The Ladies of Llangollen, Denbighshire, Wales

The ladies were Sarah Ponsonby and Eleanor Butler, who came originally from Kilkenny in Ireland, and lived a very unorthodox life together in Llangollen in Wales.  They were shunned by their families for most of their lives together.

They devoted their time to seclusion and the study of literature and languages and developing their estate and shared hobbies.

The Newby Hall Ferry Disaster, 1869

In February, 1869, a tragic accident claimed the lives of James Warriner, the gardener of Newby Hall near Boroughbridge in Yorkshire and his son Christopher Warriner, along with four prominent members of the York and Ainsty hunt. 

The other victims were, top to bottom in the following images, master of the hounds, Sir Charles Slingsby of Scriven Park near Knaresborough; Edward Lloyd of Lingcroft Lodge near York; Edmund Robinson of Thorpe Green and William Orvys, the kennel huntsman of Acomb and the hunt’s whipper-in for the day. 

 

 

 

The hunt got under way at eleven o’clock at Stainley House near Harrogate.  A short while later some hunters and horses chased a fox across a ford over the river, while the people who died, along with survivors of the resulting tragedy, headed for a ferry boat almost directly opposite Newby Hall.   James and Christopher Warriner from Skelton-on-Ure were in charge of the boat used that day to transport huntsmen and horses across the river Ure near Ripley.

Sir Charles Slingsby and his horse darted first into the boat, followed just as inelegantly by twice as many occupants as the boat was designed to carry.  Encumbered by a fast moving current and river swollen by heavy rain, the group made for the other side. 

About one third of the way across Sir Charles Slingsby’s horse kicked the mount belonging to Sir George Wombwell.  Wombwell’s horse returned the kick and caused other horses to panic and thrash around and lose their balance. 

The violent motion caused the boat to overturn, throwing its occupants into the water where the six men and eight horses died and some of the strongest swimmers escaped or were saved by spectators on the river banks.

Of the six men who died, only Charles Slingsby was seen to emerge from the water and begin swimming to safety, only to give up a short distance from the river bank.

An inquest returned a verdict of accidental death.

Walter Palmer, Lion Killer, and Edward, Prince of Wales

So the world stands aghast at Walter Palmer, a dentist from Minnesota who shot and left a lion to a slow and painful death. 

But Walter is not alone in deriving enjoyment from brutalising innocent, helpless victims like Cecil.  And at least Walter stood on his own two feet and put some energy into the kill.

Unlike the future King of England, then Edward, Prince of Wales who visited Chillingham Castle in Northumberland in 1872, at which time it was announced the Prince would commemorate his visit by killing the king bull of Chillingham’s celebrated herd. 

But unlike Walter who probably squared up to his victim, Edward lay covered in hay in a cart carrying food for the herd, waiting for helpers to bring the bull just close enough for Edward to commit the evil deed without breaking cover and risk being injured himself. 

At least Walter’s lion had some chance to retaliate and hopefully kill or disable his attacker.  And, yes, I am being sarcastic: cowardly Walter’s actions were inexcusable, though not quite so despicable as those of the future King of England.

An article in The Monthly Chronicle of North-Country Lore and Legend, published in 1889, tells us: ‘The plan, no doubt, was in accordance with courtly notions of safety, and was eminently calculated to secure the object in view; but it was scarcely a feat to warrant any unusual jubilation.  .....  A few hours after the tragedy, the carcase was brought from the scene of slaughter, and carefully deposited on the castle lawn.  The photographer was ready, the Prince not unwilling, and the result as shown in our sketch.’

That sketch is here for all to see: