This post contains the text of a tribute to Julian Hunt that I delivered (through a recording) to the Wind Engineering community gathered at London Ontario for the Conference Dinner of the Computational Wind Engineering Conference in June 2026. I cannot claim to have known Julian well – he would have regarded me as a simple acquaintance – and much of the material below is derived from other public sources. However it does contain some personal memories, that are of particular relevance to those in the wind engineering discipline and I hope it will be of some interest to readers in that community. Note that the tribute as delivered was somewhat shorter than that contained below because of the restrictions of time.
Other obituaries
Other obituaries can be found via the following links.
Julian Charles Ronald Hunt was born in Madras in British India in 1941, where his father was a civil servant and diplomat, but spent most of his childhood in England with relatives. He attended Westminster School and Trinity College Cambridge, where he read Mechanical Sciences and graduated with a 1st Class BA in 1963, before carrying out postgraduate research in the field of magnetohydrodynamics, for which he was awarded a PhD in 1967. He had been elected a Fellow of Trinity College in 1966 and in 1967 he undertook post-doctoral research as a Fulbright Scholar at Cornell. From 1968 to 1970, he was a research officer with the Central Electricity Generating Board where, amongst other things, he studied the collapse of the Ferrybridge Cooling Towers. On his return to Cambridge in 1970 he was made a university lecturer in applied mathematics and engineering, and was later appointed Reader and Professor of Fluid Dynamics in 1990. He held numerous visiting professorships, and was also a visiting scholar at the United States EPA in 1977 and the National Center for Atmospheric Research in 1983. He was a founding director of Cambridge Environmental Research Consultants in 1985, which developed his academic work into practical applications, and remained as Chairman of the company until 2022.In 1989 he was elected as a Fellow of the Royal Society and in 1992, became Director General of the Meteorological Office. In 1997 he became Professor of Climate Modelling at University College London, from where he retired in 2008.
Julian Hunt married Marylla Shephard in 1965 and they had three children: novelist Jemima; medical doctor Matilda; and historian and former Member of Parliament, Tristram. He was politically active and joined the British Labour Party in the 1960s, and was served as a Councillor on Cambridge City Council from 1971 to 1974, being leader of the Labour Group in 1972. He was created a life peer as Baron Hunt of Chesterton (a suburb to the north of Cambridge) in 2000. He died on April 20th 2026.
I first came across Julian as a final year undergraduate at Cambridge in the early 1970s when he lectured to me – a short course on vorticity and a longer course on pollutant dispersal based on Gaussian plume modelling, which emphasised the importance of the Richardson number, named after the noted mathematician and meteorologist Lweis Fry Richardson. It was some years later that I realised that he was Julian’s great uncle. Julian’s lectures were always entertaining, but more than a little chaotic and taking any sort of coherent notes was far from easy. Nonetheless mucgh of the narerial he covered was to inform my research and scholarship for many years afterwards. I undertook my Bachelor’s project in the Hydraulic Laboratory of the Department of Engineering, where there was a prominently displayed photograph of Julian Hunt as a research student from a few years previously, with a suitably 1960s flowing hair style, collecting signatures for an anti-Vietnam war petition.
I saw rather more of him as a PhD student, where his work on flow topology helped me in the interpretation of oil flow visualization of horseshoe vortices. He gave a seminar on this topic in the Department of Applied Mathematics on this work, and it was there that I observed one of the few occasions when he appeared unsure of himself, wondering what the audience of very able mathematicians would make of his essentially observational topological work.
On another memorable occasion, as I was walking through Cambridge to do some shopping, he cycled towards me, braked heavily on seeing me, took out a notebook and paper and, whilst still astride his bicycle, sketched out how my smoke flow visualization of horseshoe vortices could be used to check his theory of flow between two buildings. This brief encounter was to result in a short paper in one of the early editions of the Journal of Wind Engineering and Industrial Aerodynamics.
Throughout the following decades, Julian was an ever present in the Fluid Mechanics and Wind Engineering Community, at conferences and seminars, and was very supportive in the early days of the UK Wind Engineering Society. His talks were always stimulating even if the style remained a little chaotic and always delivered with confidence. On one occasion I remember him walking into a meeting of the Hazards forum a little late and finding his name down to give a presentation, that he had clearly forgotten about. For the next 20 minutes he sat at the back of the room and wrote one out (it was the days of OHP acetates, not PowerPoint) and then proceeded to give a coherent presentation that gave no clue as to its recent genesis.
Whilst perhaps best known to the wider world for his work on meteorology, climatology and hazard prediction Julian Hunt’s contribution to the development of wind engineering has of course been significant, laying the basis for the study of wind effects on pedestrians, wind flow over hills, wind forces on and flows around buildings and the dispersion of pollutants, all based on his fundamental work on the nature of atmospheric turbulence. Much of his work on pollutant dispersion has been incorporated in the ADMS modelling suite which is used worldwide as a powerful design tool.
But, as well as these very real achievements, I would suggest Julian’s greatest gift was his ability to analyse a problem, identify the most significant parameters, and develop simple theoretical approaches that could be both practically useful and offer considerable and generisable insights. With our current abilities to generate very large experimental and computational datasets that can so easily cloud our basic understanding of the phenomena we study, cultivating such an approach is perhaps more important than ever, to underpin the huge advances in technology that we are experiencing.
Ladies and Gentlemen, as I am recording this well before you all sat down to eat this evening, I have no idea what will be the state of the meal you are enjoying, but if you still have something left in the glass before you, I would ask you to raise it in a toast, to the memory of Professor Lord Julian Hunt FRS, Baron Hunt of Chesterton.
Two large inscribed boards at the west end of All Saints church list the vicars of the church from 1227 to the present day (figure 1). This list matches those found in church guides written over the last 100 years and date back to the primary research found in a 1903 article in the Rutland County Magazine and Historical Record of 1905. Whist this list is quite comprehensive, a more detailed resource is now available – the The Clergy of the Church of England Database 1540-1835 (CCEd) which contains information from a wider variety of sources than were available in 1905. In this post we look at the information that can be obtained from this database about the life and times of Vicars of Oakham for the period 1540-1835 – roughly corresponding to the top half of the second board in figure 1.
Figure 1. The Vicar boards at All Saints Church
The database listing
A listing of the Vicars of Oakham from the database is given in Table 1 below. The table gives the names and the year and type of the event recorded. The hyperlinks on the names link to the information held in the database of the career that particular person, both at Oakham and elsewhere, and the hyperlinks in the “View” column link to details of the particular event recorded. The types of event are as follows.
Appt (Admission) – Definition not clear
Appt (Collation) – Candidate appointed by the Bishop as Patron, combining presentation and institution
Appt (Institution) – Appointment of the candidate to the living by the Bishop
Appt (Licensing) – Appointed with a Bishop’s license
Appt (Presentation) – Patron presents the candidate to the Bishop
Disp (Dispensation) – Some variation of normal practice
LibC – Liber Cleri – Name found in Visitation records
Not only does the database list the Vicars of Oakham, but also those who were curates or licensed preachers, and these are shown in Table 2. The intermittent nature of this listing suggests that this list is far from complete. Indeed the database also lists curates in the associated parishes of Egleton, Barleythorpe, Langham and other chapels, who were probably under the oversight of the vicar of Oakham.
In what follows we delve deeper into the database to learn more about the clergy named in the above tables.
Reformation, counter Reformation and the Elizabethan settlement (1540 -1596)
Henry VIII died in 1547, and was succeeded by his son Edward VI (1547-1553). In his reign the Protestant Reformation took hold, with the publication of the 1549 Prayer book in English. The situation rapidly changed when his sister Mary (1553 to 1558) came to the throne, with the Catholic Counter Reformation. This period was a time of turmoil for the church, with loyalties tested amid persecution and martyrdom. The situation stabilised when Elizabeth I came to the throne, with a return to Protestantism, but acceptance, if not approval of catholic worship as long as it was carried out discretely.
George Daddley, who appears on the board for 1528, does not appear in the database, presumably because all the information about him precedes 1540, the start date for the database. The first vicar recorded in the database after that date is William (Willimus) Archebolde who resigned in 1561. He was Vicar of Blakeskey from 1551 and presumably resigned at some time after that to take up the position at Oakham. He was also Vicar of Bugbrooke from 1560 to1561 and Vicar of Kislingbury 1559-1568. How he fared in the reigns of Edward and Mary is unknown – but he at least survived to the reign of Elizabeth. He was succeeded at Oakham by Thomas Tarte in 1561. Tarte presumably resigned after two or three years and was succeeded by John (Johannes) Bartlett (again not on the board) who himself resigned in 1565. This rapid turnover of clergy then came to an end with the appointment of Thomas Thyckpennye, who had been a curate at North Luffenham from 1562, who remained in post until 1596.
The Stuarts, the Civil War and the Restoration (1596-1691)
Over the course of the seventeenth century, the stability achieved under Elizabeth was to be lost under the Stuart Monarchs and during the Civil War and the Commonwealth. Again, this would result in far reaching disruption to he life of the church, with conflict between the episcopal Church of England and the Presbyterian parliament. However for the first 40 years of the century there was a sense of stability, with only one, long serving vicar, William Peachie. His career is well documented in the database.
Father Thomas and born in Essex,
Matriculated as a Pensioner at St John’s, Cambridge , Michaelmas 1582
B.A. 1586-7; M.A. 1590; B.D. 1597. Fellow, 1590
Ordained Deacon and Priest on the same day in 1591
Vicar of Exton, Rutland, 1592-6.
Vicar of Oakham, 1596-1643
Father Thomas buried at Oakham in 1602
Rector of Burrough-on-the-Hill, Leics., 1628-43.
Died Oct. 6, 1643, aged 78. M.I. at Oakham.
Father of Josias (1617), John (1620) and Samuel (1614).
Early in his incumbency, a report of a Visitation suggest the church was in poor repair.
The seats on the south aisle are all broken in the bottom and neither paved nor boarded. Pavement in the east and north aisles broken. The chancel and the chapel on the north side neither plastered nor whited…Two bell wheels broken but being mended. The communion table unfit. The linen cloths very old. The north door in decay
Subtus jacet Venerab. Vir Guil. Peachie S.T.B. quondam Coll. D. Joh. Cant. Soc. nuper bujus EcclesiaVic. Morum innocentia satis laudatus, in arte concionandi Versatiss. Quator Trium, Insignum Theologor, Pater Soror Qui OJob. 6. Non tam morbo confectus, quam vivendi tedio lassatus, placide expiravit. Dom. 1643. Etat. 78. Residentia, 47. Noli vexare Quiescit.
The gravestone no longer exists. The English Translation is as follows.
Beneath lies the Venerable. Rev William Peachie S.T.B. formerly of the College of St John, Cambridge. Recently the Vicar of the Church. His innocence of morals is highly praised, he is skilled in the art of preaching. Four Three, Insignia Theologian, Father Sister Job 6 Not so much worn out by illness, as worn out by the tedium of life, he expired peacefully. Died 1643 Age 78 Residence 47 Don’t bother him. He’s resting.
Peachie thus survived through the reigns of James I and Charles I, but by the time of his death, the Civil War was underway and the relative peace of the first half of the century shattered. In this context one can perhaps appreciate the world weariness expressed in the inscription. It may also be that Peachie would have been required to sign the Solemn League and Covenant – a Presbyterian document of 1643 to which all those appointed to livings were required to subscribe. There are other indications in the record that his tenure was not wholly without incident. The records indicate that in 1609 John (Johannes) Green was presented to be Vicar of Oakham by the Patron, King James. No further details are known, and this may simply be a mistake in the original record or the transcription to the database. But it might indicate some sort of conflict over the living. Then in 1612, Nathaniel Gooch was licensed as a Preacher in the parish, having been ordained deacon and priest in 1607. What this role was in relation to Peachie is unknown, and Gooch is next found in the record as being appointed Vicar of Twyford in Leicestershire in 1630. Neither Green or Gooch are on the Vicar’s board. Further to these appointments, in 1639 James Chamberlin was appointed curate of the Parish and Preacher throughout the Diocese of Peterborough. He had been a curate and preacher at Kirkby Mallory, Earl Shilton Chapel from 1633. Again what his role was in relation to Peachie’s is not clear. The record shows him again at Kirkby Mallory, Earl Shilton chapel in 1662 after the Restoration. Again, as a curate he does not appear on the Vicar’s board.
We have little information on the next vicar other than his name – Richard Tydd, who was appointed in 1644, by when the conflict between Bishops and Presbyterians for control of the church was underway. His incumbency only lasted a year and it might be that he too was required to sign the covenant, but refused to do so. The next incumbent was one of the most consequential of the period under study – Abraham Wright. Details of his career can be found on a Wkipedea page, an obviously AI written Grokipedea page, the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography and Rutland Record 8, 1988. The latter is most succinct and is reproduced below.
WRIGHT, Rev. Abraham (1611-90) Oakham’s notable Vicar, Abraham Wright, was born in 1611. He became a Fellow at St John’s College, Oxford, in 1632 and, in 1636, when Archbishop Laud, a former President, came with King Charles 11 and the Queen to open the new Library, it was Abraham Wright who read his own poem of welcome, later contained in “Parnassus Biceps”. During the same visit, he acted before the Royal Visitors in “Love’s Hospital”. Earlier, he had written a comic interlude, which he called “The Reformation”. Later, he published his own Sermons, including one which he preached at his own Ordination, and another given before the King. Other writings include an essay in praise of Strafford. In 1645, Wright was offered the living of Oakham by William Juxon, his President when he went up to Oxford, and by now Bishop of London but, because he could not accept the interregnum requirement to take the covenant, he was not instituted until 1660. Instead, he was active in Peckham and St Olave’s, Hart Street. When 1660 came, he was offered the Chaplaincy to the Queen of Bohemia, the new King’s sister. However, he refused this and other offers of high preferment and chose to come and remain in Oakham until his death in 1690. He married twice. His first wife bore him James, the writer of The History and Antiquities of the County of Rutland, towards which Abraham Wright provided the cost of two plates, including one of the windows of a former hall of the Hospital of St John and St Anne. As a disciple of Juxon, and as seen in some of his writings, Abraham Wright was a Laudian and, as such, insisted on ceremonial, belief in the Sacraments and the dignity of the Priesthood.
Again there seems to have been problems with the church fabric in the latter part of Wright’s incumbency, perhaps partly due to neglect during the Civil War. From the Victoria County History 1935.
In 1681 an order was made on Mr. Abraham Wright, vicar, and Mr. Burton, tenant of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, to pave the chancel and repair the ceiling, seats and windows; and on the churchwardens to remove the rubbish out of the churchyard, repave the church alleys throughout, repair the seats and the roof and glaze the windows, rebind the Bible, provide a new Common Prayer Book, plaster and whitewash the vestry, provide a covering to one of the pewter flagons, a carpet for the Communion table of fine green or purple broad cloth, to repair the beam in the middle aisle over the minister’s pew and to take away the seats in the middle aisle.
Figure 2. The Abraham Wright Memorial
The memorial to Wright still exists on the west wall of the north transept (Figure 2). It is the only monument in the church written in Latin.
P. M. S. Prope jacet corpus venerabilis Abraham Wright M.A. quondam hujus Ecclesia Vicarij nata Londinensis, eruditione Oxoniensis, olim Collegij d. Johan Baptista in celebeuima ista Academia Socij. qui nons die Maij Salutis Christianæ 1690 ætatis sua 79, Vicariatus 30, pie et tranquille expiravit Beati mortui qui in domino moriuntur, amodo jam dicit spiritus ut requiescant a laboribus suis.
The English Translation is as follows.
P. M. S. Near lies the body of the venerable Abraham Wright M.A., formerly Vicar of this Church born in London, educated in Oxford formerly of the College of John the Baptist in that celebrated Academic Society who died on the 1st of May, 1690 aged 79 Vicar for 30 years, in piety and tranquillity. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on the Spirit says that they may rest from their labours.
The other “vicar” that deserves further mention is the one who replaced Wright during the Civil War and Commonwealth – Benjamin King (1545-1660). His name, unsurprisingly, does not feature on the Vicar’s Board. After the Restoration he was ejected from the living at Oakham, one of six in Rutland to suffer that fate. But he seems to have remained in the area. From the Victoria County History.
In 1672 a licence was granted to Benjamin King, who had been intruding minister at Oakham during the time of the Commonwealth, for Presbyterians to meet at the house of Matthias Barry at Oakham. King had two daughters, one of whom married Vincent Alsop, usher of Oakham School and later an eminent minister in Westminster; the other married Robert Ekins, the first minister in the Northgate Barn.
The eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (1691-1835)
The eighteenth century again saw two long incumbencies – John Warburton from 1691 to 1736, and John Williams from 1736 to 1782. Curates become more common (or they are recorded more diligently) with six in total recorded during these incumbencies.
After the death of John Williams, his place was taken by his son Richard. He had been ordained deacon in 1771 and priest in 1772, a was curate of Stapleford in Leicestershire and vicar of Skillington in Lincolnshire from 1772. He was vicar of Oakham from 1782 to 1806 – a relatively short incumbency of only 24 years! He in his turn was succeeded by his son, another Richard, whose was ordained deacon and priest in 1801 and 1802. He was a curate in his father’s parish from 1801 until he succeeded him in 1806. In addition he was Usher at Oakham School from 1802-10. curate of Langham from 1801,vicar. of Enderby with Whetstone in Leicestershire from1803-15 and domestic chaplain to George Finch,9th Earl of Winchilsea and Nottingham of Burley House from 1806 to 1815 (the patron of the church, and thus the one who presented him to the living). Only two curates are recorded during the incumbencies of the two Richards.
A monument to all three Williams is still in place in the north transept of the church and is shown in Figure 3.
Figure 3. The Williams memorial
The final vicar in the period of the Clergy of the Church of England dataset is Heneage Finch, grandson of Heneage Finch, 3rd Earl of Aylesford (History of the Finch Family, Brayan I’Anson, 1933) and a distant relative of George Finch,9th Earl of Winchilsea and Nottingham mentioned above, the patron of the living. He was ordained deacon and priest in 1812, and was curate of Harpsden before moving to Oakham in1815. He was also Rector of Great Weldon from 1812 to 1819 and Domestic chaplain to William Legge, 4th earl of Dartmouth and Viscount Lewisham from 1815. He was another long serving vicar and died in post in 1865. It was during his incumbency that the church was restored by Gilbert Scott in 1858. Before that, as can be judged by Scott’s report, the church was again in a very poor state of repair. Indeed a lecture of 1860 that describes the pre-Restoration state of the church mentions
….that old ladies sat in church with their umbrellas up, and the pulpit to the last was in mourning for George III…
Woodside Iron Works, was founded in 1840 by Alexander Brodie Cochrane and his son Charles Cochrane. It became very well known and respected and produced components for many significant structures, including girders for the Runcorn Bridge over the River Mersey and the Farringdon Street Viaduct in London; ironwork for the Rochester Road Bridge, the Swing Bridge over the River Medway and the Clifton Suspension Bridge; and a wrought iron bridge for New Street Railway Station in Birmingham
Now I recently paid for a license from Dudley Archives for the use of the engraving of the works shown in Figure 1 below, for use in a blog post and in a forthcoming article in the Blackcountryman based on that blog post. It is catalogued as Woodside Iron Works c 1860. In the blog post and article, I used it to illustrate accounts of the works found in my great grandfather’s diaries and did not discuss it to any extent. It really does however deserve somewhat greater consideration, and so in this post, I will consider it in somewhat greater detail.
Figure 1. Woodside Iron Works c1860
Major Features
So what does the engraving actually show? Figure 2 shows a comparison between the engraving and a map of Dudley from 1857. Note that north on the map is around 20 degrees clockwise from the map vertical axis. On both the engraving and the map, the main line of the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton Railway can be seen , with the engraving also showing a siding into the works. The Dudley Canal can be seen on both engraving and map (heading for Dudley Tunnel in the distance) with Lord Ward’s Pensnett Canal also visible, heading to a junction with the Dudley Canal just south of Dudley Tunnel. Two railway bridges, over the Pensnett Canal and a road are shown at A and B on both. In the distance can be seen the Netherton ridge and Netherton church. The likely vantage point from which the initial sketch for engraving was made is shown by the red circle on the map.
Figure 2. Comparison between the engraving anda map of 1857
Figure 3a shows a smaller scale version of the map of figure 2 so that the relationship can be seen between the Iron Works (and the vantage point from which it was sketched) and Netherton in the far distance on the engraving. Figure 3b shows an elevation profile along a line through the vantage point and Netherton church. It can be seen that there is an initials steep drop from the vantage point across the railway to the Iron Works, and the ground then remains fairly level until the steep slope up to the Netherton ridge is reached. Thus the view of the iron works shown on the engraving, with a perspective indicating that it was painted from an elevated position, is a real one.
(a)
(b) Figure 3. The Iron Works in the wider landscape.
The date of the engraving
The Archive catalogue gives the date of the engraving as c1860, but can a more precise date be determined? The Iron Works themselves had opened in the 1840s, but the main line of the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton Railway wasn’t opened intill November 1852, so that gives the earliest possible date for the engraving. The Brierley Hill Iron Works (D on the map of figure 2) was also operational from the 1840s, but oddly does not appear on the engraving. Or rather only the angular building that marks the northern edge of the works is shown. I am inclined to think that this was because whoever commissioned the engraving didn’t wish to show the works of a competitor and I suspect request that it be removed. Indeed the area D on the engraving is suspiciously level and without any features, which suggest that this might have been the results of a major edit.
Now, from Grace’s Guide we have a description of a report of an “Open Day” at the Iron Works where the proprietors Alexander Brodie Cochrane, and his son Charles Cochrane invited the local gentry and other local iron masters to look around the works (Worcestershire Chronicle, 2 April 1856) and indeed the guest list was very impressive. Was the engraving produced for this event, and perhaps given to those who attended? It would seem very appropriate for this to have been the case. It would also explain why the owners were keen for Brierley Hill Iron Works not to be shown.
The detail
Figure 4. The details of the Iron Works
Later Ordnance Survey Maps of the Iron Works (from the 1880s) enable some functions to be identified – the travelling cranes in the foreground of the engravings, the coke ovens and furnaces, and the engine house and chimney. The report of the 1856 event found in the Worcester Chronicle that has already been mentioned contains some information that helps to understand what the engraving shows. The relevant paragraphs are as follows.
The Oxford, Worcester, and Wolverhampton railway running for a considerable distance along the side these works, drops down into their midst the green sand for the moulds, the Staffordshire ironstone, the unctuous red haematite from Cumberland, the limestone for the flux, and the Derbyshire cokes. The coal is raised from pits upon the premises, and in very few hours the raw material thus handed on the one side may be smelted, converted into pigs, cast into pipes, proved by the hydraulic press, smoothed, cut, and drilled, by machines of singular ingenuity and power, and shipped at the other side of the works upon the canal, to be borne from canal to river, from river to sea, and so to the Antipodes, to minister to the wants of rich and populous Australian cities, which in the memory of the present generation, had no name, or to complete the civilisation of communities planted few years since in spots where forests grew, and New Zealand cannibals roamed. What an illustration of human progress!
Several of Messrs. Cochrane’s relations and friends were distinguished by a white ribbon in their buttonhole, and escorted the various visitors through the works, showing them every process of iron manufacture and founding. The grinding of the sand for moulds, the curious processes of making, baking, and smoothing those moulds, the powerful steam engine for supplying cold blast to the two melting furnaces, the hydraulic lift raising the ” burden ” or supply of food to these huge retorts, whose fires never cease to devour day or night; the other engines for working the beautiful machinery of the fitting-room, where iron is planed, and drilled, and cut, with the same nicety, and almost the same facility, as if it had been deal, were all inspected in turn.
From this information we can conclude that raw materials, other than coal, were brought into the works from the line of the OWWR that ran along its boundary, presumably around point A on figure 4. Coal was mined somewhere on the site itself – perhaps we can see the pit head mechanisms at B in the figure? (By the late 19th century these mines had clearly become exhausted and further mines opened to the west of the Dudley to Stourbridge Road, with the coal brought into the works by a cable operated incline). Iron was then produced in the two furnaces, and then used in a variety of manufacturing processes in the various buildings marked C, before being loaded onto barges on the canal (and also presumably onto railway trucks on the OWRR siding). The process of manufacture thus moved from left to right across the engraving (north to south in reality) as shown by the arrow. In the above report we read that the products of the works were
borne from canal to river, from river to sea
which suggests that they were moved west along the Dudley and Stourbridge Canals, to the Staffs and Worcs. canal at Stourton and thus to the Severn at Stourport, and onward to Bristol and the sea. Such a movement would have avoided the notoriously congested Dudley tunnel. It also gives a degree of confirmation of the date as being around 1856, as in 1858 the Netherton tunnel opened, which would have made travel to the east to Birmngham and London much easier and would have presented an attractive route for the products of the Iron Works.
In a recent post I have described the exhibition “A sermon in stone” at All Saints Oakham which features photographs of the 13th century nave arcade capitals. That exhibition builds on work set out in an earlier blog post. The carvings feature biblical, classical and folklore themes and between them appear to tell the salvation story from the fall of Adam and Eve to the resurrection of Jesus and beyond. In this post I include a photograph and brief discussion of a carving that didn’t feature in the exhibition, as it was felt to be too badly damaged.
Figure 1. Making faces and praying
Most of the carvings are around the capitals on the pillars in the nave arcade, but two are actually on the chancel arch at the same height as on the arcade. Both have been damaged at some point it the past by the installation of a rood screen. One of these features in the “Sermon in Stone” exhibition – that on the north side of the chancel arch of jesters making faces above the pulpit with a more serious praying figure looking into the chancel (figure 1). The other, on the south side, was thought at the time to be too damaged to include. However when a high resolution photograph was taken (by Richard Adams who took all the photos for the exhibition) it was found that there was considerable detail remaining – see figure 2, which shows a lion like figure, in an oak leaf surround.
The question then arises as to whether or not this carving has any meaning in the overall salvation theme of the carvings. It is clear from the overall arrangement that those carvings on the north side represent the dark side of salvation history – the fall, the devil, temptations to sin – and those on the south side the light side of redemption and restoration – the eucharist, angels and evangelists, the annunciation and crowning of the Virgin. The jester on the north side fits into this theme quite well, as displaying a range of unredeemed human qualities, and on this basis one would expect the figure on the south side to represent something more positive. Now in scripture, the symbolism of a lion is nearly always negative, as a creature that attacks and destroys, except in one place in the book of Revelation where Jesus is described as a lion of the tribe of Judah (Revelation 5.5).
Then one of the elders said to me, ‘Do not weep. See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals
So perhaps in this carving we perhaps see a representation of Jesus, identified as the Lion of Judah, sat on the throne of God in heaven. This would be appropriate in its position as next to the capital that shows the crowning of the Virgin and the Harrowing of Hell, which are also eschatological themes. But, as ever with these carvings, this identification must be quite speculative.
Of the internal fittings I have but little to say. They exceed in meanness even what is usual in country churches. And there must be but one opinion about them – they must entirely cleared away, and the whole refitted in proper manner with good oak seats
A few years earlier, Baron Stephen Glynne in his church notes had written in a similar, if somewhat milder, vein.
Altogether the interior is not so well kept as it deserves to be. The pews and galleries are shabby and the whole dirty and untidy.
In this short note we present some information contained in the history of the church in the Rutland County Magazine published in 1903 concerning the internal arrangement of the church before the 1858 restoration. In particular Figure 1 shows the arrangements of the pews as sketched by Rev. C. A. Stevens, superimposed on the ground plan of the church – the interior fittimgs so disparaged by Scott.
Figure 1. Box pew arrangements in All Saints church – from the Rutland County Magazine of 1903
For those who know the orderly front facing bench pews in All Saints today, the arrangement shown in the figure will appear very odd. Box pews (for which a rent would have been charged) fill the nave, extending into the Trinity chapel, the Chancel and the Lady Chapel and would have been occupied by the wealthier members of Oakham Society. The sides would have been 3 or 4 feet high and they would have afforded a degree of privacy. As an example of how they might have appeared, see the pictire of eighteenth century box pews from Inglesham church in Figure 2.
The lack of geometric regularity and uniformity in Figure 1 is clear, indicating that this arrangement developed over the years, as new pews were added and old ones removed or adapted. The hoi polloi would have been housed in the free sittings in the double deck gallery at the west end of the church.
The focus of the church was also very different from today. The red square gives the location of the pulpit, the clergy desk and the church clerk’s desk – which are in the centre of the nave, adjacent to the pillar with the Green Man capital. The pulpit is surrounded on all sides by pews, some of which, but by no means all, would have enabled worshippers to face the preacher and vice versa. Unfortunately no indication of how the chancel is laid out is given, but presumably the altar was at the east end as now.
The function of the pews and the names of those families that rented the pews are shown on the figure, but the writing is too small to easily read at the scale shown here. From west to east in the nave we have
In the north transept we have, again from west to east
Wellington; Vicar’s servants
These are presumably names of parishioner families. A final point of interest is the location of what is almost certainly the font, within the blue square. This stands in the middle of the central aisle at the west of church, which is in many ways much more liturgically sensible than its current position, tucked away amongst pews on the north side of the central aisle.
This post shows the poster boards that were produced for an exhibition at All Saints church in Oakham which opened in April 2026. The exhibition highlighted the elaborate stone carvings on the nave capitals in the church. The posters contained photos by Richard Adams, and text based on an earlier blog post by the author that can be found at The good, the bad and the grotesque – the decorated capitals of All Saints church in Oakham.
The posters
Note on Poster 6
In an earlier version of Poster 6, I queried what the third scene – the one that depicts Adam and Eve for asecond time, was meant to depict. This has also puzzled other writers in a range of church histories since the early 1900s. At the opening of the exhibition on April 18th, on viewing the large scale photo below, Prof Elizabeth Tingle, Professor Emerita at De Montfort University, made what I am sure is the correct identification. The scene represents the Harrowing of Hell, with Christ on the left holding the pennant or banner of the resurrection, leading Adam and Eve out of Hell, represented by the serpent at their feet. As such the three scenes are a representation of the Trinity – God the Father holding the orb as he crowns Mary, God the Holy Spirit coming to Mary in the Annunciation, and God the Son leading Adam and Eve out of hell between his death and resurrection. They thus form a fitting conclusion to the overall story of salvation shown on the Capitals.
The memorials of All Saints Oakham. Photographs and brief descriptions of the wall mounted memorials at All Saints church in Oakham (May 19th 2025)
From Oakham to Mandalay. The story of a young curate from Oakham and his brief service as a missionary in Burma before his early death (April 29th 2025)
Kinetic Water Power – some odd words on a memorial in All Saints Oakham led to some interesting findings about how church organs were powered at the start of the 20th century (25th April 2025)
All Saints Oakham – Gothic despoiled, restored and justified. A talk given at the conference “The Rev. Henry Alford, A.W.N. Pugin and the Restoration of St Mary’s Church, Wymeswold: ecclesiology & architecture in nineteenth-century Leicestershire”
Recently, whilst researching some aspects of the history of All Saints Church in Oakham, I found some really useful articles in the Rutland Magazine and County Historical Record from the early years of the 20th century. It seems that this magazine had only a limited life span, but the volumes that were published contain some interesting and in depth articles on aspects of Rutland history. As I was browsing the contents, I found, in the very first edition, an article by A J Waterfield of Stamford, in which he reviews a 1902 reprint of a 1763 book that sets out an alternative history of England, and in particular describes the reign of King George VI of Britain between 1900 and 1925. In reviewing the book, Mr Waterfield was delighted to find that it contains a description of King George’s new capital – the City of Stanley just south of Uppingham in Rutland! I shared his delight and enjoyment, so I thought I would share his article here. This is set out in the next section. This is followed by some further notes on the eventful reign of King George VI as foreseen from 1763, more on the city of Stanley, and a short discussion on the authorship of the original book.
The City of Stanley, Rutland by Mr A J Waterfield
Rutland Magazine and County Historical Record, 1, 34-36
Having got over the first flush of tempestuous joy, which followed the arrival of the prospectus of the Rutland Magazine, I am now able to read through the same in a spirit of almost judicial calm, in a manner dispassionate, and again with ‘ Pleasure at the helm.’ In the list of articles shown as intended for publication, I observe, that one of the many good things promised is styled, ” The Lost Villages of Rutland.” Now the purpose of my present endeavour is to set down a few rambling remarks respecting a City of Rutland which was never founded. It is just a hundred and forty years since there was issued anonymously—printed in London—a little book of about a hundred leaves, bearing title, “The Reign of George VI.” As the name barely affords a glimmer as to the drift of the work,
taken up at a what’s-to-come period, and begun at an era that will not begin these hundred years,
I may be allowed to use the words of the Editor of a reprint, sent out three years ago. Mr. Oman, the well-known author, and Fellow of All Souls’ College, Oxford, says :
The author was intending to influence the men of his own day, by pointing out, in the actions of his puppets what ought to be done and what avoided in the Year of Grace 1763.
The author himself, begins with a reference to Swift’s History of Captain Lemuel Gulliver [written 1726], and goes on to say,
The modesty which is ever the companion of true merit, would by no means admit your author to think of a parallel between this history and the travels of Captain Gulliver.
Briefly then, the volume, under present notice, is a forecast—the years of the ‘ action ‘ being 1900-1925,—and at this stage, that part of the subject concerning the nature and tendency of “The Reign of George VI” may be dismissed. The part played by the gallant little county which the Saxons called Roteland, will presently be discerned. Our author writes:
London, though the wonder of the world, never pleased the King. The meanness of his Majesty’s palace disgusted him; he had a taste for architecture, and determined to exert it in raising an edifice, that should at once do honour to his kingdom, and add splendour to his court.
In Rutlandshire, near Uppingham, was a small hunting box of the late King’s, which George admired ; not for the building, but its beautiful situation. Few parts of his dominions could afford a more desirable spot for such a purpose. The old seat stood on an elevated situation which commanded an extensive prospect over the adjacent country. It was almost surrounded with extensive woods ; which having been artfully planted, added the greatest beauty to the prospect, without intercepting the view. On one side there was an easy descent of about three miles, which led into an extensive plain, through which a river took its meandering course. Many villages seemed to rise here and there from out the woods, which gave a great variety to the scene, and the fertile plain was one continued prospect of villages, groves, meadows, and rivulets, and all was in the neighbourhood of a noble and capacious forest.
Stoke Dry, 2009 – WikipediaThe lcation of Stanley – Digimap
The landscape here described is that seen from Stoke Dry, the river the peaceful Welland, and the neighbouring forest, that of Rockingham. I remember reading, some years since, an ecstatic description of this quite charming spot, by an American visitor (perhaps Elihu Burritt, but I am not sure), whose opinion was that this viewpoint was one of the most delightful in the United Kingdom. Hereabout then, it is written, was begun, (one of several plans having been chosen), the building of a palace for his Majesty, to the exceeding wonder, no doubt, of the whole countryside. Toward the cost, a generous Parliament voted a first grant of a million sterling.
Nothing was spared to make this palace the wonder of the world,
and without touching details this bare statement is, in itself, quite sufficient to engage our interest, if not wonderment. Then followed, through the accident of an afterthought, the raising of some public edifices, Saint Stephen’s church and the Academy of Architecture being the first two ; of the latter, Gilbert, the King’s architect, was the first President. Later,
most of the nobility and many of the rich commoners, in imitation of their sovereign, erected magnificent palaces at Stanley,
by which name the fast uprising city became known.
What gave a prodigious increase to this noble city was the erection of the Senate House : that noble building . . . . the admiration of all Europe.
To hark back a little, I should before have mentioned that, by Act of Parliament, the Welland was made navigable
to the very plain at the bottom of the hill
on which the city was growing, for the purpose of the conveyance of the material required. Portland stone only was used, and
” the houses were all built to form one general front on each side of every street,”
a regularity which might very easily have proved wearisome. An Academy of Painting was formed, on a grand scale, and about the same time the King’s palace was finished, eight years after its commencement. We read that the shell of the building alone cost eight millions sterling, and that the Spanish Escurial and Versailles were each
infinitely exceeded by Stanley
More than a dozen pages of the book are given up to the description of the city of Stanley to name the wonders and outstanding features of which would be, as it were, to compile a catalogue. By the year 1921, it is written, Stanley possessed a Cathedral which
in architecture, grandeur and extent far exceeded Saint Peters’ at Rome,
while the gardens of the King’s palace were become an eighth wonder in the land. The city had grown to be four miles square ; it had its University,
and was evidently become the metropolis of the three, or rather, four kingdoms.
And here we must take our leave of the amazing City of Stanley, Rutland, having in no appreciable degree exhausted the written account of its glories.
As a pendant to the foregoing, I proceed to add that, in regard to the authorship of “George VI” Mr. Oman, in his Editorial preface, invited information. I sought the aid of Mr. Joseph Phillips, F.S.A., that Admirable Crichton in everything relating to the history and records of Stamford and the district around. One learned that the author was the Rev. William Hanbury, an eighteenth century Rector of Church Langton, Leicestershire, an account of whose by no means Lilliputian achievements, not less than his gigantic (Brobdingnagian is quite too unwieldy) schemes form a really remarkable chapter, in what may be termed local history. Then some pleasant correspondence with Mr. Oman, to whom was given (as a matter of course), the name of my informant, the sterling gentleman whose recent death we all deplore.
Palace of VersailleThe EscurialSt Peter’s Rome
King George VI
“The reign of George VI” was written in 1763, three years into the reign of the real George III. In the alternate history he is followed by George IV, George V. George VI then came to the throne in 1900. This suggests long reigns for the first three of these Georges, implying either that at least one of them fathered a child in his old age, or they were not necessarily all fathers and sons. By 1900, when George VI came to the throne, Britain was faced with an aggressive, expansionist Russian Empire that had taken over much of northern Europe. In the first year of his reign, the Russians invaded Britain, engaging in major land and sea battles. The nature of warfare was very much that of the 18th century – based on infantry and cavalry, with the leaders of the army being Earls and Dukes. Parliament refused at first to sanction money for the nation’s defence, partly because the Czar
had conveyed immense sums into England, and had most politically distributed them to the most advantageous purposes
but under pressure from the mob, parliament
they now offered to address his Majesty to take the state under his protection,
which in effect meant royal control over the exchequer, with which he properly equipped the army. The Russians were defeated at Wetherby under the field leadership of the king. The description given of the battle would not out of place in War and Peace. But this was not the end, and ongoing skirmishes with France tipped over into full scale warfare, with the army and the navy of the French king being supplemented by the remains of the Russian forces. George then led a small army into Flanders and northern France and forced the French into submission and a peace treaty was signed. The ensuring peace, in 1903, enabled George to turn to more peaceful interests in building up his country, and in particular in the building of his city of Stanley. The peace lasted until 1917, when the Russians attacked the German Empire, assisted, naturally enough, by the French. George took his army to assist Germany, and helped fight of the Russians, and defeat the French armies. In 1919 he entered Paris in triumph. Europe by this time was in a state of political and economic confusion, and George fought minor skirmishes and military actions throughout the next year, to subdue the Spanish in particular. The American colonists, still loyal to the crown, played their part in the defeat and overrunning of Mexico. It culminated with a victorious George being crowned King of France in 1920.
Entertaining as all of this alternative history is, it is of course, simply a reflection of the period in which it was written and of the concerns of that time. The armies were those of the 18th century, the countries and empires that threatened George were similarly those of that period. Monarchs and aristocracies still ruled and the French and American revolutions hadn’t happened. The huge changes brought about by the Industrial Revolution simply weren’t foreseen. The editor of the revised edition, Charles Oman has much more to say in his preface about the nature of the book’s predictions and how they relate to the politics of the original author’s own day.
The City of Stanley
As noted by Mr. Waterfield, he only gives the briefest of accounts of the City of Stanley, and the book contains much more information than that which he included. Rather than trying to summarise it, I have extracted the Stanley material and this can be accessed through the button below.
But here I would make one or two further points. Firstly, I presume the name of the city comes from the Stanleys who were of course the Earls of Derby and very prominent in politics and intrigue for many centuries before the book was written, But as far as I can see, the choice of name is not made explicit anywhere. I fear that I struggle to take the name seriously, Stanley being forever associated in my mind with Stanley Unwin, Stanly Baxter and Stan(ley) Laurel. But that is my problem.
Secondly it is clear that, as with the political situation that is supposed, in architectural and planning terms, the author is reflecting his own time, and the city he envisages is essentially Georgian. I find it has a slightly nightmarish quality to it – grand, but rather soulless buildings, with no indication of commercial or domestic life. Indeed one wonders where all those who will provide for the aristocratic occupants of Stanley will live and where its food will come from – cities do not exists in a vacuum. At the very least the surrounding areas of Rutland would have been wholly changed in nature.
Similarly there is nothing about transport. One might have expected something about a grand road connecting Stanley with London – the author must have surely been aware of John Ogilby’s Britannia from 1675, which showed strip maps starting in London (see the map for our area to the left). Two years before the book was written, in 1761, the Bridgewater canal had been opened in the northwest and was seen as a major technological achievement. That is perhaps reflected in the mention of the canalisation of the Welland. Elsewhere in the book, where King George’s munificence to the general population is described, it is stated that canals connected every city in the realm – more or less the only transportation development that is described.
The City of Stanley – from Gemeni 2 AI
Who was the author?
Charles Oman, the editor of the reprint of 1902, was of the view that the author of “The reign of George VI” was clearly local to Rutland, because of his knowledge of the topography on which Stanley was built, and it is hard ot disagree with that. There are a couple of other indications pointing in that direction. Firstly, the canalisation of the Welland had been achieved in some fashion 100 years before in 1670 by the building of the Stamford Canal from Market Deeping to Stamford bypassing a stretch of the Welland that was used by mills and was not navigable. This predated the building of the first modern canal (the Bridgwater mentioned above) by 100 years and contributed greatly to the commercial success of Stamford. It is plausible to suppose that the author was aware of this attempt to make the Welland navigable in the development of his ideas.
The second point also relates to Stamford. Stanley is said to have 25 parish churches. In this of course, it resembles London, but Stamford also had a multiplicity of small parishes and their churches within the town. Again, this was an idea on which the author might have drawn.
As can be seen from Mr Waterfield’s article, he identified the author as the Rev. William Hanbury, Rector of Church Langton in Leicestershire (1725-1778), and he was certainly an interesting character – a clergyman, garden and plantation creator, music festival organiser and philanthropist. But there seems to be little indication that he authored books and pamphlets such as the Reign of King George VI. Neither was he particularly local to Rutland.
On the edition of the book on Google Books, there is a note “Maddon?” which seems to refer to the Irish author Rev. Samuel Maddon (1686-1765). One of Maddon’s early works, from 1733, was what has been described as the first science fiction book “Memoirs of the 20th century” which included the first recorded depiction of time travel and consisted of diplomatic letters from between 1997 and 1999 in the reign of King George VI. The political situation depicted is however very much of his own time, with international relations mirroring those of 1733. The parallels are obvious, but there is no indication that Maddon was familiar with Rutland, and it may be that his book simply served as the inspiration for “The Reign of King George VI”.
To my mind, neither Hanbury or Maddon has a convincing case for being the author of the work considered here. I would look for somebody who lived in the Rutland / Stamford area, but as to who that might be I have no idea at all.
The painting of the Holy Family shown below has hung in the Vicar’s Vestry at All Saints church in Oakham for many years, and has, until recently, never been properly identified. Recent expert advice suggests it is a late 18th / early 19th century copy of a composition by Francesco Albani of between 1608 and 1610. It is believed that it was produced by a workshop in Italy, or perhaps the Netherlands, to satisfy the demands of those on the “Grand Tour” for devotional works. Whilst thus not of any great value, it thus does have an interesting back story.
After a composition by Francesco Albani, paint on metal, late 17th / early 18th century
It’s detailed provenance is not known, but a difficult to read caption on the painting frame (below) has the inscription
“Presented to Oakham Church in memory of Harry Ellingworth”.
The Ellingworth family were prosperous shopkeepers in Oakham in the late 19th and early 20th century, and a number of them were named Harry. The most significant of these seems to have been a Harry Ellingworth who was a Town Crier in Oakham in 1881.
Painting in frame (with window reflections)
Dedication label
Interestingly a number of similar copies of the painting can be traced – either painted in Albani’s workshop or elsewhere (see below). The details vary, but the basic composition is the same. The market for such paintings was clearly buoyant.
Print of the original by Francesco Albani housed in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. 1608-1610
Dulwich Art Gallery Holy Family by Studio of Francesco Albani 1610-60
The painting shows a somewhat weary and pensive looking Madonna in a red dress with a dark blue shawl, The Christ child sits on a golden cushion on her lap, partly surrounded by a blue sheet. Joseph looks on from the right, with an open book in front of him, that seems to be placed on a stone chest or altar or perhaps a tomb. It may be that the directions in which the Madonna and her husband are pointing is of some iconographic significance – Joseph, in his contemplation of scripture pointing upwards to God, and Mary, with the Christ child on her lap, pointing down to earth, the direction, if that is an appropriate word, of the incarnation. Two angelic figures look on from the left. There is a figure carved on the stone chest, that, from the original, appears to be some sort of Bachannalia, with wine being poured out for small dancing child like figures. Again there may be some iconographic significance here with a representation of Christ’s blood being poured out at the Eucharist. The mixture of biblical and classical themese seems to have been common at the period of the original composition.
Engineering, history and ecclesiology 
