We have now lived in the King’s Lynn area for ten years. It is only in relatively recent times, however, that we have started to take an interest in its substantial history.

That, I have to report, is our fault, not King’s Lynn’s. It has always had the heritage, we just weren’t really aware of it.

Sure, everyone knows of King John spilling his treasure somewhere in The Wash when he, rather foolishly it has to be said, decided to drive his carts across the bit on the map that was shown blue. It is just the sort of thing you would expect from a distracted tourist placing too much faith in satnav. Perhaps he wasn’t that familiar with the area, easy mistake to make.

And so it was, on a drizzly Sunday afternoon (hence the stock image at the top of this post), when the persistent drizzle was only interrupted by heavier downpours, that we found ourselves standing on the pavement just outside the entrance to the South Gate.

We were hoping beyond hope that when we tried the door it would open, thus avoiding a drenching.

I have never invested in an umbrella, all I ever do is criticise umbrella owners for they are one of the main hazards that hinder the visually impaired. I have suggested, quite politely actually, that users might refrain from their use in case they impale one of my eyes on a vicious spoke end.

They can often counter this with the observation that it wouldn’t significantly affect my life. That is probably true in the long term, although I would be rather inconvenienced for a few days waiting in Accident and Emergency for my damaged eye to be removed.

What about the pain? I would be slightly comforted by the thought that when the de facto weapon is returned to its stand later that day it might well be stained by the eye jelly. Small consolation, me thinks.

Fortunately, though, it was open and, rather gratifyingly, it was warm inside and even more pleasing, given its age, it was dry. Boy, were we in for a treat.

It wasn’t a personal tour but an official open day. It did seem to be very popular. Just inside the door we discovered that it had a cast iron oven. Can you imagine, the smell of freshly baked bread on the go? Not too bad a place to be working, especially in winter with the heat radiating out as well.

What a greeting as you approached the town gate upon your cart, snow falling all around, and you pop into pay your toll that the gatekeeper might levy, to enjoy the warmth and fresh bread aroma. Not for you, though, the staff would send you on your way, not willing to share hospitality with you. You would have to go in search of an inn within the town, putting up with whatever infestation would be living in your straw mattress, if you were lucky enough to afford one.

I assume that the gatekeepers were among the wealthiest in the community. They were, generally, appointed by the Council and usually served in post for a year.

Records show that some did keep the position for extended periods. It does seem to have been fairly lucrative, it appears that the appointee would pay the Council an annual charge for the position, in return charging all who passed through the gate the toll.

I am not clear as to whether they could make up their own charges or followed a strict code set down by the good burghers of the town. I suspect it was the latter, although I think, if they were business minded enough, which I am sure they would have been, they could have made a pretty penny on the side. Owners of taverns, inns and whorehouses would all be keen to garner income from visitors to the town so the gatekeeper could be bought off to recommend particular establishments to traders, artisans and tourists alike.

<image: Robert trying out one of the helmets on display inside the Kings Lynn South Gate>

The gate still has an imposing feel to it today, spread over three storeys as it is, with the view only being spoiled by modern day traffic, the relatively recently constructed London Road now runs under its arch. No tolls anymore except, I have to say, it might be an idea.

The gates disappeared a long time ago. I think that the reimposition of tolls to enter towns and villages would be a grand notion, especially in our village.

Since the advent of satnav, we find ourselves on a rat run from the A148 to the A1065. I would set up tollbooths at each end of the village and whilst I would not charge residents or drivers with business in the community, I would charge those seeking to shorten their journeys the sum of £100 per pass. It would soon nip this antisocial behaviour in the bud! I would also introduce tolls for other kinds of antisocial behaviour as well, especially the annoying pestilence identified as curb-ball.

Let’s take a tour. The ground floor seems like a good place to begin. I have already mentioned the oven. As it happens, the oven was placed within the fireplace, serving two purposes, the provision of bread and warmth.

Positioned to the right of the fire there is a lavabo, basically a basin, thus proving hygiene was paramount, especially for the baker handling hot loaves, even in those days.

Don’t you love the word, lavabo, I do. You can see the development of language across Europe. El lavabo is still used in Iberian bathrooms to describe a basin. In the main, it seems to have continued in English to describe a particular washing place for ecclesiastical premises, cleanliness is next to godliness and all that sort of thing, for ritual purposes.

Having been around the ruins of many monasteries up and down the land, I have come across lavatoria. I have always pictured in my minds-eye rows of monks taking part in communal shits. Maybe I need to rethink this, perhaps it was only a place of washing hands in groups. Next time you are hosting friends for dinner just announce that you won’t be long as you need to go and wash your hands in the new lavabo before serving up.

It would also put an end to the perennial misuse of the word “sink” in a bathroom, it belongs in a kitchen. A sink usually has one or two sunken bowls and a separate area for draining, you never hear anyone call it a basin do you.

The word lavatory has evolved from lavatorium and was, originally, a place for washing hands. It slowly changed into being used to describe a toilet as well or, in some cases, a bathroom, even though the presence of a bathtub is not essential. Fascinating stuff, wouldn’t you agree.

Let’s mount the helical staircase to the middle floor. I have no idea why, but my highlight to be found on this floor are the indoor privies, or garderobe, no it’s not a railway station in France. It strikes me that we were ahead of ourselves in those days, why oh why did we regress to installing outside toilets in later times. It doesn’t make sense.

Human waste didn’t drop out of a hole in the wall behind the seat but was contained within the buttress chute where it would be collected at the bottom, pun intended, by the town’s waste management team and dumped in the river. Might get away with that one in winter but I am not sure it would make a very fetching scent in summer.

It seems that the old gatekeeper had a side shuffle. He was also responsible for the cleaning away of human waste and dumping it in the river from whence, in theory, it would be washed out to sea to feed the fishes.

It made money on the side because if anything was seen glittering in the muck it could be retrieved and sold back to the owner if it had been reported missing. Even in KL today, it might well be similar in other towns as well, there still appears to be the ceremonial position of Custodian of the South Gate and Keeper of the Muckhill. Wouldn’t it be rather splendid to have that on your CV. I think it would guarantee you being called for at least an interview for whatever you were applying for.

<image: Robert enjoying exploring the Kings Lynn South Gate>

We continued on upwards to the top floor. This is where, initially, the gatekeeper would have been quartered. In later years he would have been moved to a tenement only a few metres away. It could have been made quite cosy.

Talking of discharging through walls, we are right in the middle of the period where cannon development was moving on apace, hence the inclusion of circular gunports to defend the town from any unwelcome actors.

I was fascinated to learn of one significant event that featured the South Gate. In fact, it was 382 years ago on Friday last that the English Civil War turned hot.

The opening battle, at Edgehill in Warwickshire, saw around 12,500 Royalists, personally commanded by Charles I, face-off against 15,000 Parliamentarians, led by the Earl of Essex. I can’t help comparing it to a modern-day football match played by a bunch of enthusiastic amateurs.

I am not sure that either manager was that astute when setting up his team. In the end it turned into an indecisive score draw regardless of the pitched carnage in midfield featuring pikes, axes and swords. Maybe 1,200 lives were lost across both sides. A replay date was set but the rematch did not take place. Both armies, exhausted by their efforts on the first day, used the night to spirit themselves away into the darkness.

We all recall the heart-rending images of two royal princes, William and Harry, following the coffin of their late mother. This sort of goings-on was nothing new within royal circles. Even Charles I thought it was a grand idea to bring his boys along to see how their old man went about putting the pesky Roundheads back in their place.

The future Charles II and James II, twelve and nine on the day would, surely, have been better off staying in school. Instead, they witnessed the beginning of the journey that would, just over six years later, end up with the royal head dropping into a basket atop scaffolding in Whitehall.

As sure as eggs is eggs, the Civil War came to King’s Lynn nearly a year later. On 28th August 1643 the Parliamentarians laid siege to the town under the command of Major-General Edward Montagu, Earl of Manchester, including, among his staff, an up-and-coming colonel by the name of Oliver Cromwell, I wonder what happened to him.

The defences were overseen by a loyalist, Sir Hamon L’Estrange of Hunstanton, who had only recently seized the town, which had declared for Parliament, on behalf of the King. If you think that name is somewhat familiar to you and you are a regular reader of these pages, you’d be right.

If you go back and take a look, which you surely can now on the website, you will find reference to one of his medieval relations, John L’Estrange, in the St Andrew’s Church of Little Massingham episode, number TBB115. I think it is safe to say that the L’Estrange were major and monied landowners in Norfolk. My word, they needed to be.

It must be said, as far as defensive displays are concerned, the protection of KL does not rate that high. It was all over by 16th September, my sister’s birthday, albeit 321 years later, with an ignominious surrender. Old Hamon had been promised relief from the Royal Army, under the charge of the Earl of Newcastle.

It did not manifest itself out of the Wash because it stopped in at Hull on the way to sort out some troublesome parliamentarians, a tradition continued to this day, or that’s what I find, the Humber port has always been home to one or two annoying parliamentarians.

L’Estrange got away with it, many other royalist commanders during the war ended up in front of a firing squad, but Hamon was allowed to walk free providing he paid for the damage, whether caused by his team or the opposition. It appears to have cost him £1,088, which is worth… well, I don’t know what it is worth.

I did find out three conversions, depending on what you might do with the money. If it was your budget for the shopping of groceries and the like it would be worth about £260,000 today; if you wanted to spend it on labour, which is possibly the more accurate conversion, it would be worth nearly £4,000,000; if, however, it is taken as a share of Gross Domestic Product it would convert to around £35,000,000. It would have burned a sizeable hole in his pocket, that’s for sure.

Find Out More
Whilst there are many online sites you can visit for more information, I have listed two. I haven’t advertised a particular page on each website because, in my view, both are well worth exploring in detail:


King’s Lynn Civic Society:
https://www.kingslynncivicsociety.co.uk

King’s Lynn and West Norfolk Borough Council:
https://www.west-norfolk.gov.uk

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South Gate tour: good; could go without companion – 🦯 🦯 🦯 (3)