Herefordshire Through Time
Herefordshire Through Time
"Why do I keep this voluminous journal? I can hardly tell. Partly because life appears to me such a curious and wonderful thing that it almost seems a pity that such a humble and uneventful life such as mine should pass altogether away without some such record as this, and partly too because I think the record may amuse and interest some who come after me."
Ordained in 1864 and having served for a short time as curate to his father in Langley Burrell, Wiltshire, Francis Kilvert moved to Clyro, Radnorshire in 1865 to serve as curate to the Reverend Richard Lister Venables. In January 1870, Francis began recording the everyday events of his life. Sadly, much of the diary was later destroyed by members of Kilvert's family, but the remaining journal provides valuable information about rural life 130 years ago.
The recently opened Hereford, Hay and Brecon Railway afforded new opportunities for travel and Kilvert often took a train from one of the local stations. Hereford (Barrs Court) station is still operational though others mentioned in the diary closed some years ago.
Rapturous about the countryside in and around Herefordshire, Kilvert usually only mentions Hereford city within the context of travelling. On one occasion, after an early start from Chippenham in pouring rain and losing his hatbox en route, Kilvert arrives in Hereford, very annoyed and probably very wet. However, his problems continue.
"... I missed the 12.25 train from Hereford to Hay and had to wait three dreary hours in pouring rain in that most wretched and dreary of towns. I felt fit to hang myself and in self-defence went from Moorfields into the town in the rain and bought a book to read by Margaret Fuller Ossoli Summer upon the Lakes, an autobiography with a life of the authoress, published at 2/- but I got it for sixpence." (Perhaps this bargain made up for the inconvenience.)
There is an amusing account in the diary relating to Mrs Henry Dew of Whitney-on-Wye and her visit to Hereford.
"... At Whitney station Henry Dew and his mother old Mrs Dew got into the train to go to Hereford. But one carriage was full of farmers and another was full of smoke generated by the two Captains so they went first class and paid the difference. While Mrs Dew was standing upright in the carriage, the train snatched on suddenly, throwing her back breathless into her seat, the station master threw in a parcel of blankets after them and away they went leaving on the platform a brace of rabbits which they were to have taken to the Frederick Dews. The rabbits were sent after them by the next train, but being insufficiently addressed and unable to find Mrs Dew they came back by the train following.
"Meanwhile Mrs Dew in Hereford had been much discomposed and aggrieved because her sons Henry and Frederick would not allow her to spend more than an hour and a half at Gethin's the upholsterer's, a time in which Henry Dew said he could have bought the whole town. He declared he never was so glad to get away from anywhere as from Gethin's shop where young Gethin and four shop men were all serving Mrs Dew on the broad grin. Then Mrs Dew bought a large bag of buns and sweets for her grandchildren at Aylestone Hill, the young Frederick Dews, but in the excitement of parting she forgot to leave the bag and brought it to Whitney. Then to crown all she was nearly driven over and killed by an omnibus in Broad Street. The omnibus came suddenly round a corner and she holloed at the driver and the driver holloed at her, the end of it being that she was nearly knocked down by the pole. Her son Henry saved her and told her she was not fit to go about Hereford by herself. She said she was. He said she thought she was ten years old and could go anywhere and was as obstinate as she could be. While they were arguing a cab came round the corner and nearly knocked the old lady down again. 'There,' said her son, 'there you go again. Are you satisfied now?'"
Kilvert's sister, Thersie, was married to the vicar of Monnington-on-Wye in Herefordshire, the Reverend William Smith, and Francis describes his first visit.
"... William met us at Moorhampton (station) with the dogcart and chestnut horse Paddy and drove us to Monnington. I like the look of the place very much. The house is large and comfortable and the situation pretty, roomy and pleasant. One great feature of the place is the famous 'Monnington Walk', a noble avenue of magnificent Scotch firs ..."
Francis Kilvert had a wonderful gift of being able to mix with all social classes. He took his calling very seriously and was loved by rich and poor alike.
Following his time as curate in Clyro and a further time serving his father, Francis became vicar of St Harmon near Rhayader (1876). He was there for a year when the living of Bredwardine with Brobury was offered to him, which he readily accepted. True to form, Kilvert was concerned for the poor of the parish and records:
"... As I came down the hill at noon the usual Tuesday crowd of people was gathered round the charity bread and meat cart in the Square in front of the Lion (pub). Elizabeth Bubb came out of the crowd with a beaming face. 'I have good news for you,' she said. 'They have given Mary Jackson the sick allowance, bread, meat, tea and sugar.'"
Very fond of children, it hurt Kilvert deeply each time he had to conduct the burial of a child, which in those days was a frequent occurrence. One of the most moving pieces in the diary refers to the funeral of "Little Davie" of the Old Weston, Bredwardine.
"... Immediately after dinner I had to go back to the church for the funeral of little Davie of the Old Weston who died on Monday was fixed for 2.15. The weather was dreadful, the snow driving in blinding clouds and the walking tiresome. Yet the funeral was only 20 minutes late. The Welcome Home, as it chimed softly and slowly to greet the little pilgrim coming to his rest, sounded bleared and muffled through the thick snowy air. The snow fell thickly all through the funeral service and at the service by the grave a kind woman offered her umbrella which a kind young fellow came and held over my head. The woman and man were Mrs Richards and William Jackson. I asked the poor mourners to come in and rest and warm themselves (at the vicarage, next door), but they would not and went into Church. The poor father, David Davies the shepherd, was crying bitterly for the loss of his little lamb. Owing to the funeral it was rather late before we began the afternoon service. There were very few people in Church beside the mourners. The afternoon was very dark. I was obliged to move close to the great south window to read the Lessons and could hardly see even then ... "
The Old Weston is much the same today, a quaint cottage set in idyllic surroundings but a good way from the road. Little Davie's family would have had to carry the coffin down the long drive and about a mile to the church in the appalling weather. The child is buried in Bredwardine churchyard.
Less than a year later, having been married just a month, Kilvert died from peritonitis. The whole village was grief stricken. People from all walks of life attended his funeral. His grave lies near the church and his last home, the beautiful vicarage.
In 1948 the Kilvert Society was set up to keep alive an interest in the diaries and the countryside Kilvert loved so much. Over the years, the journals have given pleasure to people all over the world. Appropriately, the inscription on the diarist's headstone reads: "He, being dead, yet speaketh" (Hebrews 11:4).
For further information visit The Kilvert Society website.
© Ann Dean, 2004