McCarthy/Dieppe

[Debra A]

Thanks, Joshua.

I can just imagine a gang of navvies recently returned from a year or so in France using the few bits of French they'd picked up in the local Herts pubs.

So can I, Gary.
The one I posted appeared in something described as:
'A Collection of ballads: chiefly printed in London by Catnach, J. Pitts and others, mostly between 1800 and 1870: but with a few of earlier date and with a few prose broadsides: collected by the Rev. Sabine Baring Gould; with manuscript indexes'
It was attributed to Francis Bros. and Day as Josh said, but no date given for the publication and it was titled 'Tres Bien.'

There are a few examples of 'Tray Bong' and 'Bong zhore' use much earlier in the 1850's in comic and satirical pieces. all relating to the English speaking French.

[Joshua Rogan]

It was attributed to Francis Bros. and Day as Josh said, but no date given for the publication and it was titled 'Tres Bien.'

Don't listen to me Debs...It may be the same publisher, but it turns out that the one I posted is a completely different song to your one, both with Tray Bong in the title!

[MrBarnett]

So can I, Gary.
The one I posted appeared in something described as:
'A Collection of ballads: chiefly printed in London by Catnach, J. Pitts and others, mostly between 1800 and 1870: but with a few of earlier date and with a few prose broadsides: collected by the Rev. Sabine Baring Gould; with manuscript indexes'
It was attributed to Francis Bros. and Day as Josh said, but no date given for the publication and it was titled 'Tres Bien.'

There are a few examples of 'Tray Bong' and 'Bong zhore' use much earlier in the 1850's in comic and satirical pieces. all relating to the English speaking French.

Thanks, Debs, that's very useful! I was thinking that 'Tray Bong' might have been a local mishearing of what the navvies were saying, but if it was a commonly-used term for the mangling of French pronunciation, then there's even more reason to believe some at least of the Digswell workforce had recently been in France.

[Sam Flynn]

It's a pun on "très bon", n'est-ce pa's?

[MrBarnett]

It's a pun on "très bon", n'est-ce pa's?

Sands doubt!

[Scott Nelson]

sans doute

[MrBarnett]

sans doute

Tray bong!

[Herlock Sholmes]

Thanks, Debs. I still have to locate Dennis's precise POB - Halsey Field, Digswell, which a Welwyn local historian I contacted suggested was probably just what it says on the tin, a field owned by a well-known local farming family named Halsey where Brassey's navvies camped.

I'm particularly pleased by the alleged connection to the prize fighter Tom Sayer, who was a protege of the granddaddy of the London horse slaughterers, Jack Atcheler.

Gary, I bet you’re already aware if this but here it is anyway.

I was at my dads and he’d just watched the Are You Being Served movie. I noticed this bloke in the final credits. Any relation?

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0040322/

[MrBarnett]

Gary, I bet you’re already aware if this but here it is anyway.

I was at my dads and he’d just watched the Are You Being Served movie. I noticed this bloke in the final credits. Any relation?

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0040322/

Yes, I've stumbled across him a few times when looking for info on knacker Jack. I don't believe he's a direct descendant, but it's not an extremely common name, so their might be some connection.

[MrBarnett]

Yes, I've stumbled across him a few times when looking for info on knacker Jack. I don't believe he's a direct descendant, but it's not an extremely common name, so their might be some connection.

This is the Jack:

[Herlock Sholmes]

He looks the picture of Victorian respectability. I’d imagine that he was a formidable bloke? Like you I just thought that it’s such an unusual name.

It says that the ‘tv’ Atcheler died in Whitstable, Kent. I can’t recall from reading your research but is there any Kent connection which might increase the possibility of some kind of family link?

[MrBarnett]

He looks the picture of Victorian respectability. I’d imagine that he was a formidable bloke? Like you I just thought that it’s such an unusual name.

It says that the ‘tv’ Atcheler died in Whitstable, Kent. I can’t recall from reading your research but is there any Kent connection which might increase the possibility of some kind of family link?

Not that I know of. Jack was originally from rural Bedfordshire. He started his horse-slaughtering business in Sharpe's Alley, Clerkenwell (near Smithfield), then moved up to Belle Isle in Islington. Towards the end of his life, by which time he was quite comfortably off, styling himself "Horse Slaughterer to Her Majesty", he lived in a suburban villa in Finchley. When he died, a man named John Harrison and some others took over the business in Belle Isle. It was Harrison's son, also named John, who created Harrison, Barber.

[MrBarnett]

Michael,

You really shouldn't get me started on this subject...

I've nabbed this from the Harrison, Barber thread on JTRF:


In his photo Jack Atcheler looks every inch the eminent Victorian. There's something Gladstonian about the square jaw and the steady eye, but press reports of his activities paint a somewhat different picture.

This example is from 1848, 4 years after the great man's dignity had been affronted by cries of "Sassengers", "Polonies", "Small Germans" and "Kidney Puddings" from the irreverent London crowd.



Interesting to Consumers of Sausages

At the Clerkenwell Police Office, on Thursday week, Mordecai Andrews, a countryman, was charged by a city policeman under the following circumstances :- At an early hour in the morning the prisoner was observed near Smithfield with a horse and cart, the latter containing two dead cows and a horse, and the most offensive effluvium proceeded from them. The policeman, suspecting they were meant for sausage meat, followed the prisoner until he arrived at the premises of Mr. Lansdowne, a sausage merchant of Sharpe's Alley, Cow Cross, where he backed the cart in, but Mr. Lansdowne told the party it was a mistake, and the carcases were not meant for him. The officer, knowing the dead carcases were not fit for human diet, questioned the prisoner, who hesitated, and gave such an unsatisfactory account of his possession of the animals, that he took him and the animals to the nearest station-house.

Mr. John Atcheler, on being sworn, said that he was horse-slaughterer to Her Majesty and the Royal Family, and he resided in Sharpe's Square, Cow Cross, Smithfield. (A laugh.) He had no knowledge of the prisoner, and was satisfied in his own mind that the carcases were consigned to his establishment, which was well watered and kept as sweet as any lady's drawing-room. (Laughter.) His neighbour, Mr. Lansdowne, was a respectable man, and did not make the common sausages, but only those that were fit for the West End of the town. ( Much laughter. ) He meant the real German sausages, which were of the very best meat, mixed with a bit of "tommy'.

Mr. Mould (the clerk) : Do you mean Tommy the Cat?

Mr. Atcheler: Oh! no; a little bit of bull beef, which makes them more stiff, and more palatable - what Lord Brougham likes. (Laughter.)

The witness added that how the prisoner could have been intrusted with the care of a horse and cart and such goods was to him a puzzle, for he was as green as a leek.

Mr. Josiah Knight, veterinary surgeon, of St. Andrews Hill, Doctors Commons, deposed that the animals were not fit for human food. They had died from disease and had undergone medical treatment.

Mr. Tyrwhitt: I can only say that the parties on whose premises such carcases are found are liable to indictment.

Mr. Atcheler: I can only say, your worship, that if they boils 'em in my coppers, we are always obliged to put a little bull in it to make it sound and good, and stiff, too, for the canines. (Laughter.)

Mr Tyrwhitt said he must discharge the prisoner, but it was a matter of great importance at this period, when disease was caused through nauseous smells, and vapours, and such proceedings ought to be carefully watched.

[Herlock Sholmes]

Michael,

You really shouldn't get me started on this subject...

I've nabbed this from the Harrison, Barber thread on JTRF:


In his photo Jack Atcheler looks every inch the eminent Victorian. There's something Gladstonian about the square jaw and the steady eye, but press reports of his activities paint a somewhat different picture.

This example is from 1848, 4 years after the great man's dignity had been affronted by cries of "Sassengers", "Polonies", "Small Germans" and "Kidney Puddings" from the irreverent London crowd.



Interesting to Consumers of Sausages

At the Clerkenwell Police Office, on Thursday week, Mordecai Andrews, a countryman, was charged by a city policeman under the following circumstances :- At an early hour in the morning the prisoner was observed near Smithfield with a horse and cart, the latter containing two dead cows and a horse, and the most offensive effluvium proceeded from them. The policeman, suspecting they were meant for sausage meat, followed the prisoner until he arrived at the premises of Mr. Lansdowne, a sausage merchant of Sharpe's Alley, Cow Cross, where he backed the cart in, but Mr. Lansdowne told the party it was a mistake, and the carcases were not meant for him. The officer, knowing the dead carcases were not fit for human diet, questioned the prisoner, who hesitated, and gave such an unsatisfactory account of his possession of the animals, that he took him and the animals to the nearest station-house.

Mr. John Atcheler, on being sworn, said that he was horse-slaughterer to Her Majesty and the Royal Family, and he resided in Sharpe's Square, Cow Cross, Smithfield. (A laugh.) He had no knowledge of the prisoner, and was satisfied in his own mind that the carcases were consigned to his establishment, which was well watered and kept as sweet as any lady's drawing-room. (Laughter.) His neighbour, Mr. Lansdowne, was a respectable man, and did not make the common sausages, but only those that were fit for the West End of the town. ( Much laughter. ) He meant the real German sausages, which were of the very best meat, mixed with a bit of "tommy'.

Mr. Mould (the clerk) : Do you mean Tommy the Cat?

Mr. Atcheler: Oh! no; a little bit of bull beef, which makes them more stiff, and more palatable - what Lord Brougham likes. (Laughter.)

The witness added that how the prisoner could have been intrusted with the care of a horse and cart and such goods was to him a puzzle, for he was as green as a leek.

Mr. Josiah Knight, veterinary surgeon, of St. Andrews Hill, Doctors Commons, deposed that the animals were not fit for human food. They had died from disease and had undergone medical treatment.

Mr. Tyrwhitt: I can only say that the parties on whose premises such carcases are found are liable to indictment.

Mr. Atcheler: I can only say, your worship, that if they boils 'em in my coppers, we are always obliged to put a little bull in it to make it sound and good, and stiff, too, for the canines. (Laughter.)

Mr Tyrwhitt said he must discharge the prisoner, but it was a matter of great importance at this period, when disease was caused through nauseous smells, and vapours, and such proceedings ought to be carefully watched.

Are you sure this wasn’t from a Dickens novel Gary

[MrBarnett]

Are you sure this wasn’t from a Dickens novel Gary

Yes, old Jack would be perfect in a Dickens novel.

In fact Dickens wrote about Belle Isle, where Jack's yard was, on more than one occasion. In the press the yard was described as 'Jack Atcheler's Scent Bottle' on account of the stench emanating from it. The landlord of the local pub claimed that the atmosphere was so bad it tarnished his pewter pots and even discoloured the change in his pocket.

When Harrison was in charge two long articles about the yard appeared in Dickens's All The Year Round. Well worth a read.