificing much for the war effort.

Thanks go to Judith Hubbard and David Kirkman who have contributed their memories and the Dore Oral History Project transcriptions. These three toys were carried around through the war and have survived to this day. They are a black Hawaiian girl doll, a Snow White (received before the war and bought at Abbeydale Picture House) and 'Jock' the dog face softy who recently completed the teddy zip wire challenge from the top of Christ Church Dore Bell Tower (Autumn 2023).

Links

"How Britain Celebrated Christmas During The Second World War" can be found on the Imperial War Museum web site. (opens in a new tab)

More information about the Christmas Eve V1 attack on Manchester can be found on aircrashsites.co.uk (opens in a new tab)