A few words about the government of our City. When I first came to the Town, the principal governor, the one who made the greatest impression on my youthful imagination, at all events, was the Beadle. He was a very important personage. His principal duty was to see the tramps out of the town. He could not arrest them, but had to “fidget” them out. He was always chosen with special reference to his age and infirmity. He had a long robe, a mace, and a cocked hat. He looked very imposing, almost like Old Scarlett in the Cathedral put into a long coat, a pair of knee breeches, and a cocked hat. He was paid in this way: At the Quarter Sessions he waited upon the Magistrates with a bill: “A man and a woman sent out Stamford Road,” “Two tramps and a child, Lincoln Road,” and so on. As we say educationally, he was paid by results. He was allowed so much according to his services. He was the principal officer of the place, and was appointed by the Feoffees.
About the year 1857 we were protected by Parish Constables, and I think the principal duty of the constable was to report himself at the Quarter Sessions. We had two gaols—we could not do with one! One of these was that in the Minster Precincts, recently vacated by the School of Art. The other stood upon what is now the site of the Cumbergate Almshouses. The one in the Minster Yard was maintained by Lord Exeter as Lord Paramount. The other one, I think, was paid for by the Magistrates. In 1840 we got an Act of Parliament for a new gaol, and it was brought about in this way: In about the year 1838 or 1839 a person walking through the Minster Yard saw a head pop up out of the pavement, a body followed, walked off, and was never heard of again. The man had simply undermined the foundations of his cell with a knife or bone and disappeared! He was the first that discovered that way of escape!
About the same time in Peterborough was a family named Rogers. They were the black sheep of the place. The head of the family was known as Jimmy Rogers, and he took it into his head to dine one day upon sheep’s head and pluck which he stole from a butcher’s shop. He was ordered to be put into the Feoffees’ Gaol. He picked his way out, and this thief of the district and his family disappeared and never came back again. It was thought to be time we had a gaol, and the present building on the Thorpe Road was erected.
You must not think that we had no amusements. We used to have a theatre on the site where the Corn Exchange now stands, and a very good theatre it was. A very good company used to come for about three months in the summer, and a very good entertainment was afforded. The Bishop and his Lady of those days used to make a point of attending during the season, and it was quite the thing to go to the theatre.
The Fairs were very important in those days. The importance must not be judged by what is seen of them now. Bridge Fair was then most important. It shows the antiquity of the fairs that they had a special Court. All fairs and markets of any antiquity had this Court which was to do justice between man and man in any disputes arising at the fairs.
We had two Balls regularly, one for the National School and one for the Infirmary. When political feeling ran high one Party would go to the National School Ball and the other to the Infirmary Ball. At other times each party would go to both.
Peterborough was one of the last places in which Sedan chairs flourished. They went on until some time after the railways were established, which altered everything. The men were too much occupied to be able to go with the Sedan chairs when they were wanted, and so they gradually died out.
Whittlesey Mere existed in those days. It was thus called because it had nothing whatever to do with Whittlesey. It was several miles away. Whittlesey Mere was one of the wonders of Huntingdonshire, Whittlesey being in Cambridgeshire. Whittlesey Mere was a charming place for skating in frosty weather and for fishing in the summer time, when there was water enough, and for boating under the same circumstances. Sometimes, when there had been a dry time it became so shallow that you stirred up mud from the bottom when you attempted to sail. It was very good for fishing. One day we were out with a party, and we stopped at old Bellamy Bradford’s landing place. It shelved off so gradually that the distinction between grass and water was so graduated that a large pike, probably in pursuit of a fish, had gone so far as to be prevented from getting back to his native element. The place was surrounded by reed shoals, where reeds for thatching grew, and these were the resort of innumerable starlings.