Fred Elwell A Life by Jennie Hart

Fred Elwell - A Self Portrait

 Inspiration from Anna of the Five Towns by Arnold Bennett.

3^rd chapter, 3^rd page, 3^rd line

When he had arranged the correspondence in a flattened pile, he put on his steel-rimmed spectacles and began to read:

He was squinting through a smudge on his left lens, so took off the specs, polished them on his tee shirt and placed them back on his nose. He didn’t know how they got in that state. He was proud of the steel rims and liked the way they framed his eyes. He felt he looked just like an old photo he had of his grandad.  

It was unusual to be reading from a pile of paper and not from a file on screen but Jo concentrated on the two letters before him. He had recently bought an interesting painting by the now deceased artist Fred Elwell and the website had linked him to the vendor Mr Oswald Hamilton. Jo’s grandad had died a few months ago and had left him a small legacy. Jo wanted a memento to mark his grandad’s leaving and a Fred Elwell painting was very suitable; Grandad Withell was proud of having once shook hands with the artist. Jo assumed Mr Hamilton was elderly because his communications had been by post, a factual document the first day with details relating to the painting, and a day or two later, a carefully hand-written letter requesting Jo collect the picture.

It was a coincidence that Mr Oswald Hamilton lived in the East Yorkshire village of Goodmanham where Jo’s grandmother was born. Jo lived in East Yorkshire too and he grew up in Beverley but moved to Flamborough on the North Sea coast in his teens. Fred Elwell had also lived in Beverley and Jo’s affection for the artist began when he was a pupil at Beverley Grammar School.

The art master had been an enthusiastic admirer of this artist and informed the class that Master Elwell was once a pupil at their school and all students were urged to visit the local art gallery to view his paintings. Jo remembered his first impression of the beautifully executed pictures; he had looked with wonder at the portraits of local people, the familiar landscapes captured in delicate watercolour and the charmingly painted streets of the Beverley he knew so well. Jo spotted the painting for sale in the local paper so with Grandad Withell’s money, he put in a bid to the Beverley auctioneer and was surprised and thrilled to be successful.

Jo considered replying by letter but decided to phone. A voice with a strong East Riding lilt answered the call and Jo was pleased to find he was speaking directly to Oswald Hamilton; he had fully expected the intervention of a secretary. ‘Good day to you sir, y’r picture is ready and waiting. I ‘aven’t wrapped it because I know you’ll want to have a good look at it before tekking it ‘ome. I know y’ve paid but that means nowt if ye doesn’t like it.’ Jo assured Mr Hamilton he couldn’t wait to have it and they both agreed he should go over the next day to collect it.

Jo drove up a grassy cart track to a small farmhouse, pleasant but in need of some attention. He knocked, then opened the sturdy door after a distant voice called, ‘Come in.’ He made his way along a flag- stoned hallway to find Mr Hamilton seated in a worn old armchair in a small dusty room enhanced by bright morning light. This light, Jo noticed, also enhanced the dust. The heavy interwar furniture made it difficult to cross the room and an array of pictures, big and small clothed the sitting room walls and added to the feeling the room was crowded.

Mr Hamilton also had a dusty look, but that description only applied to his clothing. His face was positively shining and his eyes bright and scrutinising. He looked Jo up and down, then gave a cheerful smile and said, ’Sit down lad, am pleased to meet ye, ye look as lively as a cricket’.

Oswald explained that he was not in the habit of selling his paintings; he treasured them all, but money was tight and he wanted to give his granddaughter a bit of a ’step up’. He was selling a few and this one was the least valuable of his Fred Elwell collection, ‘But that doesn’t mean it’s not a good’n. It’s a picture of the Beverley bar you know, Fred and Mary lived there; aye, I went in there once.’ Jo liked Oswald’s friendly, welcoming manner; he seemed easy to get on with. Jo had a little knowledge of Fred Elwell already, so related to Oswald how he became fascinated with the Elwells. In his student days in Birmingham, he’d had good friend from Wednesbury in the West Midlands. He had told Jo of a family of iron merchants there called Elwell and who had owned a forge for several hundred years making anything from nails to stirrups and tools. Elwell was an unusual name, so Jo went on-line and discovered a link between the Wednesbury Elwells and the Beverley Elwells.

In Tudor times, he found out, the iron-working Elwells were very prosperous around Wednesbury and a master craftsman sword-maker called Richard Elwell, was appointed to provide weapons for Henry the eighth. In this illustrious position, he was given the title ’Swyrd’. By the eighteenth century the Elwells were famous in this area for their ironwork. This part of the West Midlands became known as the ‘Black Country’ because of the belching smoke from chimneys, heat from smelters and the dire conditions under which the workers toiled.

Investigating the eighteenth and nineteenth century, Jo discovered the Elwells continued to flourish and another Elwell called Edward Elwell, made a fortune selling tools to the Southern States during the American Civil War. Jo read that a current living member of the Elwell family, on a recent visit to North America, found an axe head from the Civil War period, stamped with the name ‘Elwell.

I have more to tell you Mr Hamilton, I hope you’re not bored?’

‘Go on me lad, I’m all ears but I’ll bore you with my bit when you’ve ‘ad your say.’

Jo continued. ‘A breakaway movement began when a descendant of the ‘Swyrd’ to Henry the Eighth decided he wanted to escape the grime of Wednesbury and become a miller. He had received a cornmill in his new wife’s dowry but after a family feud, he lost the mill and the wife, so returned to his old iron-working trade. He joined a construction firm building railways and worked on building the East Yorkshire Hull to Bridlington line. I believe that’s how the East Yorkshire Elwells began, Mr Hamilton.’

 

‘Call me Oswald, lad,’ the old man said, ‘And settle down because I’ve things to tell you, Now I’ve already ‘eard a bit about what you’ve bin telling me but my story goes a lot further back. I’ll start by sayin’ I’m a relative of Fred Elwell on his mother’s side, not close mind, but there you are, I’m a descendant.’  Mr Hamilton proceeded to tell his story:

‘Being a Yorkshire lad, you’ll know that far back in history, there were Viking attacks on our North sea coast, mostly on Flamborough. Ye know Flamborough? It’s on that bit of coast near Bridlington’

‘Course I do Mr Hamilton; I live in Flamborough and we’ve got Danes Dyke nearby; that was where the Vikings landed.’

‘Good, well I’ve read up a bit about them Viking attacks, and research into the Elwells uncovered a Viking raider called Yffe who was one of the first Vikings to come to Britain. Yffe’s son was King Aelle and the Elwells are said to be descended from this King. Later on, Aelle became Elwell. Ye see, ordinary folk didn’t write things down, they passed on names in folk tales and songs and spellings were all over the place.’

‘I’ve learned a bit more about King Aelle. He settled north of the River ‘umber, ye know, where we are today and he had a son Edwin and a daughter whose name I don’t know. When Edwin was a little lad, his family took ‘im to safety in Mercia or Middle England because a warrior called Aethelric marched from the north and took over Aelle’s land. This might explain how there ‘appens to be a Black Country branch of the family. Aethelric the invader married Aelle’s daughter; invaders do that you know. Years later, Aethelric  died and the sister called Edwin back to our East Riding to rule. This all ‘appened a long time ago in the sixth or seventh century but at that time, the East Riding and the Yorkshire Wolds were called Deira. Deira’s the land north of the ‘umber. Aye Jo, we live in Deira and isn’t it a beautiful place, it’s that fertile; we can grow anything. I ‘ad a reet good farm ‘ere once ye know.’

‘And I’ve summat else to tell ye Jo, I was on that dig near Goodmanham, Cottam it was, where they found all those artifacts telling of our East Riding history; brooches, pins and a good deal of metalwork. ‘Ave you ‘eard about that?  I’ve been a bit of an amateur sleuth in my time; even found a brooch and a few other bits of metal ‘ere on my farm.’ Oswald Hamilton’s voice became distant and his bright eyes stared vacantly.

 ‘Probably thinking about past times,’ thought Jo. He sat quietly and gazed around the room; there was so much to look at. Paintings were crowded on faded wallpaper and he noticed numerous metal artifacts on a sideboard and dresser. He still hadn’t seen his new purchase but would wait till Mr Hamilton recovered from his reverie.

 A female voice called ‘Grandad’, and Oswald woke from his reminiscing. ‘Sonya, my Sonya; that’ll be her checking up on ‘er old grandpop. Come in love, ‘ave bin waiting for ye; come and meet Jo.’

Jo looked towards the low farmhouse doorway as a slim young woman bent her head forward to enter the sitting room. Sonya, the name rang a bell; it wasn’t a common name. He had known a girl called Sonya from Beverley, but after he and his family moved to Flamborough, Jo lost touch with Beverley friends. He recognised Sonya immediately with her big smile, soft dark hair and pale skin and after a second or two, her name came back to him; Sonya Hamilton. He smiled warmly but didn’t need to introduce himself because Sonya smiled too and gave a slight gasp. ’Why I remember you; from Beverley!  it must be at least ten years ago. It's Jo isn’t it?’

Jo felt a flush of embarrassment as he thought back to those school days; a group of friends from school and from the girls’ high school used to meet in the coffee bar then go to the park. He’d had a crush on Sonya but it never came to anything because he’d left Beverley and never saw her again. Also he’d only been fifteen.

‘Well, ye know each other do ye?’ said Oswald ‘That’s a coincidence but a good one, you’ll be glad to know Sonya, Jo, she’s a bright lass and up to all sorts of interesting things. Go on Sonya, tell Jo what you’re occupied with’.

‘Grandad, Jo won’t be interested in what I’m doing. Besides, how do you know my grandad Jo? I’ve not seen you here before; I didn’t know you knew any younger people grandad.’

Jo explained the reason for his visit and the fascinating stories Oswald had told him of the ancestry of his favourite artist. Sonya of course knew of her grandad’s obsession with Fred Elwell and his Viking heritage and that prompted her to tell Jo of her current project. Sonya worked for the East Riding of Yorkshire Council, nationally famous for its archaeological finds, and funding was put aside every year for more research into the past. 

‘I’ve been updating the cataloguing of the East Yorkshire finds because new discoveries keep being made. The artifacts are mostly in the British Museum and the work is quite boring, but I have a hobby which I enjoy much more. I volunteer with some local amateurs who have permission to investigate the archaeological sites, under the supervision of a professional.’

Jo remembered how much he had liked Sonya and realised he was beginning to like her all over again. Oswald, with Sonya’s help, extricated himself from his chair and negotiated his way across the crowded room. He ferreted about in the corner by the window and from a number of pictures propped against the wall, produced a small painting which he carefully carried over to where they were sitting. Jo admired the painting and Oswald took it to his kitchen to wrap. Jo and Sonya began to reminisce about school days, laughing as they recalled the silly things they got up to. It was Sonya who had taken Jo to the art gallery to see Fred Elwell’s paintings. She knew of Fred Elwell because of her grandad’s interest. Jo told Sonya how her grandad’s knowledge of the history of the area had given him the enthusiasm to know much more.

When Sonya asked Jo if he would like to join her in her own personal dig on a friend’s farm, he said he couldn’t wait. She explained that her own fascination for history was because of being brought up in Goodmanham. Many Bronze Age barrows had been discovered there and also the site of a Romano- British town called Delgovitia.  ‘Delgovitia means ‘out of the way place’ or ‘backwater’,’ Sonya explained. ‘Pagan worship was also known to have taken place in Goodmanham and the All Hallows church stands on the site of a pagan shrine.’

Sonya told of her friend Phoebe whose family owned a farm in Wetwang nearby. This was a famous farm in archaeological terms because a 400 BC chariot had been unearthed there, which was now in the British Museum. She and Phoebe were doing their own personal dig but following all the strict rules learnt by Sonya during her training with the volunteers. Sonya and Phoebe’s dig was a secret and they were hoping to make a unique find.

‘You can join us if you want Jo, another pair of hands would be useful as the objects we are sure are buried in the area we are searching, are fairly deep down and it’s painstakingly slow work to unearth them. If we do make a find we shall of course hand it over to the group, but as it’s Phoebe’s family farm, we thought it would be special if we were the first to make a find in this new dig’

Oswald Hamilton returned to the sunny room with Jo’s parcel and chuckled to himself to see the two young ones were getting on so well.

‘I’m going to join Sonya on a dig Mr Hamilton and I’m that excited. Maybe when we ‘ve finished on the Wetwang farm, we can come and do a dig on yours. One day your farm might be famous too!’

‘That would be very nice indeed, just as long as you promise that you’ll ‘andle the fame! Now Sonya, why don’t you make us all a nice cup of tea and then after that Jo can go ‘ome and enjoy ‘is Fred Elwell.’

‘Thank you Mr Hamilton but I am quite enjoying myself here; there’s definitely no rush!’

To be continued……….