Fact 227: Nazareth House the Bristol Orphanage
IT'S been 30 years since the old Catholic orphanage for boys in Sneyd Park closed its doors, but we have recently had quite a few enquiries from readers concerning the fate of the house, boys and staff. Old Sneed Park House, the name by which the house was known for hundreds of years before it became Nazareth House orphanage, dated back to 1691, and was one of the very few properties to be built in what was once a very lonely area, beyond the Downs. The then owners, the Jackson family, extended and altered the house over the next 100 years until 1811, when the last of the family died.
In 1853, the Martin family owned the estate, and they managed to get permission to break it up. Many new houses were then built overlooking the Avon Gorge and fronting the Downs. The Sneyd Park area stayed outside Bristol's planning controls until 1894. Sir George White, the industrialist, who founded the Bristol Aeroplane Company and started the city's trams, lived in the house until his death in 1916, and it was some years later, in 1923, that the estate of 130 acres was put up for sale. After the end of the First World War in 1918, many large mansions were deserted by big families and their armies of servants and a lot would have become derelict had not new uses been found for them.
Some became schools but Old Sneed Park House became an orphanage. The home was started in 1924 by seven nuns who dressed in the soon to become familiar black and blue habit of the Sisters of Nazareth. They had come originally from Cheltenham and at first just 70 boys of all ages were looked after, but this figure later rose to over 100. In 1932 all but 32 acres of the original 130 were sold off for an exclusive estate where well-off families could enjoy 'country air, channel breezes and beautiful views' and money generated went back into the orphanage's upkeep. In 1954 the Bristol Evening Post wrote 'Here, amid delightful country surroundings, the children are housed and educated until they reach the age of 14, when jobs are found for them.
'Some of the old boys have served with distinction in the wars, others have secured good jobs locally through the co-operation of Bristol firms. Some have emigrated and settled in other lands. 'Over 50 babies under five years occupy the spacious nursery. It is bright and spotless with cots and cradles as well as a playroom well stacked with toys given by kind friends. 'Toddlers over two attend a nursery school in the home, and the older boys go daily to schools in the city.
'Some of the children are visited by relatives or friends, but many are entirely alone in the world. 'All have been deprived of the normal home life and security which mean so much to children. 'The sisters devote their life's work to the care of these little ones, trying as far as it is possible to make it up to them for what they are losing in not being members of a real family!'
In November 1970 the nuns decided to close the home, and it was put up for sale. Although efforts were made to save older, historic parts of the house, a devastating roof fire in 1972 finished off the old place for good and it was then completely demolished. Glenavon Park Flats and a housing development now stand on the site and all that remains of the old house are parts of an old walk surrounding the kitchen gardens. The boys were moved to other Nazareth homes around the country or to homes in Bristol, and the community scattered. All the nuns took with them was their altar, church benches and a stained glass window from the front entrance.
Fact 228: The princess who lived in Clifton's Royal York Crescent?
She was Eugenie Montijo, and she arrived in Clifton with her sister Pala in 1837. They were the daughters of a Spanish nobleman and had come to England to 'finish' their education. Also at the school was an Indian princess and, becoming friends, they made plans to run away from not only the discipline, but also the awful English weather. One day they managed to slip away to the docks, found a vessel bound for India and stowed away. But someone had been spying on them and soon the headmistress arrived to march them back to Clifton in tears.
Soon after Eugenie and Pala were sent to Paris and here Eugenie met Louis Napolean, soon to become Emperor of France. They married in 1853 and she became Empress of France. After the Franco Prussian war (1870-1) the family were exiled in England. Eugenie died, aged 94, in 1920.
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Fact 229: Haunting at the old Lamb Inn in Old Market
IN 1761 there were supernatural disturbances recorded at the now long since demolished Lamb Inn, Old Market, of such severity that they are still discussed to day. They concerned the landlord Richard Giles and his wife, and their two children Molly, aged 13, and Dobby, aged eight. These girls were tormented night after night by something or someone biting them on their arms and necks and pricking them with pins. Whatever it was also threw the furniture about! We know a great deal about this 'haunting', if that is what it was, because Henry Durbin, a Redcliffe Street druggist investigated the happenings and wrote about them in detail. He said that he had also seen wine glasses rising into the air on their own and then flinging themselves at the girls' nurse.
In addition Molly's cap flew four feet off her head and then landed on the floor. He had also heard something beating time, like a drummer, on the bedposts. And so it went on. Durbin was convinced that he was in the presence of evil but decided to communicate with 'it' by a system of knocks (For 'Yes', one knock, for 'No', two knocks, etc). This seemed to work. Richard Giles, however, was convinced that the evil had been instigated by an old Mangotsfield witch who he heard had been paid ten guineas to put an end to his new business as a carrier by a rival.
He was sure that this was the reason that his wagons were continually getting stuck in the road without good reason! One time his journey from Old Market to Bath took 16 hours.
Mr Durbin continued his investigations at The Lamb, calling in several eminent clergymen to witness events. These men questioned the spirit in Greek, Hebrew and Latin, but still only managed to get answers via the 'knock' system of communication! But the manifestations continued. The children were often flung out of bed by the 'evil spirit' and it said that three strong men could not stop the girls from being pushed onto the floor, or carried up to the ceiling. Pins were also thrown about the room.
Several months later one of Giles's wagons broke down yet again, at a spot where an old witch woman was seen, and a harness gave way. Four days later the landlord mysteriously died, convinced that witchcraft was the cause. Mrs Giles, now a widow, also thought witchcraft was to blame and decided to call on the old 'white' witch of Bedminster. This witch seemed to know all about their problems and told them of the remedy. Unfortunately, we will never know what this was, but all 'poltergeist' activity suddenly ceased, just as it did whenever the girls were separated!
This what we now call classic 'poltergeist' activity, especially involving young girls, but could it have been witchcraft after all. Or was it just a put-up job to bring down the price of the pub - later bought by Giles' mother-in-law for a bargain? I don't think we'll ever know.
Fact 230: Dramatic ending of the popular Princes'Theatre
The dramatic story of the popular Princes'Theatre in Park Row - WHEN the doors of Bristol's biggest theatre opened in 1869 the huge crowd waiting for pantomime tickets surged forward. Within minutes, 14 of them lay dead and nearly 30 others were hurt. Yet, incredibly, the queuing system was not introduced to Bristol until nearly 20 years later. The tragedy happened at the Prince's Theatre, in Park Row, for half-a-century Bristol's unchallenged premier venue. It was designed by C J Phipps, who also built Bath's Theatre Royal, and cost a what was then an incredible £20,000. For that, owner James Henry Chute was given a 107-foot long stage and an extraordinary interior in which the gallery and proscenium arch formed a perfect circle. Although some seats had an imperfect view of the stage, this did not seem to matter particularly; it was a theatre to be seen in as much as to see in.'
The theatre which could hold 2,800 people (a thousand more than the Hippodrome, which was built in 1912) was originally called the New Theatre Royal. It changed its name in 1884 to avoid confusion with the disreputable Old Gaff in King Street, a theatre to which no gentleman could take his family.
The Chute family dominated the history of the Prince's - indeed of local theatre, for James Henry was also leasee of the Theatre Royals of Bristol and Bath.
He was married to the half-sister of the famed Macready and this link with the past remained until the thirties, when the last Chute family link was broken. Those who remember the Prince's recall the pantos most of all. They were already popular enough in 1869 to cause the never-forgotten tragedy and, by 1899, the ever-critical George Bernard Shaw was moved to comment: 'I told Mr Macready Chute, the manager that he should come to London to learn from our famous stage managers here how to spend ten times as much money on a pantomime for one-tenth of the artistic return.'
He added, rather cynically: 'What a privilege it is to live in a convenient arts centre like London where the nearest pantomime is at Bristol and the nearest opera at Bayreuth.' But, as always, the story of a theatre is really about people. All the stars of the Victorian and Edwardian era played there and the list is impressive. Dame Clara Butt, Henry Irving, Herbert Beerbohm Tree, Gerald du Maurier, Ellen Terry, Sarah Bernhardt, Lillie Langtry and Pavlova are probably the best known.
All the famous - if not always great - plays were staged there - but one backstage character, was commemorated in a very unexpected way. Designer Mark Barraud, a practical joker who sent visitors to catch trout at Fishponds, had a dog called Nipper who went everywhere with him. When Barraud, a very skilled craftsman, died at an early age, his brother painted Nipper listening to Barraud's voice on a wax cylinder record. That painting became the famous trademark ofthe His Master's Voice record company.
The Prince's went through a number of alterations. By 1902, it was the best in the provinces, but with seating capacity reduced to around that of the modern Hippodrome. But in 1912, the Hippodrome started competing with good-class variety. The Coliseum, opposite the Prince's offered the new craze, roller-skating, and the Little, from 1923, provided straight theatre, The arrival of talking pictures, and the end of the Chute family influence, led to a sad decline.
The Prince's was reprieved temporarily when the London theatres closed at the beginning of the Second World War and London stars were sent on tour. Marie Tempest, Robert Donat, Rob Wilton, Yvonne Arnaud, Alistair Sim, Ivor Novello, Jack Buchanan - it was a return to the golden age. Then on November 24, 1940, Bristol was hit by one of the worst blitzes of the war. It left the Prince's in ruins. The declining Theatre Royal was revived. Eventually, two blocks of flats were built on the land called Irving House and Terry House in memory of two of the Prince's stars.
