Infamous Sons & Daughters of Leeds

[Trojan]

simong wrote: Steve Jones wrote: I notice from the map of BNP members at the Wikileaks site that Leeds has the highest proportion of anywhere!Don't know whether this counts as infamous or not? The map in the Guardian this morning said that 90 were in Morley and Rothwell constituency. http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2008 ... -yorkshire

[simong]

sundowner wrote: Just a thought if there were no fanatics would there still be a B N P ? Probably. There has been a far right wing party in the UK since the term was invented - Mosley's British Union of Fascists in the 30s, the National Front in the 60s and 70s, and the BNP now. They gain popularity when a section of the public starts to believe that the mainstream parties aren't doing anything for them, as was the case under Wilson and Callaghan in the 70s and Blair and Brown now. The BNP is clever in that it concentrates on local issues and picks up support in that way but it rarely manages to extend its support on the national stage. I've been reading up on them this week as you might imagine.

[Trojan]

simong wrote: sundowner wrote: Just a thought if there were no fanatics would there still be a B N P ? Probably. There has been a far right wing party in the UK since the term was invented - Mosley's British Union of Fascists in the 30s, the National Front in the 60s and 70s, and the BNP now. They gain popularity when a section of the public starts to believe that the mainstream parties aren't doing anything for them, as was the case under Wilson and Callaghan in the 70s and Blair and Brown now. The BNP is clever in that it concentrates on local issues and picks up support in that way but it rarely manages to extend its support on the national stage. I've been reading up on them this week as you might imagine. They seem to come to the fore when we have a left wing (???)government and then recede when the Tories get back in. Those who believe in conspiracies may think this is not actually a co-indience and that someone with something to gain from the discomfiture of Labour is assisting them.    

[simong]

Trojan wrote: They seem to come to the fore when we have a left wing (???)government and then recede when the Tories get back in. Those who believe in conspiracies may think this is not actually a co-indience and that someone with something to gain from the discomfiture of Labour is assisting them.     I wouldn't say it's a conspiracy. The last Conservative government took a lot of the reason for the BNP away by becoming attractive to people who would have otherwise turned to it. The BNP will have benefitted from the current government because there are people who believe that Labour in power doesn't represent them for various reasons. If the current Conservative Party becomes the government at the next election on its current platform, the BNP may maintain its membership because the old right wing of the Conservatives has got old or gone elsewhere.

[Trojan]

simong wrote: Trojan wrote: They seem to come to the fore when we have a left wing (???)government and then recede when the Tories get back in. Those who believe in conspiracies may think this is not actually a co-indience and that someone with something to gain from the discomfiture of Labour is assisting them.     I wouldn't say it's a conspiracy. The last Conservative government took a lot of the reason for the BNP away by becoming attractive to people who would have otherwise turned to it. The BNP will have benefitted from the current government because there are people who believe that Labour in power doesn't represent them for various reasons. If the current Conservative Party becomes the government at the next election on its current platform, the BNP may maintain its membership because the old right wing of the Conservatives has got old or gone elsewhere. Well you may be right. But I was told that much of the spade work that made the fuel protests of 2000 so effective was done by ex Tory MP's who'd lost their seat in 1997. What's to say the same isn't true about the BNP?

[simong]

Trojan wrote: Well you may be right. But I was told that much of the spade work that made the fuel protests of 2000 so effective was done by ex Tory MP's who'd lost their seat in 1997. What's to say the same isn't true about the BNP? I've never heard of any ex-Conservative MPs openly transferring to the BNP. Some of the Euro sceptics certainly advised UKIP in some quiet ways though.

[GeeWhitham]

A fascinating book called Murder, Magic, Madness tells the story of William Dove of 3, Cardigan Place Burley who in 1856 was convicted and hanged for the murder by poisoning of his wife Harriet. Dove had read about the so called Rugely poisoner Dr William Palmer who it was believed had used Strychnine to kill his victims and believing it to be undetectable William had administered it to Harriet. My great great grandmother Jane Whitham was living at that time at number 2 Cardigan place and knew both William and Harriet well. She was an important witness at the subsequent inquest and trial. She was also called at the trial of Dr Palmer which was held at the Old Bailey. Palmer was also convicted and hanged. What is curious is that Jane had at least 2 members of her late husbands family on the inquest jury. Her husband's uncle Stephen Whitham was foreman whilst John Dawson (husband's brother in law) was a jury member.I would be interested to know if Cardigan Place still exists. It is described as being next to the railway, near the gasworks and the Perseverance Iron Foundry. I have studied some of the local papers from the time and this case was a cause celebre.

[Si]

Interesting story, Graham.See my posts on your Perseverance Foundry thread.

[Chrism]

Though now largely forgotten, one of the Victorian era’s most sensational episodes was the murder trial of William Dove. Dove was actually born into a relatively privileged family, but his relationship with a disreputable ‘wizard’ of humbler origins, as well as the disturbing particulars of the murder itself, makes his case especially compelling. In a new book, University of Hertfordshire historian Owen Davies has constructed around Dove’s story an absorbing account of mid-Victorian society in Leeds. With precision and a lightness of touch, it draws on the industrialisation of Yorkshire and enduring superstitions of local people, as well as the mores of the national press, the development of psychiatry and the judicial system. William Dove was the child of strict but not unkind Methodist parents, and one of eight children, most of whom died before reaching adulthood. His early years were marked by his erratic and disturbing behaviour – while growing up he had a penchant for torturing animals with acid, and later displayed a tendency to threaten people with guns. However, he rarely if ever went as far as actual violence towards others, and he was noted for his fits of random generosity. He was also apparently blind to class, disclosing his thoughts freely (and often unwisely) to those of lower social rank. His tactlessness rendering him unsuitable for most middle-class professions, Dove’s parents installed him as a tenant farmer. It was a role in which he struggled, with reports that he harvested barley while still green, and that he expected to fatten his cattle overnight with linseed cakes. However, despite his ineptitude, his continued presence in Methodist social circles did introduce him to Harriet Jenkins, the daughter of a Plymouth shoemaker. Their short, turbulent marriage was perhaps ill-fated from the start, considering her nervous disposition and his volatile behaviour. Yet it was Dove’s relationship with Henry Harrison, the notorious local ‘wizard’ which perhaps had the most intriguing influence. Having met him while drinking, the credulous Dove was apparently much impressed by Harrison’s magical prowess, and in particular the prophesy that Dove’s life would improve upon marrying his second wife. The details of Harrison’s life are sketchier that Dove’s, but reveal an equally disturbing character. A dyer by trade, he abandoned his first wife and children and began to style himself as a magician. Amid the social turbulence of rapid industrialisation there was still a great appetite for supernatural remedies, and as a water-caster (or ‘[edited for content] prophet’) and fortune-teller, Harrison employed his intelligence and guile to make a comfortable living. Davies’s account of the subsequent poisoning of Harriet Dove with strychnine makes for compelling reading, but the author carefully avoids the sensationalism exhibited by the press at the time. The tragic events speak well enough for themselves without recourse to talk of arch-villainy or evil, and the hysteria and hypocrisy of the media are as much targets for opprobrium as Dove’s brutal actions. The question of Dove’s ‘madness’, and how far it could excuse his behaviour, forms a major part of the account of his trial. The cast here includes the pseudo-scientific ‘alienists’ who professed to detect depravity in the shape of the facial features – determined proponents included those desperate to take a cast of the murderer’s head. There are other more compassionate players too, such as the Methodist reformer Thomas Wright who visited Dove many times in his condemned cell. Wright later said of Dove that he ‘never met with a more sincere penitent under similar painful circumstances’ – which could have hardly contrasted more with the press coverage of his character. Having been implicated in the murder trial, Harrison’s eventual downfall came with revelations of his bigamy and sexual predation of a young client. It is in this episode that the author vigorously exposes the misogyny and class bigotry of the era, which practically excused rape in cases where the victim was of a lower class.In its accounts of the lives of lowly operatives of the legal machinery – for instance, the poorly skilled and reviled executioners – the book offers a rich and humane depiction of Victorian society. Without ever losing the thread of his narrative, Davies elegantly touches on many of the 19th century’s social developments, from poisoning hysteria and the end of public executions to the rising power of the press and the fight for social reforms. The result is a dark and magical journey.

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Cardigan Place was a row of terraces at the end of Lillian Place near the viaduct. It was demolished in the early 1970's