Gloucestershire Notes February 1798
The principles of freedom, of humanity, and of justice will
Triumph over falsehood, tyranny and delusion
For reasons that will become apparent this report is written in the anonymous form and I must uphold readers to, absolute confidentiality.
News came to my ears that JT was in these parts; I was to meet him at valley view mill where JT was considering retiring here and, JT had sourced suitable residency. We greeted at this place maintaining our distance. I could sense a general air of anxiety, JT was constantly looking backwards mumbling about “London Spies” and, “The most wanted man in England”. JT quickly reprimanded me; henceforth I should refer to him as “Citizen John”; I was to be referred to as ….
The citizen wished to visit the village of Nailsworth: its valleys, springs and mills as stealthily as we could, given the circumstances. In Nailsworth the citizen espied a small coffee house, a home from home. We were in need of refreshment; I was to stay guard and on look out. C J was in the establishment for what felt like an age; I was afeared that the worst had become. Some moments later an ebullient figure emerged; it transpired that the citizen was indeed recognised and had escaped, not from arrest from other citizens wanting a memento of his auspicious visit to the ‘shire; cups and even saucers had to be touched and written upon by the good citizen. JT 1798.
I urged haste, feeling the worst and that our days could easily be numbered. This indeed was an apposite notion; our route had been blocked. NO ONE should pass. The citizen showed incredible resilience and motivation to speak to the mill workers of Chalford. He suggested that our steps should be retraced and an alternative route to be planned. I explained that we could be “Pedestrians” and go ,canal and riverside to the East India Company mill and its tributary mills; whilst I am sure that the citizen’s primary motivation was to speak and motivate; it transpired that CJ had a thirst for alcohol which he wished to redeem via supped ale at “The Company’s Arms” I remonstrated with the Citizen how such a venture could put our lives in precarious danger; he was having none of it and, had such steely determination.
We continued, each of us aware of the danger that may behold us. The veritable botanist pointed out the green of the Iris as it grew mid- canal. With an eye for these things once more, JT spied a coffee house with a Biblical intonation insisting this is where we must break. The place had such an impact on mind, thoughts and feelings, canal and river together, forever damaged by the scarlet and blue flowing through. The citizen as if in some kind of trance talked about a bridge that carried a “Horseless Carriage” upon it. I knew not what he talked about; maybe fear had impacted adversely upon him.
The citizen had much knowledge of the EIC. The Chalford Links and the plundering of India. I was not proud to hear this talk and felt very shamed, needing to get away to Stroud we went. The citizen spied a route by which we could avoid the main throng up Spring Lane which seemed like traveling through a time warp. As we ascended a fellow shouted out at the Citizen whose attention grabbed, turned round and, warmly greeted Captain, yes “My Captain” Moreo, who was on his way to hear a fellow speak about a tragedy that had occurred two days earlier. For unimaginable reasons beyond my comprehension we had leaped forward five years
A fellow dressed in pantaloons was addressing a sombre throng who interjected and cheered despite the authorities’ remonstrations. We learned about the execution of Colonel Despard on the 21st of February IN the year of our Lord 1803. Edward Despard was hung but not quartered. The speaker explained how the colonel had written with his wife a speech which he read out on the gallows. A brave speech fortified by love until the end of a good woman. The high Admiral himself, we learned, had petitioned in favour of Edward.
Pedestrianly, the two of us descended Nelson street past Trafalgar House and onwards to a lunar type landscape. We read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author. John Keats …who, auspiciously died 200 years to the day of our journey.
In submission I thank:
Author John Thelwell
Author Edward Despard
Author Catherine Despard
Author Peter Linebaugh
Author Stuart Butler
