Of Bees and Beer

In the mid-19th century, during the “golden age of English agriculture”, Luke Pearson turned his back on farming and moved to another county to forge a new path. Leaving behind the life he had grown up with, Luke took a risk and – with his wife, Ann Sharman – created a business which his son would one day take over.

Luke was born in 1818, the tenth child of John and Mary Pearson^[1]. By the time he was three, his mother had borne twins both of whom sadly died in infancy^[2]. The family lived in the Cordwell Valley, two miles from Holmesfield, in an area known simply as ‘Bank’, rising steeply via Fox Lane. Holmesfield itself was a small village described in one source as being “highly respectable” with “several very genteel habitations”^[3]. Nestled on the eastern edge of the Peak District, the area is surrounded by rolling farmland, wooded valleys, and distant moors.

By 1841, the Pearsons were farming in nearby Cowley Gore, with Luke as the only child remaining at home^[4]. He worked as a farm servant alongside his father until John’s death in 1845^[5]. Luke stayed on to help his widowed mother on the smallholding^[6] but after her death in 1854 he began to chart a new course^[7]. He became the tenant of Southwood Farm on Hill Top in Dronfield^[8], a well-equipped mixed farm with horses, cattle, pigs and even hives of bees. This was not subsistence farming but a relatively comfortable domestic life with a degree of self-sufficiency and modest prosperity.

Yet by his late 30s, Luke remained unmarried and was perhaps restless. His father had fathered eight children by that age; Luke was still turning the soil alone. One can imagine him at the close of a long summer day in 1856, leaning on his plough, watching the sun dip behind Long Acre Wood, wondering if the life he knew was all there was.

*View from Hill Top towards Long Acre Wood, photo by Ed Ball*

Then in 1857 Luke made a dramatic change^[9]: he gave up farming, auctioned off his livestock, equipment and furniture, and moved to Cowley Bar to establish a grocer’s shop.

*Notice of auction, Sheffield Independent, 31 Jan 1857*

Cowley Bar was a hamlet on a branch of the Sheffield–Derby turnpike, near a tollgate through which coaches and carts frequently passed. The close proximity of the tollgate may have introduced Luke to toll collection as a line of work—an experience that would soon prove relevant. It was also at Cowley Bar that Luke employed a young servant named Ann Sharman^[10]. Though not yet married, Luke and Ann’s relationship became strong, and the arrangement suggests a close domestic partnership well before formal vows.

Ann was born in 1833 in Kirklington, Nottinghamshire, the illegitimate daughter of Isabella Sharman of Sutton cum Duckmanton^[11]. Her baptism record did not name a father, and she grew up in Edingley, where her mother had married Thomas Foster in 1835^[12]. Though she retained the surname Sharman, Ann lived as part of the Foster household, alongside her half-siblings. By 1851, she worked as a framework knitter, a common but gruelling trade in Nottinghamshire, likely taught to her by her stepfather.^[13]

In 1850, Ann’s name briefly appeared in the local newspaper after a man named Thomas Linney was charged with assaulting her in Edingley^[14]. Though the case was settled with costs paid, it’s a rare glimpse into the risks faced by working-class women and Ann’s willingness to seek justice. In 1861, Luke also found himself in the news after he was involved in a coach accident near the Cowley Bar tollgate. He was riding on George Allen’s coach when it collided with a rival driven by John Godber. As a witness, Luke testified that he had warned Allen to stop as they neared the bar, but Allen drove on, leading to the fatal injury of a horse. The court ruled in Godber’s favour, the incident underlining Luke’s presence as a trusted local figure.^[15]

*1893 map showing Holmesfield, Cowley Bar and Cowley Gore*

In July 1862, Luke and Ann married in Newark, both giving their residence as the town and Luke’s occupation as a farm labourer^[16]. The shift suggests they had recently left Cowley Bar, possibly in search of seasonal work or a fresh start closer to Ann’s home county. Their decision to marry in Newark, away from Holmesfield, may have been motivated by convenience, privacy, or Ann’s family ties in nearby Edingley.

*Marriage register entry for Luke and Ann*

By the following spring, the couple had moved again—this time to Hockerton, a small village just north of Southwell—where their first daughter Mary Ann was born in April 1863^[17]. Luke was now employed as a tollgate collector, a position that often came with tied accommodation and steady, if modest, income. His earlier familiarity with tollgates in Cowley Bar likely helped him secure the post.

In 1867, Luke reappears in the records as the occupier of a grocer’s shop, beerhouse and bakehouse in Edingley—Ann’s home village^[18]. Their cottage was next door to Ann’s adoptive father, Thomas Foster. This move marked a return to shopkeeping, but with added stability, now rooted in a community they likely knew well. It may have been a natural next step for a couple seeking to establish themselves after years of moving between roles and locations. Whether through family connections, opportunity, or local need, Edingley became their long-term home and it was here that more children followed: Ellen Jane, Annie Elizabeth, and finally their only son William in 1874—when Luke was 56.^[19]

Location of Luke and Ann's beerhouse at corner of what is now Main St and Station Rd, Edingley — *Location of Luke and Ann’s beerhouse at corner of what is now Main St and Station Rd, Edingley*

Running a beerhouse brought its own challenges. In 1869, new licensing laws required licensees to meet strict standards — no disorder, drunkenness, or gambling — or risk losing their license at the annual ‘brewster sessions’^[20]. Luke would have had to tread carefully. Notorious locals like cottager John Davidson, the so-called “Edingley Giant,” had often been charged with public drunkenness and indecency. Davidson died in 1869, perhaps to Luke’s quiet relief^[21].

Tragedy struck in 1877 when Ann died of pneumonia aged just 44 years old.^[22] Left with three young children, Luke likely relied heavily on Mary Ann, then 14, to help run the household and business. By 1881, she had married and moved next door with her own baby, and Luke continued to run the shop with Ellen Jane and William.^[23]

Depiction of Edingley church as it would have looked at the time of Ann's funeral in 1877 — *Depiction of Edingley church as it would have looked at the time of Ann’s funeral in 1877*

Luke’s later life in Edingley was not without its dramas. In April 1881, he gave evidence in a burglary case after a man broke into the home of local shoemaker John Hallam. From his premises nearby, Luke had seen the suspect near the toll road and later observed him vanishing behind Hallam’s house, confirming key details in the prosecution’s case^[24]. Just a few years later, in 1884, he himself was the victim of petty theft when a local youth stole a mustard pot containing money from his shop^[25]. Then in 1893, a drunk labourer stole Luke’s jacket from the pub while under the influence^[26]. These minor episodes, scattered across more than a decade, show Luke not only as a long-serving grocer and beerhouse keeper, but as someone whose premises stood at the heart of village life — a place where the ordinary and the unruly alike passed through.

Luke never remarried. He remained a widower and continued as a grocer and publican into his seventies.^[27] He died in 1895 of acute gastritis at age 77^[28]. His estate was valued at £62^[29]—modest but a testament to a lifetime of steady effort—and his son William succeeded him in running the business, continuing the Pearson presence in Edingley for at least another generation.^[30]

Luke and Ann’s lives, rooted in farming and framework knitting, were transformed by perseverance into one of enterprise and community. He abandoned a familiar life for something new; she endured and overcame hardship; together they built a legacy of self-reliance and community that continued through their children.

[1] Baptism record of Luke Pearson, Holmesfield, 1818

[2] Baptism/burial records for Caroline and Selby Pearson, Holmesfield, 1822

[3] Pigot and Co’s Commercial Directory for Derbyshire, 1835

[4] 1841 Census entry for household of John Pearson, Cowley, Dronfield, HO107/1951/1

[5] Burial record for John Pearson, Holmesfield, 1845

[6] 1851 Census entry for household of Mary Pearson, Cowley Gore, Dronfield, HO107/2148

[7] Pearson/Cope family tree in possession of Valerie Pearson

[8] Derbyshire Courier, 14 March 1857

[9] Adverts in Sheffield Independent and Derbyshire Courier from 31 Jan and 14 Mar 1857 respectively

[10] 1861 Census entry for household of Luke Pearson, Cowley Bar, Dronfield, RG9/2537

[11] Transcription of baptism record of Ann Sharman, Kirklington, 1833

[12] 1841 Census entry for household of Thomas Foster, Edingley, HO107/865/17

[13] 1851 Census entry for household of Thomas Foster, Edingley, HO107/2134

[14] Nottingham Review, 5 July 1850

[15] Derbyshire Courier, 23 Feb 1861

[16] Marriage certificate of Luke Pearson and Ann Sharman, Newark, 1862

[17] Birth certificate of Mary Ann Pearson, Southwell, 1863

[18] Nottinghamshire Guardian, 14 Jun 1867; 1871 Census entry for household of Luke Pearson, Edingley, RG10/3532

[19] 1881 Census entry for household of Luke Pearson, Edingley, RG11/3368

[20] Wine and Beerhouse Act, 1869

[21] Various articles in Nottinghamshire Guardian, 1861-1869

[22] Death certificate of Ann Pearson, Southwell, 1877

[23] 1881 census

[24] Nottinghamshire Guardian, 8 July 1881

[25] Nottinghamshire Guardian, 7 Mar 1884

[26] Newark Advertiser, 9 Aug 1893

[27] 1891 Census entry for household of Luke Pearson, Edingley, RG12/2707

[28] Death certificate of Luke Pearson, Southwell, 1895

[29] Grant of Probate for Luke Pearson, County of Nottingham, 14 Nov 1895

[30] Newark Advertiser, 29 Apr 1896

In Sickness and in Ale

William Maddock (later Mattock) and Keziah Jackson spent their entire lives in the rural Lincolnshire fens, raising 11 children while struggling to make ends meet. William was born in Dowsdale near Crowland^[1], but his life changed dramatically when his father died when he was just 12^[2]. Left without a paternal figure, he worked for a grazier named James Whitsed in nearby Postland^[3]. William’s duties likely included raising cattle or sheep for market, with food and lodging provided in exchange for his labor. He was one of three servants working for Whitsed and his wife.

Meanwhile, Keziah, nearly three years younger than William, grew up less than two miles away in Whaplode Drove at her parents’ home on Green Bank^[4]. Her father, James Jackson, was an agricultural laborer, so it’s likely that William and Keziah crossed paths during their youth in the 1840s, though they didn’t marry until later.

By 1850, they were engaged, and on October 14 of that year, William (23) and Keziah (20), who was already four months pregnant, traveled to the market town of Holbeach. There, they were married at the Church of All Saints by Reverend James Morton^[5]. Neither the bride nor the groom could sign their names, so they, along with the witnesses James Jackson (Keziah’s father) and Sarah Taylor, marked the register with an ‘X.’

Marriage register entry, showing ‘X’ signatures

The couple initially settled in Moulton^[6], just a few doors down from Keziah’s parents, where their first son, James, was born in early 1851^[7]. Soon, they moved to Holbeach Fen, a place where they would remain for the next four decades. William took up work as a shepherd^[8], and the family grew rapidly, adding five more sons—John, William, Samuel, and Charles—and two daughters, Mary and Elizabeth, over the next 11 years^[9].

Life in the mid-nineteenth century was hard for a family of their size. Formal schooling did not become widespread until 1870, so the older children—particularly the boys—likely helped with farm work to supplement the family income. Keziah and the older girls took care of the household chores and looked after the younger children. Education was often an afterthought, with reading and writing seen as unnecessary skills for farm work.

Money was tight, and with so many mouths to feed, proper nourishment was difficult to come by. Illnesses, particularly childhood diseases like measles, were common and deadly. Measles, which was typically a mild infection, was one of the leading causes of death for children during this time, and in 1863, it claimed the life of their second eldest child, John. After a long day’s work in the fields, possibly weakened by malnutrition, John fell ill, and despite Keziah’s likely efforts to treat him with tonics and remedies, he died on May 26, 1863, aged just 10^[10].

Over the next few years, the Mattocks had four more children—David, Thomas, Jacob, and Ruth. With the addition of each child, making ends meet became increasingly difficult. However, a turning point came in 1870 with the establishment of local education authorities. For the first time, the older children could attend regular school, and Keziah was able to contribute more to the family’s earnings.

With an agricultural depression beginning to affect the region, William and Keziah, now in their 40s, decided to open a beerhouse. A “beerhouse” was a private home where an “ale wife” could brew and sell beer. They later took over the Bell Inn on Cranesgate in Whaplode, supplementing their income by renting rooms to lodgers. Despite the growing business, William continued working as a farm laborer and kept cows on their four-acre plot of land^[11].

AI-generated depiction of the Bell (by then the Bluebell) Inn from an original photo provided by the current owner, John Lusher. He believes the pub hadn’t changed much by 1964 when the photo was taken.

Running an inn was far from straightforward. In 1871, the Bell Inn was the site of a dramatic and dangerous event. A man named John Wallace, an Irish harvestman, began causing a disturbance in his room in the early hours of the morning, smashing furniture and throwing it through the window. The other lodgers cowered in fear as a policeman, PC Woodhall, was summoned from Holbeach, four miles away. Wallace, in a violent rage, struck the officer on the head with part of a cast iron fender. Though wounded, PC Woodhall, with the help of some other men, was able to subdue Wallace, who was later declared insane and committed to the County Lunatic Asylum^[12].

The Mattocks also faced challenges due to the Licensing Acts, particularly the 1872 Act. This law limited closing hours to 11 pm in rural areas and regulated beer content, even allowing local authorities to ban alcohol altogether. The Act led to protests and near-riots as publicans resisted what they saw as an attack on their livelihoods. William received a caution in 1877^[13] after being fined for permitting drunkenness at the Bell^[14]. For many in the industry, losing their license would have meant financial ruin, and the annual licensing meeting at the Sessions House in Spalding must have been an intimidating event for someone like William, who could ill afford to lose his business.

In 1884, the Third Reform Act extended the right to vote to men who owned property worth £10 or more, including William. This shift meant that for the first time, he was part of a larger group of rural men who gained the right to participate in national elections.

As the years passed, William and Keziah saw many of their children marry and start families of their own^[15], both in the Holbeach area and beyond. The 3 girls all married local farm workers but of their sons only James remained nearby, running an inn in Sutton St. James^[16], while the others ventured out in search of work. Jacob, David, and Thomas moved to Yorkshire for industrial work, although David later returned to Whaplode, where he became a farmer. Samuel worked in Heckington and Helpringham before settling in to work on the railways. Charles, and possibly William, emigrated to Ontario, Canada, to continue farming.

By 1891, William, 64, and Keziah, 61, were still running the Bell Inn. Their son Thomas, now 23, had joined them in the family business, while in neighboring properties, their daughter Mary lived with her three children, and their son David had settled nearby with his wife and child.

However, by 1895, the family dynamic had shifted. David had relocated to Attercliffe, Sheffield, in search of work, while Thomas had married and started his own family.

Keziah passed away on February 8, 1897, at the age of 67 after a stroke^[17], what was then referred to as “Cerebral Disease, Paralysis.” William, suffering from dementia and unable to care for himself, was admitted to the Holbeach Union Workhouse. He died 10 months later, on December 28, 1897, at the age of 70^[18].

[1] Transcript of William’s baptism record in Thorney, Cambs, 21 Jan 1827, “Cambridgeshire Baptisms”, FindMyPast
[2] Index entry for Samuel Maddock, Holbeach, Lincs, 1839, “England & Wales, Civil Registration Death Index, 1837-1915”, Ancestry
[3] 1841 Census entry for James Whitsed, Portland, Crowland parish, HO107/606/13
[4] 1841 Census entry for James Jackson, Green Bank, Whaplode Drove, HO107/612/3
[5] Parish register for Holbeach All Saints, marriage entry for William Maddock & Keziah Jackson, Oct 14 1850
[6] 1851 Census entry for William Mattock, Queen’s Bank, Moulton, HO107/2096
[7] ibid.
[8] 1861 Census entry for William Mattock, St. John’s Road, Holbeach All Saints, RG9/2330
[9] 1871 Census entry for William Mattock, Dog Drove, Holbeach St. John’s, RG10/3332
[10] Death register entry for John Mattock, 26 May 1863 Holbeach Fen, son of William Mattock, farm labourer
[11] 1881 Census entry for William Mattock, Bell End Cranes Gate, Whaplode St Mary’s, RG11/3211
[12] Lincolnshire Free Press, 19 Sep 1871 and Lynn News County Press, 23 Sep 1871
[13] Stamford Mercury, 7 Sep 1877
[14] Lincolnshire Free Press, 3 Apr 1877
[15] Lincolnshire Marriages and Banns, FindMyPast
[16] 1881 Census entry for James Mattock, Old Fen Dike “Chequers Inn”, Sutton St. James, RG11/3207
[17] Death register entry for Kezia Mattock, 8 Feb 1897 Whaplode Fen, wife of William Mattock a farm labourer
[18] Death register entry for Willam Mattock, 28 Dec 1897 Holbeach Union Workhouse, Fleet, formerly an Innkeeper of Whaplode

Pillars of Helpringham

Sam and Sarah Mattock were married for 42 years and became pillars of the community in the village of Helpringham in Lincolnshire. From inauspicious beginnings they forged their own path and dedicated themselves to helping both the young and old of their local area, despite lives punctuated with tragedy. Sam was a competent and energetic man, one of Helpringham’s first parish councillors¹ and served as Superintendent of the Sunday School for over 20 years². The two of them were heavily involved in the Primitive Methodist Chapel with Sam as a preacher, secretary and trustee, and Sarah a dedicated organiser and caterer of local events and member of the choir. They had four children together, living for many years in Rose Cottage near to the centre of the village, with Sam spending most of his days working on the railway.

A Young Bride and an Early Start

Sarah Ann Warrington was born in Heckington³, a large village on the road from Boston to Sleaford, nestled among lush pastures with views across the Fens. She was only 16 when she married 22-year-old farm labourer Sam Mattock in the spring of 1880, though she listed her age as 19 on the marriage register⁴. Already two months pregnant, she may have felt the urgency of marriage, perhaps encouraged by her widowed mother, Jane, who worked as a charwoman to make ends meet. Sarah’s father, Fred Warrington, had died when she was only 2⁵.

Sam had moved north from his family home 20 miles away near Holbeach⁶. His father was a shepherd, while Sarah’s brothers were all farm labourers so they likely met through mutual acquaintances or at a local agricultural show or fair.

The wedding took place at the Register Office in Sleaford, a choice often made for reasons of privacy and affordability⁷—particularly for young couples in Sarah and Sam’s situation. The witnesses were their close friends, George and Sarah Houlden, siblings of a similar age⁸. Just six months later, on 30 November 1880, their first child, Clara Jane, was born, her middle name a tribute to her grandmother.

In the 1881 census⁹ Sam, Sarah, and baby Clara were recorded at Jane’s house in Heckington. Perhaps they were visiting, or maybe, like many young couples, they had no choice but to share a roof with family while saving for a home of their own. Over the next few years, their family grew with the arrival of Charles in 1883 and Annie in 1885¹⁰. But joy turned to heartbreak when little Annie contracted typhoid fever. She passed away at just two years old, her small body exhausted by the disease¹¹. Now treatable with antibiotics, typhoid is a highly contagious bacterial infection which was very common at the time and especially prevalent in areas with poor sanitation or limited access to clean water. The family buried Annie on 5 January 1888 at St Andrew’s Church in Helpringham¹², where they were now living on the Green near the Methodist Chapel. It was a loss they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

A Life on the Railway

By the late 1880s, Sam had left agricultural work for the railways, seeking steadier employment. The Helpringham Station opened in 1882¹³ and he found work as a platelayer¹⁴, inspecting and maintaining the tracks. The work must certainly have suited him better as he stayed in the same job for the next 40 years. He would however have spent long, arduous hours walking the line with a gang of men, replacing worn out rails or rotten sleepers, levelling the tracks, weeding and clearing drains¹⁵. It was hard work, poorly paid and a job with little opportunity for advancement (“the most neglected man in the service”). Sam however was clearly industrious and earned a promotion to foreman in later years¹⁶.

*A railway track maintenance gang, early 1900s*

Another downside of railway work was the risk to life and limb. It was not uncommon for platelayers to be accidentally struck by trains, often with fatal consequences. In one incident of the time, a careless worker on the Great Northern Railway was waving to a coal train when he got hit by a passenger express coming the other direction. He was completely decapitated, his head later being found 30 yards away from his body¹⁷. Although Sam may have avoided serious injury, he almost certainly knew some who were less lucky and was himself involved in a distressing incident of another kind later in his career.

Around 8.30 on one damp January morning, Sam was at work about half a mile from Helpringham station. He noticed something white in the ditch by the side of the line and on closer inspection discovered a small bundle. At first sight it appeared to be clothing but Sam was horrified to find that the parcel was in fact the body of a baby boy wrapped in old bed quilting. He took the body to the local police who concluded that the child had been born very recently and likely died before being thrown from a fast train the previous evening¹⁸.

The harrowing sight would have stuck in the memory for anyone, but possibly more so for Sam who had a particular fondness for children. He delighted in his role as class leader at the Methodist Sunday School and his affection for his students was certainly reciprocated¹⁹.

*Helpringham Primitive Methodist Chapel, rebuilt in 1883*

Building a Home and a Community

By 1893, the Mattocks’ family was complete with the birth of their second son, Samuel Jr. Around the same time, Sarah’s elderly mother, Jane, moved in with them at Rose Cottage²⁰, where she remained until her passing in 1903²¹.

As their children grew, life carried them beyond Helpringham. By 1901, 18-year-old Charles had moved to Sheffield, finding work in the steel industry and lodging with his cousin, William, the eldest son of Sam’s brother James²². Clara remained at home, working as a dressmaker, but her trips to visit Charles would soon lead her to meet her future husband, Charles Edward Ball (known as Charlie). One of Samuel Jr’s first jobs was with the GN & GE Railway in Lincolnshire²³, a position he perhaps secured through his father’s contacts at the company. He later worked as a goods clerk at Misterton Station near Doncaster²⁴.

Over the years, all three surviving Mattock children married—first Charles to Cecilia in 1906²⁵, then Clara to Charlie in 1910²⁶, and finally Samuel to Ethel in 1919. One can imagine Sam exchanging stories with Charlie’s father, Charles Ball Sr, who also worked on the railway²⁷. It must have been a proud moment for Sam and Sarah to witness each of their children build their own lives and families.

*Sam and Sarah Mattock (front) with Clara, Samuel Jr, Charlie and Cecilia behind (c1906, possibly taken to mark Charlie and Cecilia’s wedding)*

A Sudden Loss

With their children grown, Sam and Sarah remained together at Rose Cottage, their days filled with work, church, and simple pleasures. They had lived there from at least 1910 when they rented the property from elderly estate owner and local dignitary Robert Ellis Watling²⁸. Sam maintained a large allotment near the railway and Sarah took pride in cooking and preserving food²⁹.

Then, on a chilly afternoon on 9 November 1922, tragedy struck. Sam, at 64, was at work as usual but mentioned feeling unwell. Determined to carry on, he continued his duties until mid-afternoon. As he walked toward the station-yard, he suddenly collapsed. By the time his colleagues reached him, he was gone—his heart had failed. His death was so sudden that an inquest was held the next day. The news sent shockwaves through Helpringham, with local papers reporting that “quite a gloom was cast over the village.”. The funeral service was held at the Primitive Methodist Chapel the following Monday and was largely attended by many friends and family. Old scholars of the Sunday School lined the cemetery path as their “dear Superintendent” was laid to rest³⁰.

Life as a widow

Sarah lived on for 27 years after Sam’s passing. She remained at Rose Cottage, now joined by Clara and her husband Charlie Ball, along with their sons, Ted and Ron who called her ‘Gran’. With Charlie’s health declining, the couple purchased the cottage from Sarah’s landlord, ensuring the family home stayed in their hands. Mother and daughter kept busy growing vegetables, preserving fruit, and cooking together, while the boys attended Donington Grammar School³¹.

However, tragedy struck again in 1944. Amidst the turmoil of World War II, Charlie Mattock’s wife, Cecilia, took her own life in Helpringham Beck³². Her coat, shoes, hat, and spectacles were neatly arranged on the bank. She had long suffered from depression and had spent time in a mental hospital. Her loss was another painful chapter in the family’s history.

Sarah, now in her eighties, lived to see the end of the war. She passed away on 1 September 1949, aged 86, from heart disease³³. She was laid to rest beside Sam in a double plot at the High Street cemetery in Helpringham—a final reunion after decades apart.

A Lasting Legacy

Sam and Sarah’s story is one of resilience, love, and service. From a hurried young marriage to a lifetime of community devotion, they faced their share of struggles but left behind a family deeply rooted in the values they held dear. Their legacy continues in the generations that followed, woven into the history of Helpringham and beyond.

*Four generations: Sarah (left), with daughter Clara, grandson Ted, his wife Joan and baby Graham*. July 1947

1 Grantham Journal, 2 Dec 1894
2 Sleaford Gazette, 18 Nov 1922
3 1871 census, Heckington, household of Jane Warrington
4 Marriage certificate of Samuel Mattock and Sarah Ann Warrington
5 Stamford Mercury, 23 Mar 1866
6 1871 census, Holbeach, household of William Mattock
7 Avoiding Attention? Assessing the Reasons for Register Office Weddings in Victorian England and Wales. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14631180.2023.2205736#d1e109
8 Marriage certificate, ibid.
9 1881 census, Heckington, household of Jane Warrington
10 1891 census, Helpringham, household of Samuel Mattock
11 Death register entry for Annie Mattock
12 Lincolnshire parish registers, 1538-1911
13 Wikipedia, Helpringham railway station – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helpringham_railway_station
14 1891 census, ibid.
15 The Dirt of the Victorian Railway Industry – The Platelayers, https://turniprail.blogspot.com/2010/11/dirt-of-victorian-railway-industry.html?m=1
16 Grantham Journal, 1 Feb 1913
17 Nottinghamshire Guardian, 16 Dec 1893
18 Grantham Journal and Sleaford Gazette, 1 Feb 1913
19 Sleaford Gazette, 18 Nov 1922
20 1901 census, Helpringham, household of Samuel Mattock
21 Death index entry for Jane Warrington
22 1901 census, Attercliffe cum Darnall, household of Sarah Ann Walker
23 1911 census, Cowbit nr Spalding, household of Middleton Pinder
24 1921 census, Misterton, household of Samuel Mattock
25 Marriage index entry for Charles Mattock
26 Marriage certificate of Charles Edward Ball and Clara Jane Mattock
27 1901 census, Attercliffe cum Darnall, household of Charles Ball
28 Email from Julie Close (Helpringham History Society) to Jaine Burton
29 Letter from Allen Mattock, 10 May 2010
30 Louth Standard 25 Nov 1922 and Sleaford Gazette 18 Nov 1922
31 Interview with Dina Maclean, 6 Mar 2010
32 Sleaford Gazette, 2 Jun 1944
33 Death certificate of Sarah Ann Mattock

Research Notes

We can’t know for sure why they chose to marry at the Register Office but there are three possible reasons: to keep the wedding private; practical considerations of location, cost and speed; or ideological preferences. All of these may be factors.

The first three children were baptised at Heckington parish church but there is no record of Samuel being baptised in the parish registers. It could be that their Methodism had fully taken over by then. It’s interesting that Clara’s marriage took place at the Anglican church of St Andrew’s, but perhaps this was her husband’s influence.

I’m not sure exactly when they moved into Rose Cottage but tax records held by Julie at the Helpringham History Society showed it was at least 1910. The photo in front of the coal shed looks to have been taken around 1905, given Samuel Jr’s age. Granny said she had to fetch coal from that shed when she stayed there, suggesting that it was taken at Rose Cottage, but it could easily be a similar shed at a previous property.

It would be worth investigating if any records exist for the parish council, Sunday School, Methodist Chapel, temperance league or GN & GE Railway. More research would be valuable on the lives of Charlie and Samuel Mattock Jr.