Category: History news

When people hear the name Liddell, they often think of Alice Liddell, the child who inspired Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. But the Liddell family tree stretches beyond Oxford and Lewis Carroll’s imagination. One of its more interesting branches for Welton History Group leads us to Alice’s second cousin, Rev. Canon Edward Thomas Liddell (their fathers were cousins)- who, for a while, at the turn of the 20th century, was vicar of Welton — and through him, to a remarkable woman whose talent and influence seem to have been almost lost to history: Christina Catherine Fraser Tytler.

Christina : A forgotten writer

Born near Bombay (Mumbai), Christina Catherine Fraser Tytler (1847 – 1927) grew up between India and the Scottish Highlands. After her mother died giving birth to her sister, the renowned artist Mary Seton Fraser Tytler, Christina and her two siblings were raised at Aldourie Castle on Loch Ness. Her father, who worked for the civil service in India, remained there.

The Fraser Tytler sisters — Christina, Etheldred, and Mary — formed a tight, affectionate trio. The girls spent ten years growing up in the Highlands before their father retired and returned to Scotland with his second wife Harriet, in 1861. He also brought with him the girls’ half siblings, sons Charles, Edward and William and a daughter Eleanor, known as Nelly. Another half sister Eva had died in India. Shortly afterwards, Charles moved the whole family to a new home in Forres.

Christina was determined to write. In an era when women’s literary careers were often dismissed, she persisted — and succeeded. Her debut, Sweet Violet and Other Stories (1868), was well reviewed, praised for its characterisation and emotional insight. She went on to publish:

• A Rose and a Pearl (1870)
• Jasmine Leigh (1871)
• Margaret (1872)
• Mistress Judith: A Cambridgeshire Story (1875)
• Jonathan (1876)
• Making or Marring (1879)
• The Other Half of the World (1881)

She published under several names — C. C. Fraser‑Tytler, Mrs Edward Liddell, and Fraser Tytler — probably to avoid the stigma attached to women novelists. Her poetry often explored Christian themes, reflecting her deep faith and her fascination with life, death, and spiritual longing.

Christina in the Victorian artistic world

Christina’s life was threaded through the artistic circles of the 1860s. She and her sister Etheldred visited Freshwater on the Isle of Wight for the first time in 1867, where they fell under the lens of the groundbreaking photographer Julia Margaret Cameron.

In an interesting twist, Cameron’s granddaughter lived briefly in Craven Cottage in Welton during the early 2020s.

Cameron was captivated by the sisters, photographing them repeatedly — often calling Christina “Christiana,” a poetic flourish that suited her ethereal presence. These photographs — The Rosebud Garden of Girls, The Three Sisters, and others — captured the sisters’ beauty, closeness, and artistic sensibility.

Through Cameron’s circle, Christina met renowned painter and sculptor George Frederic Watts, known as “England’s Michelangelo”. It was she who introduced her younger sister Mary to him, setting in motion a celebrated artistic marriage of the Victorian era, despite a thirty year age gap between the couple. Watts greatly admired Christina’s writing, once remarking that her poems carried “a waft of sweet air” and that he envied her gift with words.

Christina, Mary and George: A creative triangle

Christina’s relationship with Mary and George was unusually close. Mary’s private diaries reveal that Christina was not just an occasional visitor to their house, Limnerslease, but a central figure in their daily life. She read with them, debated ideas, shared books by progressive thinkers, and collaborated on artistic projects.

One diary entry describes the three sitting together in the intimate reading alcove at Limnerslease, “his arm round us each,” a scene that suggests a complex emotional dynamic. Christina’s presence shaped their conversations, their creative decisions, and even their philanthropic ideas.

Mary’s diaries reveal that Christina conceived the idea for Watts’ famous Memorial to Heroic Self‑Sacrifice in Postman’s Park, London — although the work has always been attributed solely to George. The slideshow below shows some of the moving memorials displayed there.

Christina was in many ways a bridge between Mary, a celebrated artist in her own right, and George, one of the most successful British artists of the 19th century. She was the person who first connected them, and the person who continued to influence them with her insight, affection, and artistic sensibility.

Enter Edward Thomas Liddell

Christina’s marriage to Rev. Edward Thomas Liddell (1845 – 1914) brought her into another distinguished family. Edward was the son of Hon. George Augustus Frederick Liddell (an English cricketer for Hampshire, Marylebone Cricket Club and England) and Lady Cecil Elizabeth Jane Wellesley (who incidentally was the niece of the Duke of Wellington!)

They married on 26 September 1871 at St John’s Church, Forres, honeymooning in the Lake District.

Educated at Christchurch, Oxford, Edward began his ministry as Rector of Wimpole (1872 – 1876), a wealthy parish on his cousin’s estate. But he felt uneasy living “in so easy a cure” and resigned, choosing instead to serve in Jarrow, one of the harshest industrial towns in England.

Edward moved from rural comfort to Jarrow in 1876, becoming Rector of St Paul’s. The contrast could not have been greater. Jarrow was dominated by shipbuilding, poverty, and harsh working conditions. Edward threw himself into social and missionary work among labourers and their families.

The strain was immense; the physical and emotional demands of Jarrow “broke him down with premature paralysis,” leaving him with chronic illness for the rest of his life.

His efforts in Jarrow did not go unnoticed; he was later made Honorary Canon of Durham Cathedral. He resigned from his position at St Paul’s due to ill health in 1882. His mental health was not helped by his father dying around 1888, after which Edward was reported to have had a nervous breakdown.

Christina and Edward may have spent some time in Italy* to allow Edward to recover, although ill health dogged him for the remainder of his life. (*Note: only brief reference is made to this in one source, but we do know George Watts spent a lot of time in Italy and so this is plausible). They returned and settled in Hertfordshire for a while, before Edward resumed his ministry in the rather less stressful position as vicar of Welton.

The move to Welton

On the retirement in 1894 of the long standing vicar of Welton, Rev Daniel Darnell, Edward took up the role, moving into the vicarage behind The Stone House where Darnell continued to live. He purchased The Stone House (at the time called Hillside) on Darnell’s death in 1897, and let it out.

During his time in Welton he continued to convalesce, yet he remained committed to social welfare. He organised woodwork and carving lessons for unemployed young men, whose handiwork still survives in our church today, in the elaborate carvings of the pulpit and an alms box.

Despite Edward’s declining health, the marriage was warm and intellectually rich. Christina continued her writing, and Edward his studying, preaching, and academic works — including his illustrated history St Alban’s Abbey (1897) – a book still available on Amazon today!

A move to be near her sister

Edward retired in 1902 and the couple moved to Puttenham, near Mary and George Watts’s home Limnerslease. Their house, Birdshanger, still stands. They retained ownership of The Stone House, continuing to let it out, even after Edward died in 1914.

Christina remained deeply connected to Mary and George. Their relationship — part family, part friendship, part creative partnership — was one of the most important of her life. In 1904, it is even said that George called for Christina on his death bed.

She continued writing into her later years, completing a biography of her husband in 1916 called A Shepherd of the Sheep; The Life-Story of an English Parish-Priest. When she died in 1927, she left nearly £6,000 to Mary (around £300,000 in today’s money).

Edward and Christina are buried together at Compton Cemetery, near George and Mary Watts. Their gravestone reads “Edward Liddell – Priest 20/4/1845 – 22/5/1914
and his wife Christina Catherine 14/2/1847 – 29/6/1927″. It seems in death she became once again simply a vicar’s wife.

A legacy worth remembering

During research into Welton’s history we have come across many a cutting that describes Mrs Liddell baking a cake, opening a fete or providing tea on the lawn. But she was so much more than that. Christina Catherine Fraser Tytler was a talented novelist, poet, and a central figure in Victorian artistic networks.

And it’s tempting to view Edward Thomas Liddell as a short footnote to the massively influential and long serving Daniel Darnell. But he was a man of deep conviction who sacrificed comfort for service. And surely, to have had a successful marriage with Christina, an unusually liberal man for the time. Together, they represent a couple defined by creativity and compassion.

We felt their story — from India to Scotland, Freshwater to London, Jarrow to Welton — deserved to be told.

Warning : contains distressing information

One thing that has become clear during our history research is just how cold and harsh Welton’s winters once were. Snow lay deep on the ground most years, and the lake at Welton Place regularly froze solid.

During these long winters the Garrards, who leased the house from the early 1900s to the mid 1940s, often hosted ice‑hockey matches on the ice, and local boys earned a few shillings retrieving the pucks.

The lake in front of Welton Place

In early February 1929, a match was underway between a team from Weedon Barracks and a side led by Col. Finlay. Among the boys collecting pucks were Roy Smith (father of Keith and Derek) and his friend Norman Henley, both young teenagers. As they worked their way across the frozen lake, they made a discovery that surely stayed with them for the rest of their lives.

Norman noticed a brown‑paper parcel lying on the ice and gave it a kick. It felt unusually heavy. Curious, he cut the string and opened it, revealing a tin box.

Inside was the lower half of a newborn baby girl. Shocked, he called Roy over, and one of the boys ran to fetch Mr Smith, the parish constable.

An inquest was opened at the Red Lion, led by Coroner C. H. Davys. Dr W. Arnold Clements of Daventry examined the remains and confirmed that the child had been cleanly cut just below the ribs with a knife. The body showed no signs of decomposition, preserved by the freezing conditions, and the umbilical cord was still attached.

With so many questions unanswered, the inquiry was adjourned for further investigation. Yet no new information ever emerged. The only later reference we could find simply recorded the verdict: the baby was “found dead,” and the case was closed.

One cannot help wondering who that baby girl was, and what awful circumstances led to her life ending even as it had hardly begun. It certainly doesn’t feel like she received any justice.

🖼️ Click to reveal press report

From the moment the Romans arrived around 2000 years ago, Britain began developing a taste for communal drinking, thanks to the tabernae they set up along the roads to keep their troops supplied with wine.

A few hundred years later, Saxon life reshaped this culture, with home‑brewed ale becoming the norm and surplus batches sold straight from the houses of alewives, giving rise to the earliest village alehouses.

After 1066, the Normans expanded things further: monasteries and newly founded inns offered travellers a warm meal, a drink, and a bed for the night, creating the first recognisable network of English hospitality.

Jump forward to 1830 and the Beerhouse Act. This allowed almost any householder to brew and sell beer for a small fee—it was an attempt to curb gin drinking that instead sparked an explosion of tiny, often short‑lived beerhouses across towns and villages.

It’s a tale of how pubs gradually transformed from simple roadside wine stops for Roman soldiers into the beating heart of British community life — and Welton was part of the story. Like many villages, it relied on its pubs as social hubs where everyday life unfolded.

The one we all know

The White Horse circa 1895 – 1905

We are all familiar with The White Horse on High Street, shown above around the turn of the 20th century. Our lovely, CAMRA recognised village hub, The White Horse is a historic two-storey, thatched-roof inn, with its origins over 400 years ago.

Its age shows in the drop from the street – the pub existed when the road was a dirt track, and as it became developed and surfaced over hundreds of years, created that step down.

Located at the heart of the village on the High Street, it has served the community for centuries and continues to do so today. It was frequently used to hold auctions and sales, and many newspaper cuttings show the pub being central to the social life of the village.

Northampton Mercury 30 August 1935

You can find a fuller history of The White Horse here and you can see some historic photos of the pub here.

The one that’s now a house

Many readers will also know the Red Lion Inn – now a home known as the Old Red Lion at the bottom of Churchill Road.

The Red Lion was part of village life for 250 years or more. Its roots reach deep into the 1700s, with a 1750 licence noting Edward Munday taking over from John Thomas as landlord.

Throughout the 1800s it appeared on local maps and in multiple press cuttings as an integral part of the village. For much of its time as an inn, The Red Lion was a modest thatched building.

The structure standing today dates from the late Victorian or early Edwardian period, starting to appear on photographs around the turn of the 20th century.

In 1960 the pub called last orders for the final time and the property was delicensed and became the private residence now known as The Old Red Lion.

You can read a very detailed history of the Red Lion here including fascinating information about some of its residents stretching across the empire.

The one that was just a rumour

For a long time we’d heard tell about a third pub in Welton, but had no name to go with the rumour. The census didn’t help, and the business directories we checked listed only the familiar pair — the White Horse and the Red Lion.

Then came a breakthrough; we were given a village memory written by Tom Pearcey in 1841. In it, while describing Welton’s inns, he mentions “Wheatsheaf John – his name was Boys.” That raised the intriguing question: was there really a Wheatsheaf in Welton, or had John Boys worked at the one in Braunston or Daventry – or was it all a figment of Tom’s imagination?

The 1841 census does list a John Boys and his family, though without an occupation, and by 1851 they seem to have left the village.

Our next clue came from an 1841 Welton business listing for the Fawsley Hundred, where we saw it in black and white in an official document: “Boys John, victualler, Wheatsheaf.” This was a clear suggestion that a pub called The Wheatsheaf had existed in the village.

The trail strengthened when we tracked down a copy of the 1847 Kelly’s Directory for Welton — an early form of Yellow Pages. There it was again: “John Boyes, tavern keeper, Wheatsheaf.”

Finally, after more digging, the definitive evidence appeared in an 1840 newspaper cutting, confirming beyond doubt that Welton once had a third inn: The Wheatsheaf.

We believe the Wheatsheaf was towards the top of the village, based on where we estimate John Boys to have been living on the 1841 census. It was likely a similar modest building to the original Red Lion, and would have been John’s family home as well as an inn. It disappears as an inn by about 1850 although the building may well have existed after that time.

And finally, in case people didn’t fancy any of the three pubs, thanks to the 1830 Beerhouse Act mentioned earlier, we had people like Jane Farr.

She’s mentioned in the Fawsley Hundred listing as a “beer-retailer” and talked about fondly in the Tom Pearcey account: “I was just a passer by who fancied the fare of Jane whose beer until this day does rest upon my lips.” Her beer clearly left a strong impression!

Do you know anything about ANY of the pubs in Welton? If you can add to our story do comment below.

For many centuries, parishioners had to pay a mandatory tithe, which was a religious tax requiring them to give a percentage (often one tenth) of their yearly income or produce to the church. This payment supported the local parish priest and the upkeep of the church building. 

Northamptonshire records library holds the original documents that lay out the tithes that were due to the vicar in Welton in 1623. As you can see opposite, they were beautifully handwritten.

A group of local men were appointed to come to an agreement between the vicar, Richard Patrick, and parishioners about the level of tithes. Their decision set out, in detail, what the vicar was entitled to receive and how parishioners should pay it. Both sides agreed to these rules.

It makes for fascinating reading. Below is a summary of what every parishioner would have to give. It seems taxation worries have been with us for a very long time!

If you would like to see a transcription of the original pages you can click on the box below.

Bridges’ Directory for the Fawsley Hundred, an ancient administrative division of the county of which Welton was a part, is a comprehensive survey originally compiled by the 18th-century historian John Bridges.

John Bridges (1666—1724) was a country gentleman and London lawyer. He split his time between his estate at Barton Seagrave and his chambers in London, holding a succession of lucrative government posts

He began collecting material in 1719 with a personal visit to every parish in the county.  He also hired researchers and artists to record legal, historical, and parochial details. By the time of his death he had amassed some 30 folio volumes (plus many other loose pieces and smaller volumes) of material.*

However, nothing had been written.  In his will, Bridges directed that his historical books and records be kept separate from the rest of his library as a family heirloom (the rest of his collection was sold). His brother William then attempted to get the work printed. *

A publisher was found, a writer, Dr. Samuel Jebb, was retained, and the project moved forward.  It was decided to publish the work as a series of fascicles and subscriptions were sought (at 4 guineas).  The first numbers duly appeared after a few years, but then the publisher went bankrupt and the project stopped. Many of the engraved plates were scattered.*

Then in 1755 a number of the gentleman of the county formed a committee under the leadership of Sit Thomas Cave to see the project through.  They bought up the materials, paid off Jebb, and recruited Peter Whalley to compile the volume. Gradually, the elderly gentlemen of the committee died off and the project sputtered to a halt near the finish line, with much of the work languishing with the Oxford University Press for seven years.  Eventually, a new committee took over and the book finally appeared in 1791 (over 65 years after Bridges died) in two volumes totaling near 1400 pages.*

Most of Bridges’ materials ended up at the Bodleian.*

The result is highly detailed historical database of the region which, whilst published in 1791, was written much earlier.

This is Welton’s entry and it gives a fascinating history of the village from the time of the Domesday Book.

We’ll admit it’s a bit of a long haul – but even if you don’t read to the end, you get a real sense of the history in Welton and just how old the village really is.

• All asterisked paragraphs: Reference material: Nichols, John. Literary Anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century, vol ii, 1812.

Sometimes our history project hands us a puzzle that we have to unpick bit by bit. That’s what happened early on in the Welton Community History Project, when two intriguing photographs surfaced — both taken in the grounds of Welton Manor in the 1920s, confirmed by the current owner who recognises his garden!

In the first photo, taken around 1923/24, a young boy lies on the grass. In the second, taken a couple of years later, the same boy stands centre right in a cloak and crown. The story passed down with the images was extraordinary: this child was said to be Peter Romanov, a boy who had supposedly witnessed his parents’ execution during the Russian Revolution, and who had stayed at Welton Manor.

The source of this tale was Eric Fleming — yes, the Eric Fleming of the wonderful Welton paintings fame — who appears as the small boy on the far left of the first photograph. His daughter Noreen relayed the story of the Russian child’s background, passed down from him.

That was all we had. No explanation as to why a Russian aristocratic boy might be living in rural Northamptonshire. No proof he was a Romanov. Just two photographs and a rumour. So we started digging……. could we find a Russian prince?

Discovering the Russian Connection

Our first breakthrough came when we were shown documents relating to Welton Manor. The deeds revealed that between 1923 and 1927 the house was owned by Dame Sybil Edith Mary Romilly Nicholson — a name that caught our attention.

Sybil, born in 1880, was married to Admiral Sir Douglas Romilly Lothian Nicholson. She was extremely wealthy and owned Welton Manor in her own right. Her background turned out to be crucial. As a child she lived at Bude Castle in Cornwall, owned by her uncle Charles Morgan Cowie. She later took over the castle’s lease in 1930.

And here’s where things get interesting: the family were known supporters of White Russian émigrés fleeing the revolution. Bude Castle’s records mention visits from Russian princes and members of the Tolstoy family.

Suddenly, the idea of a Russian child at Welton didn’t seem so far‑fetched.

Why Welton?

With Sybil’s roots in Cornwall and her social life centred around London’s upper circles, Welton might seem an odd choice as a place to buy a manor house. But her maiden name — Romilly — provides a clue.

Sybil was related by marriage to both Clementine Churchill and Lord Wimborne (Ivor Churchill Guest), Winston Churchill’s cousin and political ally. 

Lord Wimborne owned Ashby St Ledgers Manor and was so closely associated with the village that he became Baron Ashby St Ledgers in 1910. It was he who commissioned Edwin Lutyens to work on Ashby Manor.

It’s feasible that Sybil knew the area through him. During her ownership of Welton Manor, her husband was serving as a Vice‑Admiral and was likely away from home for long periods. We have evidence that he did spend some time here, the cutting below suggesting they were valued parishioners. But given the demands on her husband’s time, it makes sense that they may have chosen a home near to family.

Perhaps Lord Wimborne recommended Welton as a peaceful retreat — or maybe Sybil simply fell in love with it while visiting her relatives.

Sybil’s companion

Although the Nicholsons had no children of their own, we discovered through Ancestry, and confirmed by the Tolstoy family, that Sybil had adopted Maria “Maroussia” Pavlovna Tolstaya‑Miloslavsky, (remember the reference to the Tolstoys in Bude Castle’s records). Maria’s father had been Chamberlain to Tsar Nicholas II, and she had arrived in England in 1905. The Nicholsons became friends with Maria in London during WWI, according to information from the family.

Maria appears alongside Sybil in the 1921 census; Lady and Admiral Nicholson, Maria and the Nicholson’s chauffeur, Arthur Woodley, were staying at the Balmer Lawn Hotel near Brockenhurst in Hampshire at that time. This was a highly sought after, privately owned country house hotel, frequented by King George V and Winston Churchill. It still exists today.

Maria travelled and lived with Lady Nicholson for most of her life, never marrying. We can probably conclude that she was with Sybil in Welton, although we don’t yet have definitive evidence. However, we have been told by the Tolstoy family that Maria brought ‘pageantry and ballet’ to the children living at Bude castle – that feels like a fairly accurate description of the photos taken at Welton Manor. Was it her hand at work?

Their companionship continued after the Admiral’s death. The pair lived together in Kensington until Sybil died, according to electoral registers. This 1944 clipping from Good Morning, a Cornish publication, refers to Lady Nicholson and her companion Countess Tolstoy.

Identifying “Peter”

So we have Lady Nicholson, her Welton connection, and her links to Russian aristocracy. We also know of her close and long term relationship with a Tolstoy.  But who was the mysterious boy?

We were sure that a Russian child stayed at Welton Manor — Lady Nicholson’s classified advert in the 1920s, taken in combination with the photos and local knowledge, would seem to suggest it.

Searches of Russian émigrés in Britain at the time reveal no mention of a “Peter Romanov”. But after going down a few rabbit holes, we managed to make contact with the archivist at Bude Castle who casually dropped a huge clue, revealing that Count Dmitri Tolstoy – Maria’s nephew – had lived with the Nicholsons between 1920 and 1926. We know, of course, that for three of those years the Nicholsons were in Welton. 

We subsequently contacted Dmitri’s grand-daughter, Alexandra and she confirmed that it was known in the family that her grandfather had lived with the Nicholsons at Bude, although she had no knowledge of Welton.

Dmitri’s early life was marked by danger and displacement, fleeing with his English nanny Lucy Stark who realised he would be murdered if they didn’t leave Russia. Dmitri’s father had been missing for two years and his mother had died in 1916. Lucy convinced an English chaplain in Moscow to write a false birth certificate, rendering Dmitri her illegitimate son.

They boarded a train to Finland and Lucy warned her charge that when interrogated, it was vital he did not reveal his true name. Despite being only seven, Dmitri played his part and they miraculously got past the border guards and into Finland, from where they took a ship, The Dongola, to England.

Do you see a likeness? Our boy on the left and Dmitri on the right

We’re still piecing some parts of the story together, but for now, the evidence points us pretty confidently towards the idea that Welton once hosted not a young Russian prince as originally thought – but a descendant of the man who wrote War and Peace.

Are you convinced? Or are our arguments, like Bude Castle itself, built on shifting sands?   Comment below if you can add anything to this story or to give your thoughts.

With thanks to Noreen Stowe, Peter Swanson, Rachel Harris-Gardiner and the Tolstoy family for their invaluable help in unravelling this remarkable story.

A hundred in Anglo‑Saxon England was an important administrative and judicial subdivision within a shire. Traditionally thought to contain 100 hides of land or roughly 100 households, it served as the core unit of local governance, overseeing tax collection, military levies, and the resolution of local disputes.

During the 19th century, hundreds were gradually dismantled through successive legal and administrative reforms. Their decline began after 1834, and they were effectively rendered obsolete by the Local Government Act 1894, which replaced them with modern rural and urban district councils.

Welton sat in the Fawsley Hundred and below is a transcription of the Welton entry in the 1849 summary which gives us some fascinating information about the village at that time, as well as some earlier history.

Please note that some abbreviations have been rewritten as full names where known for ease of reading. 

WELTON PARISH

Is bounded by Long Buckby on the east; on the north by Watford, from which it is divided by the Watling-street way; by Braunston on the west; and Daventry on the south, from which it is divided by the Grand Junction Canal. It contains 1,690 acres, and its population, in 1801, was 485; in 1831, 600; and in 1841, 635 souls. 

The rateable value of the parish is £3,451, and the amount of assessed property is £2,935.

The soil is principally a strong loam, and the chief owners are Richard Trevor Clarke, Esq. of Welton Place (lord of the manor), and Beriah Botfield, Esq. of Norton Hall. The lordship is well supplied with springs, and there is some good limestone, and excellent brick and tile clay. The Grand Junction Canal is continued on to Braunston by a tunnel 1½ miles long, where it joins the Oxford one.

Manor: Osbern held 3 hides, wanting 1 virgate, of land, in Welintone, of Hugh de Grentemaisnil, at the time of the Domesday survey. There was a mill of the yearly rent of 12d, and 8acres of meadow, and the whole, which in the Confessor’s time had been the freehold of Baldwin and valued at 20s, was now rated at 40s.  

Leuric, the Saxon proprietor, held half a hide and one virgate in Welton and Thorpe of the Countess Judith at the same time. This was valued at 8s. 

In the reign of Henry II. William de Novo Foro held 2½ hides and 2 small virgates here of the fee of Leicester; Hugh de Leycester had 5½ small virgates of the fee of Birkhampstead, which were held by the monks of Daventry, and Richard Mallore had 2 small virgates. The descendants of this William de Novo Foro are not known. 

In the 18th year of the reign of Edward I (1290), Philip de Montgomery levied a fine of this manor; and in the 9th of Edward II. (1316), John Mallore was lord of Welton. In the male line of this family it continued for some time, and then descended to Margaret, daughter of John Mallore, and wife of Thomas Peyton, Esq. From this gentleman’s grandson and successor it was purchased, in the 2nd of Richard III. (1485), by William Catesby, Esq., of Ashby St. Ledgers, who levied a fine of it in the same year, and from whom it was named Catesby’s Manor. 

The manor in Welton belonging to the Daventry priory, was valued, in 1526, at £7. 10s. 2d. per annum, and passed with the other possessions of that house, to Cardinal Wolsey’s College, Oxford. Leicester abbey had the annual rent of a water-mill, at Welton, (43s.), at its dissolution, which was sold by the Crown to John Franke.

Sir William Catesby, for he was afterwards knighted, was beheaded at Leicester after the battle of Bosworth-field, and being attainted of high-treason, in 1485, his manors of Welton, with several others, were granted, in 1489, to Sir David Owen, in tail male. From him this manor descended to his grandson, Henry Owen, Esq, who sold it, in the 14th of Elizabeth (1572), to Sir Richard Knightley, of Fawsley, who afterwards alienated it to the family of Newport, of Welton. John Newport, Gent., sold it in 1647, together with the impropriate rectory, to William Adams, Esq, of Charwelton. 

In this family it continued till 1804, when Samuel Miller Adams, Gentleman, alienated it to John Clarke, Esq, son of John Plomer, Esq, who by Act of Parliament, in 1775, adopted the name and arms of Clarke, on succeeding to the estates of that family under the will of his maternal great uncle Richard Clarke, Esq. John Clarke, Esq. was succeeded at his death, in 1805, by John Plomer Clarke, Esq, from whom the manor descended to the present Lord Richard Trevor Clarke, Esq.

The Village of Welton, which is very respectable, is situated on a steep declivity about 2 miles N.E. of Daventry, and 12 N.W. from Northampton.

The Church, dedicated to St. Martin, stands on rising ground, near the centre of the village, and consists of a nave and side aisles, south porch, and chancel, with a pinnacled tower containing five bells. The whole building, except the tower, is in the Perpendicular style of the 15th century. The living is a discharged vicarage in the deanery of Daventry, rated in the king’s books at £7, but its net value at present is about £193. The patronage is vested in the Lord Chancellor; and the Rev. Daniel Darnell, M.A., is the present incumbent. The impropriate rectory consists of 196a. 0r. 1p.; the vicarage of 60a. 1r. 5p., granted by the commissioners, in lieu of vicarial tithes; and 3a. 3r. 14p., in lieu of an annual payment of £3. 16s. 8d. out of certain lands. 

In ecclesiastical matters Welton was originally a parochial chapelry to Daventry.

There is also a small Baptist Chapel in the village.

The National School was built by the late Mr. Clarke and is supported by voluntary subscription. 

The Charity Land, consisting of 58 acres, a small close, and a garden, lets for about £130 per annum; and the rents are applied to the relief of the poor, repairs of the church, causeways, bridges, &c.

Welton Place, the seat of R. T. Clarke, Esq is a handsome mansion situate near the church, on the southern side of a bold abrupt hill, on a terrace commanding a prospect of the town of Daventry and the adjacent country. The hill rising behind the house is ornamented with forest trees and shrubs, and near its base is Mickle Well in a curious ancient, vaulted cave, which is so called, perhaps, from its never-failing abundance. It feeds several fish-ponds &c, within the grounds.

Churchill House, formerly the Manor-house, stands at the entrance of the village, and is the seat of Edmund Singer Burton, Esq.

Antiquities: Mr. Baker tells us, that in the year 1778, in a close called Stone-pit Field, belonging to John Clarke, Esq a “rudely formed sepulchre,” probably a cist, was discovered about two feet below the surface, within which were deposited two skeletons of small stature, having two brass fibulæ, and a number of beads lying near the throat and wrists. Between the skeletons was an urn, and a spear now mouldered to fragments, with four or five small Roman coins, one of which appeared to be of Constantine the Great, and another of Flavia Fausta, his empress. 

The urn, which is in the possession of R. T. Clarke, Esq, is of a dark colour, nearly black, and the beads are of amber, glass, and jet, varying in size, shape, and colour. A small Roman coin of Barbia Orbiana, last wife of the Emperor Alexander Severus, was dug up in the church-yard some years since.

At this point the summary lists some of the parishioners and their roles. Many of these people are mentioned in the memory of Tom Pearcey from 1841 which can be found here.

Atkins Mr. John
Batchelor Alexander, tailor
Benjamin Joseph, victualler, Red Lion, and builder +
Boys Elizabeth, dressmaker
Boys John, victualler Wheatsheaf
Burton Edmund Singer, Esq., Churchill House +
Clarke Rev. Charles, curate of Norton
Clarke Richard Trevor, Esq, Welton Place +
Darby Thomas, carpenter, &c.
Darnell, Rev. Daniel, vicar +
Downing William, tailor
Elliott John, gardener

Farr Jane, beer-retailer +
Farr John, baker, &c.,
Field John, corn-miller
Harris Harry, victualler, White Horse
Harrison Thomas, blacksmith +
Hill, Captain Stephen John, Welton Cottage [later known as The Firs] +
Jackson Henry, butcher
Robinson Rev. Richard. (Baptist)
Reeve Harriet, dressmaker
Reeve Thomas, butcher
Roberts S., National Schoolmaster.
Smith John, tea-dealer
Smith Thomas, shoemaker
Smith Wm., parish-clerk
Wilbee F., agent. at Welton wharf.

Farmers & Graziers.
Marked thus * are yeomen.

Howard Samuel. (& brick-manufacturer & coal-merchant.)
Jones William
*Lee Thomas
Pearcey Thomas
Robbins Samuel
Robinson John
Sabin Thomas
Townsend-William
*Winterton J., Welton Grange
Winterton Ralph
Wokley William

Letters are received through the Daventry office.

Carrier to Daventry – John Field, Wednesday and Saturday

Written by Jackie Hibbert

The first documentary evidence about Welton is in the Domesday Book, but the village obviously existed well before 1086.  Roman coins and artefacts found in and around the village suggest that there was a Roman presence here and there may well have been Ancient Britons farming in the area before that, given that the village is only a stone’s throw from a number of Iron Age Hill Forts, including one at Daventry.

Entry in Domesday Book showing 10 households

The name “Welton” probably comes from the Old English “welle” meaning Spring and the Anglo-Saxon “ton” meaning settlement.  There are several springs in the parish which would have made it an attractive site for a settlement.  Nucleated settlements with shared fields started to replace isolated farms during the eighth and ninth centuries, so Welton probably became established as a village at that time.  There was a Chapel belonging to the Church in Daventry on the site of St. Martin’s Church; in fact, the Anglo-Saxon font is still in the present building.  As a chapel rather than a church, burials could not take place in the churchyard.  Instead, villagers had to pay a “heriot” to the Church in Daventry for a burial there. 

The Norman Invasion

After the Norman invasion in 1066, things would have remained quiet for a few years, but then at some point, probably during the 1070s, Osbern de Neufmarche and his soldiers arrived and “violently seized” the Chapel. 

This was most likely in response to the widespread rebellion taking place in the country, in support of Edgar the Ætheling’s claim to the throne.  

We can imagine the local rebels barricaded inside the chapel for protection, but unfortunately history does not tell us much about how it all ended.  Osbern was given land in Welton and had his main residence here.  This was probably initially at the top of the hill, where the recreation ground is now situated.  It would have been a fortified manor house, possibly a little like a castle.  The Chapel was not returned to the Church in Daventry until the 1130s, when Osbern’s son William came to an agreement with the Priory in Daventry.

Osbern’s grand-daughter, Agnes, received Welton as a dowry when she married Richard Mallory of Kirby Mallory in Leicestershire.  The family split their time between Kirby Mallory and Welton and their descendants continued to have a house in Welton until the early 1400s.  At some point, probably in the 1200s, the house moved its position from the top of the hill to the bottom of the hill, when it became fashionable for the wealthy to have a moated manor house a little way away from the dwellings of the common people.  This manor house fell into ruins in the fifteenth century; nothing is left of it but the lumps and bumps in fields behind the present Welton Manor suggest that it was there.  The village, at this time, would still have been confined to the top of the hill with roads forming a figure of eight around the Church and the original site of Osbern’s fortified manor house.

The 13th Century

During the thirteenth century, there was a population explosion in Welton.  The Chapel was most likely enlarged during this time but would still not have been as large as the current building.  If you visit the Church, you will see a carving of a lion’s head on the west wall which dates from this time.  It may have been a winged lion (look at it from the side to see the wings), the symbol of St. Mark and may have been one of a set of four apostle carvings around the building.  Records still exist of who farmed which piece of land in the common fields.  Some family names would stick around for centuries, for example “Green”, “England”, “Tew” and “Eyre”.  Other families would die out in the troubles of the following centuries.

The 14th Century

The fourteenth century was a disastrous time nationally and locally.  At the beginning of the century, famine, caused by climate change and several livestock diseases, led to hunger and malnutrition.  Then in 1348-9 there was a catastrophic pandemic known then as “The Mortality” or “The Great Pestilence”.  We now refer to it as “The Black Death”. 

The pandemic certainly wiped out a proportion of the population of Welton, including the Priest.  Later in the century the pandemic returned, and by the early 15^th century, field and tax records show a much-reduced population.  It is likely that some of the houses in the village fell into ruin during this time.  Some people, however, benefitted financially from the pandemic, for example Henry Eyre who inherited his brother’s property in Welton (later to be known as Welton House) and his uncle’s property in Braunston. 

The 15th Century

In the early fifteenth century, the Mallory family ceased to live in Welton, and the fortified manor house fell into ruins.  The manor still passed to the Mallory family descendants through the female line, but they were absent landlords.  The manor was managed by the Catesby family of Ashby St. Ledgers, and John Catesby purchased Welton House from Henry Eyre.  Welton House was now the most prestigious building in the village.  It would therefore have been quite a natural progression for villagers when William Catesby bought the estate in the 1480s at the same time as acquiring several other villages in the area.  But normal life was interrupted in August 1485. 

William Catesby, a staunch supporter of Richard III, needed to raise an army to fight against Henry Tudor.  It would have been made up from people from the local villages who were duty bound not only to pay their rent to William, but also to offer military service under his command.

 On 22^nd August, the armies came together, Richard III lost his horse, his kingdom and his life and William Catesby was captured.  A week later, William Catesby was executed as a traitor and the local villages became the property of King Henry VII.  How many of the army managed to return home, we do not know, but records after this time show that many of the family names did not continue.  It is therefore likely that this one event had a significant impact on Welton.  The surnames Tew, Green and England continued.

Around this time, many villages in the midlands were being cleared for sheep farming.  The population of the country had still not recovered after successive outbreaks of the Black Death, the income of estate owners fell, there were insufficient tenants to work the land and many estates were financially unviable unless the common fields were turned into pasture.  Welton was saved from this fate partially because it now belonged to the King and partially because of the rise of the cottage weaving industry.  There was no shortage of wool!   When other villages in the area were cleared, some of the displaced peasants moved to Welton and farmed the local fields or worked on their looms.  During the sixteenth century, things were therefore looking better for the village; in addition to employment in cottage industries and the fields there would have been a miller, a blacksmith, a wheelwright, a stonemason, a baker and the beginnings of other newer trades.  Many of the village houses were now being built or rebuilt using stone from the local stonepits and if you were very lucky, you may have had a chimney instead of a hole in the roof. 

King Henry VII granted the manor to one of his relatives, David Owen.  David was still an absent landlord, as were his successors.  When King Henry VIII closed the Monasteries and Priories, the Chapel became a Church and for the first time in its history, villagers were allowed to bury their deceased relatives in the churchyard. 

By the time of Queen Elizabeth I, the manor was owned by Richard Knightley (of Norton, Fawsley, Everdon, etc!).  Richard was a keen puritan and installed a puritan as vicar, Eusebius Walker.  This was well before the puritan movement took hold across all of England, and bishops were a little wary of it.

Eusebius came to the attention of the Bishop of Peterborough as he had excommunicated Joan Green for criticising the length of services.  A sermon could easily last for three hours or more! 

The 17th Century

In the Seventeenth Century Richard Knightley sold the estate to the Adams family, who set about building a new Manor House at the bottom of the hill, Churchill Manor.   Although the family administered the estate, they were not the only wealthy family in the village.  The owners of the Ashby St. Ledger estate still held Welton House (and would do so right up to the twentieth century) and there was another family in the village who were establishing a reputation in Northamptonshire, the Clarke family.  During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, this family would continue to amass land and wealth, acquiring the estate of Drayton Manor in Daventry and building “Welton Place”, a large mansion in Welton complete with a landscaped park.  Meanwhile, the boundaries of the village expanded down towards the bottom of the hill.

The 18th Century

In the mid-eighteenth century, Welton was one of the first villages in Northamptonshire to feel the impact of inclosure of the common fields.  Whether this was a good or bad thing depended on how wealthy you were!  There were demonstrations, discussions in parliament, petitions, etc., but eventually an act of parliament was passed, and many villagers simply became tenant farmers or worse.  This event altered the landscape; there were new hedges planted and some of the more modern field names were established.  The weaving industry continued in Welton, but by the turn of the century was struggling because of the Napoleonic wars (which disrupted the export of the finished goods) and competition with the cotton industry in the north of the country.  After all, who wants to wear itchy woollen undies when you can have cotton ones!  The problems led to increased poverty in the village, for example, George Ringrose, a master weaver, initially had to expand his business to also run a shop from his house but eventually became bankrupt and lost everything.

The 19th Century

The Clarke family appeared to still be prospering; by the early years of the nineteenth century they had bought the estate of Welton Manor and were also managing farmland just down the road at Thrupp.  However, other documents show that they had a huge mortgage and rents from their tenants were often not forthcoming.  As a result, the debts mounted.  In the 1820s the family were forced to put part of the estate up for auction, but eventually were able to take out another mortgage to cover the debts.   Despite the financial difficulties, the Clarke family did what they could for the people of the village, for example building a school.  The first school was where the village hall now stands, and this was handed over to the National Society who were running Church Schools.  It moved to its current site at the beginning of the twentieth century.

During the second half of the nineteenth century, the vicar, Rev. Darnell, ran a boarding school from what is now the Stone House. 

This catered for the children of friends of his who were working abroad, mostly in the West Indies.  At the same time, Colonel Richard Trevor Clarke was making a name for himself in the world of horticulture.  He was a founder member of the RHS Scientific Committee, is quoted in one of Charles Darwin’s books and spent considerable time developing hybrids of common garden plants and cotton plants.  I’m afraid the story that he discovered the plant “Clarkia” is a myth – it was discovered by an American seaman, Captain Clark, in the previous century, however, some of our Colonel Clarke’s hybrids had “Weltonia” in the name.  Whilst this all made the village look prosperous on the surface, underneath this story there was severe poverty.  There were three or four attempts to start a workhouse in the village but the solution eventually was a number of parish houses let to the poor on peppercorn rents together with a Parish scheme for distributing alms to the poor.  Properties were falling into disrepair and Welton really was not on the top of the list of desirable places to live.  Some of the properties that were rebuilt during this time used the bricks produced in the local brick kilns but most remained “unsanitary”. 

Despite the poverty, people found enough cash to support the two pubs in the village (The White Horse and the Red Lion).  On Sundays, they would attend St. Martin’s Church or one of the two non-conformist chapels, The Baptist Chapel which sat on the corner where Ashby Road meets Station Road (image below) and the Methodist Chapel, situated in Well Lane. 

The 20th Century

By the beginning of the twentieth century, the new vicar, Mr Edward Liddell, tried to help the unemployed by organising woodwork lessons to teach young men a skill which could lead to employment. 

Their handiwork can be seen in the church with the carvings on the pulpit and the carved hand just inside the North Door.  A brass plaque by the pulpit lists the names of those who were involved.  Sadly, some of those same names appear on the war memorial at the other side of the Church. 

The twentieth century probably saw the biggest changes in the fortunes of the village.  The coming of the motor car led to greater prosperity as people could travel to work.  Welton Place was let to the Garrard Family, jewellers to royalty, and many important visitors came to the village.  Whilst two World Wars took their toll in terms of lives, the devastation in a small village was minor compared to the cities such as Coventry.  Some of the older houses in the village were replaced by more modern houses.  Whilst we can be sentimental about what was lost, we would not wish to live in the conditions of some of those houses.  In the middle of the century, Welton House was bought by Sir Halford Reddish, Director of Rugby Cement.  He was a great benefactor to the village, donating the organ to the church and land for the village hall.  New housing was built as parts of the Welton Place estate were sold off.  Eventually, the mansion itself was sold off and demolished, making room for Clarkes Way.  At the bottom of the village, where Elms Dyke currently stands, there was a plastics factory.  Churchill Manor House was at one stage a Retirement Home, but was later converted back to a house.  By the end of the twentieth century, Welton House had also gone following a fire in the 1980s, making way for Halford Way.  The village was rapidly rising up the list of desirable places to live. 

The 21st Century

And here we are in the twenty-first century.  The next paragraph of history is up to everyone who lives in Welton to design and write for we are all history makers