94: Tombland
Probably the oldest part of Norwich, Tombland has been at the centre of dramatic events.
An ancient graveyard?
Tombland, Norwich.
The name ‘Tombland’ has nothing to do with tombs. It appears to be of Saxon origin, and denotes an open space. The original town of Northwic grew from this area in Saxon times, with Danish settlers arriving before the 11th century. Tombland has remained a distinctive part of the city, and has been the backdrop to, among other events, the building of a mighty cathedral, riot and rebellion and a firework display that went tragically wrong.
A centre of commerce, then?
In Saxon times Tombland was a major marketplace. It had the palace of the earl of East Anglia as well as the largest church in Norwich, that of St Michael. The Normans changed all that. Not content with moving the marketplace to its current position in the shadow of their new castle, they later put their stamp on the city’s ecclestiastical scene. Bishop Herbert de Losinga built the new cathedral by the river, and demolished the earl’s palace and St Michael’s in the process. Tombland’s character changed as Norwich became the administrative centre for Norfolk, and inns sprang up there to cater for people visiting the cathedral and courts. But it remained an open space used for fairs, such as a yearly horse fair. This survived until the mid 18th century, a few years after Tombland was paved in 1733.
Nice, peaceful place?
In 1272 long-running disputes between the cathedral priory and the people of Norwich culminated in bloodshed. There had long been friction between ‘town and gown’ over land rights. This came to a head at the Trinity Sunday Fair in Tombland, after which violence flared between citizens and monks. Many of the rioters were respectable tradesmen, so this was no mob violence. The monks claimed they fired flaming arrows into Cathedral Close from the top of St George Tombland. The bell tower was burned down along with St Ethelbert’s Church inside the gates. There were deaths on both sides, and the prior fled to Yarmouth, returning with armed men. Things were so bad that King Henry III came in September to settle matters. Although there were rights and wrongs from both points of view, Edward sided with the priory. Several executions later, the citizens were forced to pay costly reparations. Riots flared up fairly often in Norwich history. In 1766 grain was both scarce and expensive. Local businessmen were blamed as profiteers. A mob roamed the city attacking mills, including the house of a baker in Tombland. With army dragoons about to ride from Colchester, Mayor John Patteson took his life in his hands to read the Riot Act, and called out the more respectable citizens who, armed with clubs, broke up the trouble without military assistance.
Despite this, was it a prestigious place to live?
Stone houses were rare in medieval Norwich. One stood on the site of the former Black Horse bookshop, now an Indian restaurant. It was so uncommon the family which owned it was known as ‘de Stonhus’. Another distinguished Tombland resident was Thomas Anguish, sheriff and city mayor. Born in 1538, he rose from apprentice to success in business, and built a mansion where the front of the Maid’s Head hotel is now. Anguish was a familiar figure in the Maid’s Head, drinking ale and playing bowls with his neighbours. It has been an inn for about 700 years, built on foundations of an original Norman bishop’s palace. When Anguish became mayor in June, 1611 there was a lavish pageant in front of his house, complete with a firework display, watched by a large holiday crowd. According to later Norfolk historian Francis Blomefield, the fireworks fired into the crowd – and in the subsequent panic 33 people were trampled to death. As a result fireworks were banned from future celebrations. In his will Anguish made arrangements for a school for poor children, for “keepinge, bringing up and teachinge of younge and very poore children... in this City of Norwich, and specially for suche aas for wante lye in the Steetes, Vaughtes, Doores, and Windows, whereby many fall into great and grievous diseases and lameness, as are fit for no Profession ever after”. The school in nearby Fishergate, known as the Bluecoat for its uniforms, educated boys until the 1800s and girls until the mid 20th century.
What about the ‘crooked house’?
This distinctive property opposite the Erpingham Gate, close to the Maid’s Head, leans at a precarious angle. Its most famous occupant was Augustine Steward, three times Norwich mayor and city MP. This “most active and public-spirited man of the whole city” was put to the test in 1549. While mayor Thomas Codd was held by Robert Kett’s rebels, Steward’s house became headquarters for the government troops sent to restore order. When the earl of Northampton’s Italian mercenaries were routed the rebels took the city. They raided Steward’s house, but he kept his nerve and later helped the earl of Warwick’s relieving army enter Norwich. They subsequently soundly defeated the rebels. Steward had earlier helped rebuild the Guildhall and bought the former Franciscan monastery, St Andrew’s Hall, for the city.
Any other fun and games?
Down the road from Tombland is Fye Bridge. Until the late 16th century this was the site of a ‘cucking stool’. “Strumpets and common scolds” were placed in a cart and paraded through Tombland accompanied by a rough-andready crowd. The unfortunate woman would be tied in the ducking stool and lowered into the River Wensum. Last to suffer this was Margaret Grove, a ‘scold’, who in 1587 was sentenced to be three times ducked.
And today?
Tombland is still an attractive open space, surrounded by restaurants and bars. The statue of wartime nurse Edith Cavell was put up following her reburial in Norwich at the end of the first world war.
Further reading: Stories Behind the Plaques of Norwich, by Gerald Solomons.
