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PRIDE AND PASSION
GOLD SKY SERIES
REBEL CARTER
VIOLET GAZE PRESS
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
Copyright © 2021 by Rebel Carter
Cover Design by Nail Qamber
Edited by Bria James
Published by Violet Gaze Press
20-22 Wenlock Rd
London
www.violetgazepress.com
Happy Christmas Brittany!
CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
THANK YOU!
EXCERPT: Rose and Samuel’s Story

About the Author


Also by Rebel Carter
CHAPTER 1

“D id you have time to consider the lesson plans for after


Christmas?”
Delilah nodded at her mother and held up a leather-
bound journal. “I did. Everything should be easy enough to plan, but
I will make a run to Yost’s after I double-check our supplies.”
“Good work, Del.” Her mother shot her a smile and stood from
her desk with a stretch. “I can hardly believe the addition to the
schoolhouse was completed in this weather.” Julie turned her head
looking through the open door at the back of the schoolhouse where
her new classroom was located. Her mother had given her an outline
and Delilah had done her bit filling in the gaps meant for her own
students. They shared the teaching duties in Gold Sky but had
recently had to divide the students into two separate age groups,
with Delilah taking the younger children as her pupils. Both groups
came with their own particular challenges and joys. Delilah grew
fonder of each student with every passing day. She understood now
why her mother had chosen to teach, how the allure of a classroom
full of young hearts and minds was enough to draw her to the
frontier.
Though she supposed love had also done its own fair share to
motivate her mother to make the move.
“Neither can I, but you know how the town gets when there’s a
need to be filled,” Delilah said, and her mother hummed in knowing.
“There is nothing they won’t do,” she said, turning and tugging
on her coat with a shrug of her shoulders. “It is one of the reasons I
adore this town and I always have.” The women crossed the room to
the doors where their scarves, gloves, and hats were awaiting them
on hooks.
The men of the town had come together in a way that was
heroic, even for Gold Sky, and finished the new room in the throes of
winter. It might have been foolhardy but the newest arrivals to Gold
Sky came with children and trying to fit more than thirty within the
walls of the school had been a feat. Delilah made a note to write
thank yous to each and every one of the men who had given their
time and deliver them that week. Perhaps, she could even bake
something to include with her note of thanks. It was the season
after all for a well-earned sweet.
“You chose well when you moved here, mama. There is no other
place I can imagine as home than Gold Sky.”
“I know dear, that is why I am so pleased you chose to teach
alongside me.” Julie held the door open for them and the women
walked out into the wintery afternoon. Delilah frowned, turning her
face up at the rapidly darkening sky. It was scarcely after four that
afternoon and yet here darkness was coming to swallow up the
landscape she knew so well. A pond, smooth and perfect with ice
not yet hard enough to skate on was off in the distance to the right.
Beyond that, the outskirts of the town sprung up, cabins and small
well-kept houses on the lane that led into town. In front of them,
the familiar shape of the buildings standing stark against the bleak
sky signaled Gold Sky proper. Already Del could see the lights of the
town coming to life, pushing back against the falling twilight. She
knew that if she went into town there would be no shortage of
activity there. She could hear the telltale sound of the train whistle
signaling more arrivals.
These days it seemed there was no end to the migration to Gold
Sky. They would need another room for the school if things
continued on. Delilah said nothing of that to her mother who she
knew would agree with her and begin planning immediately for it.
Julie Baptiste had always been a doer. Even after raising four
daughters to womanhood she had lost none of the energy she’d
brought with her from New York City all those years ago. So rather
than share her observations Delilah was content to turn left at the
lane and walk with her mother to their home. This route wound
away from the town and out into the less populated land to their
homestead. Open plains stretched out across the horizon until the
foothills rose up, finally giving way to the mountains beyond.
It was a beautiful sight and Delilah counted her blessings for
growing up in plain view of it.
“Will you be up for delivering a batch of thank yous to the men
who worked on the addition?” Julie asked her and Delilah nodded.
“Yes, mama. I’d already planned to do so later this week. I
thought I might bake something for each of them as well,” she said.
“That’s a splendid idea, dear. And you know there was a little
something I thought you could do as well,” her mother replied.
There was a tone in her voice that hadn’t been there before. It was
one that Delilah had learned to recognize when her mother was
planning, or scheming, as her Daddy referred to it. She turned now
giving her mother a curious look and watched the older woman
fidget.
Yes, maybe Daddy was right. Scheming seemed the right word
for what was going on in her mother’s mind.
“Thank you, but what is this idea you have?”
“Oh, it’s just a small thing, really.”
“How small?”
“Oh, so minuscule it’s hardly even a thing at all, Del.”
“Mama…”
Julie pushed her full lips out before she sighed and then turned
to look at her daughter. “Well, there is a young man in town that I
feel merits far more than a baked sweet.”
“Oh, is there?” Delilah asked, suddenly on guard. This could not
be good. Her mother scarcely took an interest in mentioning men to
her daughters, but she knew a scheme when she saw it, and this
was decidedly that.
“Yes, and he was just so helpful. He is very new to town, dear.
He scarcely knows a soul, and it is the holidays after all. A meal
delivered is the very least we can do for the poor thing. Don’t you
agree?” Her mother was looking at her now expectantly in a way she
knew well. She’d seen it on Florence, her younger sister, enough to
know that she was in for nothing short of a disaster if she should
choose to do anything but agree.
“Yes...I suppose it is the least we can do. Who is this man,
mama?” Delilah asked when she could think of no other way to
proceed.
“Elliot Meyers.”
“The banker from Boston?” Delilah tilted her head to the side and
laughed, the sound of it escaping her lips before she could stop
herself. “The man is hardly a poor thing, mama!” she exclaimed, still
laughing. Since he had arrived only a few months earlier the man
had positively sent the women of town into a tizzy. He was, she
thought, the most eligible bachelor in all the county. He was wealthy,
educated, charming, in possession of a steady job that did not place
him in danger, and quite handsome—even Delilah had been hard-
pressed not to notice it when he had taken an interest in her oldest
sister.
“Yes, the banker. He was such a hard worker during the building
of the addition, and did you know he is unattached?”
Ah, so her mother would not even attempt to hide her
matchmaking scheme then. Delilah drew in a breath reminiscent of
her fathers when her mother took to such tactics and feigned
ignorance when Julie fixed her with an expectant look.
“Mama, what are you trying to do?” she asked, keeping her voice
light.
Julie held her hands out and shook her head. “I do not know
what you mean, Delilah. I am simply doing my Christian duty to see
that one of our community is fed and welcomed properly.”
“And you feel that taking dinner to Mister Meyers is the way to do
it?”
“Yes. It must be you that takes it.”
“And why is that? I feel that any of my sisters taking it would be
just as good. Why must it be me?” Delilah pressed. If her mother
was going to be heavy-handed in her scheme of matchmaking, then
Delilah much preferred to force her mother into admitting her
intentions. It would make her life far easier than having to dance
round Julie’s efforts to push Delilah and Mister Meyers together.
Her mother crossed her arms and gave her daughter a sidelong
look. “Did you miss the part where I informed you the gentleman is
available? He has been in town since the early autumn but has
chosen no lady to share his time and company with.”
“You mean since Seylah?”
Her mother nearly stumbled at that. “Delilah!”
“Well, it’s true, mama. I am simply pointing out that the
gentleman in question had an interest in my older sister. Do you not
think it...unseemly to introduce the younger since she refused him?”
The words were pointed, but only just. There was a part of Delilah
that had wished the man had taken an interest in her, but that was
primarily born of the knowledge that Seylah and August had always
been meant to be, even if the two had been foolish enough to fight
it she had known they would end up together. Everyone had known
it.
Though she might have quite gotten past that if Mister Meyers
had noticed her in the months since his dalliance with her sister.
Elliot had not, even as they crossed the other’s path regularly. Now
her mother was proposing she practically serve herself up to the
man with dinner. She blanched at the thought. He might find it
desperate, which she was not, even if she had not a single interest
in any other man in town. Not that she had an interest in Elliot
Meyers. At all.
And even if she did, she was not desperate.
Delilah knew she was pretty. She favored her fathers in the best
ways with gray eyes she’d been complimented on often, a profile
she’d been told was regal as any gentle lady could hope for with
high cheekbones and full lips. Her skin was tan, lovely, and dark.
There was no color she could not wear to full flattery, and she often
did when the mood suited her. Then there was the matter of her
dark hair, curly and thick, so much like her mother’s, just as her
stature was, tall, wide-hipped and soft in ways she was well-aware
pulled more than one admiring look.
But for all of these advantages, Delilah had no desire to use them
to capture Elliot Meyer’s attention. Even though she knew him to be
kind. He had seen the attraction between her sister Seylah and her
now-fiancée-once-best-friend-always-a-fool August and stepped
aside with nothing but the kindest of wishes. She had admired him
then but had shrugged off her attraction to the man for two reasons:
he had taken an interest in her sister first and every single woman in
Gold Sky had fallen for him. Both of these reasons were more than
enough for her to forget Elliot Meyer’s existence. She was friendly
and civil but nothing more.
Julie scoffed. “It is not unseemly, and even if anyone thought
that it was, you should know that our family does not care about
what others find unseemly.”
“This plan of yours, this scheme,” Del said, making her mother
roll her eyes at her, “is not the same as what you, Papa and Daddy
have found together.”
“That is beside the point.”
“If there are no similarities, then we cannot compare.”
Julie groaned and turned her face skyward. “What have I done to
raise you in this manner? You are nearly a litigator when it comes to
the discussion of an introduction to an eligible bachelor.”
“I am nothing if not my mother’s daughter,” Delilah agreed with a
laugh while her mother shook her head.
“No, this is all your Daddy’s doing. He’s so sour sometimes. You
have his severity,” Julie told her with a wag of her finger. “Listen to
me, Delilah, I wish for you to stay in this place. I want you to remain
in Gold Sky with me, with our family. But you have shown no interest
in anyone. How can I hope to keep you here with me if you do not
find your other half?”
Delilah stopped short. Their home was now in view, the path to
their door only a minute or so away but she went not a step further
and turned towards her mother.
“Why would I need a partner to stay in Gold Sky?”
“You’ve told me you wish for a family.”
“Who says that wishes cannot change?”
Julie’s brow furrowed and she gave a slight shake of her head.
“No—you should not settle, Delilah. You wish for a family and that is
what you shall have. I will not have you staying here at the cost of
sacrificing your heart’s desire.”
Delilah shook her head. “Mother it is not sacrificing my heart’s
desire to remain close to my family and in the only place I have ever
known to be home.” She linked their arms together with a sigh. “I
understand what you are trying to do, but please know that I will
never leave this place, or you, in search of a companion. I am quite
amenable to continue on as I have. It is a good life.”
Julie made a displeased sound in the back of her throat. “You
should never settle, Delilah. You know how I feel about settling.
None of you girls were raised to do such a thing.”
They were walking now towards the door and Delilah could see
her sisters behind the parlor windows. Rose was at the piano
playing, she could see Florence dancing, arms outstretched and
Seylah was sitting in one of her father’s rocking chairs beside the
hearth oiling one of her revolvers. It was a pretty picture. One of a
family that she cherished deeply. They would not all be together for
much longer, not with Rose aiming to leave for New York with her
Aunt and Uncle. Not with Seylah and Florence’s impending
marriages. She knew why her mother worried she would look
elsewhere for someone to share her life with. Gold Sky had provided
none as of yet.
“I know, mama.”
“And that is why we must introduce you—” she held up a hand
when Delilah looked fit to protest and kept on speaking, “properly to
the young gentleman. I think you will find that the two of you are far
more compatible than you realize.”
They were now at the front door and she could hear her sisters’
voices mingled with the music of Rose’s piano. A hearty laugh told
her that her fathers were home early. Her home was full, just as her
heart was, and though her mother was insistent on her making
Mister Meyers acquaintance, Delilah could not understand it.
Even so Delilah nodded in agreement. “Since you are so very
intent that I meet the young man, I will agree to take one meal to
him.”
Julie brightened at that and clapped her hands gleefully. “Oh, I
am so glad you’ve said that because I have quite the feast planned,
and I do believe that it should be best served over the course of
several days and—”
“Mama, that was not the agreement,” Delilah interrupted. She
held up one finger, opening the door to their home as she did so.
“One meal. There will be no course over several days.”
Her mother pouted. “But why not?”
Delilah sighed and shook her head. “Because Mama that’s why.”
“Because what?” Will asked, entering from the dining room. He
was eating a biscuit and looking at them curiously.
“Yes, what?” Forrest asked, poking his head out into the hallway
as well, making Julie jump.
“How do you both keep appearing like that? When did you get
home? I thought you were both doing rounds?” She asked.
Will shrugged. “Rounds got cut short.”
“You’re only jumpy, Julie when you’re scheming,” Forrest added,
sipping from the coffee mug he carried.
“I am not scheming,” Julie protested.
“She is so,” Delilah told her fathers, earning her a sigh from her
mother.
“Tattle tale,” she whispered to Del.
Forrest gestured towards them with his mug. “What’s the play?”
he asked, giving his wife a knowing look when she crossed her arms.
“There is no play,” Julie replied easily, but it was plain to see the
men did not believe her. Will leaned against the wall and tsk’d while
Forrest chuckled.
“She aims to marry me off to Mister Meyers,” Delilah told them
plainly. There was no use in dragging it out. Her mother had
matchmaking plans; Delilah didn’t intend to suffer them in silence. It
was at her words that the piano playing came to an abrupt halt with
a yelp from Rose.
“I heard that!” she cried.
“As did I!” Florence hollered, and already she heard her sisters on
the move, their footsteps heavy in the now silent house. Seylah did
not yell her acknowledgement but she did appear in the doorway all
the same.
“Marry you off?” Will gasped, eyes that mirrored Delilah’s going
wide. Forrest simply choked on his coffee and leaned forward,
bracing a hand on the wall beside him while his husband thumped
him on the back to help him regain his breath.
Delilah nodded. “Yes.”
Julie threw up her hands. “Oh, it is only supper I am asking you
to deliver to the gentleman. Don’t make such a fuss now.”
Rose laughed. “Mama…”
“What?”
Florence wagged her finger at her mother. “You are scheming. Do
not deny it.”
“They’re right, mama,” Seylah chimed in.
“No one lets me have a bit of fun in this home,” Julie growled.
Delilah grinned at that and reached out, giving her mother a
quick hug. “Mama, I said I would take the one meal, but,” she pulled
back to give the older woman a serious look, “just the one meal. You
must swear it.”
Julie was silent for a moment, her eyes moving from her
daughter to her husbands who looked fit to be tied. She gave a
slight nod of her head. “Oh all right. Just the one then.” She leaned
close and gave Delilah a quick kiss to her cheek. “But if it is just the
one meal, then it must be perfect. I have much to plan!”
Her fathers groaned, their expressions pitiful and she felt sorry
for them because she understood how they felt. “Why is she dead
set on emptying the house of our girls?” Will muttered with a sour
face. “Do you like these changes?” he asked, looking at Forrest.
“I don’t like it,” he conceded.
“Neither do I,” she whispered to them, but she relaxed even as
her mother hurried off with Florence and Rose trailing after her. Of
course they would want to take part in the meal planning and
discuss the details of how to better orchestrate Delilah and Mister
Meyers’ first true meeting. That was acceptable. One meal she could
do. One meal would do nothing, could mean nothing, to a man she
did not know. It would be quick, just a mere dropping off at his
doorstep the way she might to someone who had fallen ill. There
would be a hello and a murmur of thanks, but beyond that nothing
else. She was sure of it.
CHAPTER 2

D elilah stared at herself in the mirror. She was decked out in


her finest attire, a pale blue dress with delicate stitching at
the collar. She wore a wool coat over the top. Del pulled at
her cuff and sighed when her mother thrust a pair of gloves towards
her.
“Gloves, mother?” she asked.
“Yes. A lady always wears gloves when in the presence of a
newly made male acquaintance.”
“But that is so formal, mama.”
“It must be so, Delilah. That is how you set yourself apart from
the women of the town. They have all quite forgotten the rules of
society and courtship. Mister Elliot is accustomed to women
behaving…well, conducting themselves differently, and he will notice
that you have done so.”
“But he took a shine to Seylah and she has never done anything
that was proper.”
Her mother stopped short and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You
are right. Maybe Mister Elliot does not seek a proper lady.” She
hummed and nodded. “I approve of him even more.”
Delilah wiggled her fingers at her mother. “Then may I take these
off?” She only wore gloves to formal events and Church. She felt
overdressed for such a small errand as taking a meal to a man she
did not know.
“Leave them, dear. They look lovely on you and do go perfectly
with your outfit.” She moved closer then and added a pin to the
updo Delilah’s curls were arranged in. “You look so beautiful the man
will not be able to resist asking you to accompany him to one of the
holiday parties this week, or the next. I know it.”
“I will say no if he does,” Delilah told her.
Her mother scowled. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Because as I told you, I have no wish to begin anything
romantic with Mister Meyers.” Even as she said the words, they felt
all wrong in her mouth. “I am quite fine alone as I am.”
“Delilah…” her mother sighed at her and Delilah did not miss the
note of frustration in her voice. She knew her mother was upset with
her, but Delilah had agreed to fulfill the errand of taking one meal
and that was precisely what she would do. Even if her mother had
her dressed in the clothing normally reserved for a trip to New York.
Her grandmother had brought this particular set back from Paris just
the year before. It would be out of fashion in Europe by now, but
here? Here it was resplendent with its tiny pearl buttons and delicate
lace detailing at the front of the coat.
This coat was going to tell Mister Meyers all he needed to know
about her bringing him a meal. This was not normal Gold Sky attire,
and the man would know it.
“Mama…” Delilah began, mirroring her before she reached out
and picked up the covered platter her mother had brought out
earlier. “I will do as I said I would and deliver this meal,” she gave it
a sidelong look because she hadn’t the first clue what it was. Her
mother had put it together, covered it, and laid it on the table beside
them with a happy smile. “Whatever it is...and I will return home
after I have completed the errand.”
“I have ensured that the man will be impressed by the meal,”
Julie told her with a satisfied nod. When her daughter gave her a
dubious look, she raised her hands. “I did not prepare it. I sent for
it. Only the finest that Mrs. Lily was able to do on such short notice.”
“Short notice? Mama, you first came up with this plan two days
ago. What meal did you think of that Mrs. Lily needed to send for
ingredients from Butte?”
“We are trying to make a favorable impression on the only man
that I have seen you take notice of Del.”
“Oh fine.”
Julie grinned and moved past her into the foyer. She opened the
door and gestured her daughter through the doorway. “Very good
then. I will see you after you deliver Mister Meyers’ meal. I cannot
wait to hear all the wonderful details!”
Del wanted to grumble but she did not. It was a futile endeavor.
She leaned close, kissing her mother’s cheek on her way past and
began the trek towards Gold Sky proper where she had been
informed, in great detail, of just where Elliot Meyers had taken up
residence. He had rented a small but comfortable home just off the
bustling main avenue of town. Delilah was glad he had not taken to
one of the boarding houses. That would have made her visit
common knowledge if she were seen entering the boarding house
and inquiring after the gentleman. Though as it were...she was
earning her fair share of looks from townsfolk. They were not used
to seeing her dressed the way she was. Delilah did not shy away
from pretty things and clothing that pleased her, but it was never
this fine.
This was clothing meant to catch a man’s eye which was
precisely why her Maman had been the one to purchase it for her,
and not Delilah herself. She was used to practical but pretty things.
Things that were proper for the schoolhouse and life on the frontier,
all of it durable.
She frowned and tugged on her skirt. “How does Florence
manage to live like this?” she whispered to herself. Her sister adored
over the top fashion and frippery and she moved about town in it
with such ease that one would think she floated. Delilah was already
regretting her decision to allow her mother to pick her clothing. The
close-fitting skirt restricted her steps so much that she swore the
journey to Mister Elliot’s residence took her double the time. She
glanced down at her fine leather boots; they were not meant to walk
in the type of slushy mud she was in now.
“Hello, Delilah!” She looked up when Pastor Bruce waved a hand
at her. “A beautiful afternoon for a walk, isn’t it?”
“Hello Pastor,” she greeted on her way past. “It is.” She was lying,
of course. It was freezing and she wished for nothing more than to
retreat back into her warm home.
“Miss Delilah!” A student shrieked and she jumped, the covered
platter in her hands jostling precariously as she did so. Thankfully,
the child was in the back of a wagon that showed no signs of
slowing and a moment later they were lost in the crush of people
going about their business. Delilah cleared her throat and hoped that
she too would melt into the crowd. But it seemed as if the universe
was conspiring with her mother against her. She was greeted no less
than five times by those that recognized her.
“Miss Wickes-Barnes.” A nod and hat tip from a student’s father
had her waving weakly. The closer she got to Mister Meyers’ home
the more she was being noticed.
“This will not do,” she sighed, but thankfully she saw the small
row house ahead of her. It was neat and tidy with blue shutters and
whitewashed clapboard. There was a small, raised porch at the front
of it. Delilah thought it was sweet looking, as were the empty flower
boxes she spied hanging off the side of the porch railing. They were
barren now but would be a lovely splash of color that would make
the residence not simply a lodging, but a home.
It would not be a place to simply pass through. The person that
planted flowers there would be a person that put down roots and
meant to make Gold Sky home. She didn’t know if Elliot Meyers had
any intentions on planting anything that bloomed in those little
flower boxes, but she prayed that he would.
If there was any justice in the world, he would be a man that
sought to add color and hominess to the place she loved so well.
Delilah approached the porch and took a fortifying breath. She could
do this. She would simply knock, introduce herself, and perhaps
extend an invitation to...well, she didn’t know what, but she would
do it so that she could answer her mother truthfully when
questioned about it.
She shifted, balancing the platter in one hand and raised her
hand to knock on the door, all the while encouraging herself to do
so. “You can do this. You are charming and witty and—”
The door flew open. Delilah’s mouth froze mid positive mantra,
and she stared at her still raised fist that had scarcely made a move
to knock when the door had opened to reveal a smiling Elliot
Meyers.
It was a good smile. Her breath caught at the handsome man’s
face, his warm coffee-colored eyes sparkling as he looked at her. The
setting sun was catching in his chestnut hair setting off highlights of
burnished red and light brown working to warm his entire
countenance. He was open and welcoming broad shoulders filling
the doorway to capacity, nearly a head above her. He was dressed
casually, as if he had just arrived home and was eager to relax, his
dress shirt rolled to his elbow, waist coat loosened and his hair
showing signs that he had run his hands through it more than once.
“You’re early then and—” he stopped, words cutting off and that
smile she had just glimpsed vanished without warning. Delilah felt
bereft in its absence and she blinked in surprise at the sudden loss
of it. It was as if the sun had gone behind the clouds and she
shivered as a gust of wintry wind blew past her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors.” He drew himself up
quickly, back going ramrod straight. She hated that he was working
to button his waistcoat while giving her an apologetic look. She did
not want him to put himself back together. No, she wanted the man
that had just been in front of her.
“It is I who should apologize,” Delilah rushed, giving him a
remorseful smile. “You had no warning of my visit. I thought you
might be in need of a meal.”
He blinked in surprise. “A meal?”
“Ah, yes,” Delilah held up the platter and then when she could
think of nothing else thrust it forward into his hands, “here it is. A
welcome to Gold Sky meal,” she said when he gave her another
confused look.
“I’ve been here for two months,” he told her, but he took the
platter all the same. “This is...unexpected at this time.”
“I beg your pardon?” She hadn’t expected that. What did he
mean by that?
“Was there a reason the lady has waited thusly to make her
introduction? One would think it a slight to have waited this long.”
Her cheeks flushed because the man was right. Usually such
friendly overtures were done in a timely manner and two months,
even on the frontier, was pushing the limits of expected etiquette.
“I–well, I mean that–” Delilah floundered, but knew not what to say.
In her mother’s plans and Del’s musings there had never been the
possibility that Elliot Meyers would feel slighted by her absence, or
that he would notice it even. Though...it wasn’t as if he had made
an effort to make her acquaintance either, and Delilah had the
presence of mind to inform him of such.
“You never made yourself amenable to a welcome either.”
He pursed his lips. “There was hardly a moment when the lady
was welcoming.”
Delilah was unable to stop her gasp. “Are you insinuating that I
have been unfriendly since your arrival because? I will have you
know that I have been perfectly civil,” she told him and then her
hands went to her hips, “and I have been available on more than
one occasion if the gentleman had sought to look away from his
gaggle of admirers.”
That stopped him short, and Elliot snapped his mouth shut but it
was not without effort as he smiled at her again and then, because
he was a brute, he laughed. Delilah truly hated that his laugh rivaled
the warm sunshine of his smile, and she hated it even more that she
liked his laugh doubly as much as she liked his smile.
“What’s so comical?” she asked, trying to keep her softening
towards him out of her voice.
“I notice the lady took care with her words. Civil,” he said,
crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest, “is not nice, nor is
it welcoming.”
“There is nothing wrong with civil. It is perfectly...well, it is--”
“Civil?” he asked.
“Yes, which is precisely how a lady is to act with a man she does
not know. A man that she had gone out of her way to bring a decent
meal to, out of the goodness of her heart, only to have it thrown in
her face.”
“I have merely pointed out the situation and—”
“Elliot!”
They both turned at the sudden shout. It was a shout from a
woman and Delilah raised her eyebrows at Elliot Meyers. Hadn’t he
just been lecturing her on her behavior but now he had a woman
shouting his name from the street? The woman was pretty, blond
and green-eyed, lithe in ways Delilah was not and nearly as tall as
the man in front of her. She was dressed prettily enough. Not so fine
as Delilah, but it did not seem to matter from the warm welcome
she was receiving from Elliot.
Curious that.
“Belinda, there you are. Hello.” All the ire in Elliot Meyers’ voice
dropped and he was suddenly all sunshine and warmth again. He
aimed a smile at the woman and Delilah suddenly realized it had
been this woman he had thought her to be.
Oh no.
She winced and turned her face away from them. She had to find
a way out of this sticky situation, but the woman was there bustling
up the stairs to stand beside her on the porch with a bright smile.
“Aren’t you one of the Wickes-Barnes’ girls?”
Delilah chafed at the word girl. She was twenty-one after all, but
she nodded all the same. “I am. Pleased to make your
acquaintance,” she held out her hand and shook the woman’s hand.
“Delilah Wickes-Barnes.”
“Pleased to meet you! I’m Belinda Tally. Oh, I’ve been hoping to
meet one of ya! I was just telling Elliot over dinner yesterday that it
—” she stopped speaking and looked at the platter in his hands and
then back to Delilah, “are you joining us for dinner?”
Delilah wanted to flee. This woman was certainly his expected
guest. A woman he meant to have dinner with, the woman he had
greeted with a smile and disheveled hair.
Christ Almighty. What was she doing here and dressed as she
was? She gave Belinda a thin smile. “No, no, I simply came to wish
well. Please enjoy the meal. Good evening to the both of you.”
Delilah bobbed her head in a farewell and before either of them
could say a word she moved, hurrying off the porch, down the stairs
and into the road where she made for the main avenue as if her life
depended on it. It was only when she hit the busy thoroughfare that
she was able to breath and made straight for Mrs. Lily’s where she
ordered a cup of mint tea to soothe her nerves and recover her
pride.
It seemed her mother had been wrong on one very important
detail: Mister Elliot Meyers had indeed found a woman to spend his
time with.
CHAPTER 3

“W hat do you mean you got into an argument with the


man?” Her mother cried, hands going to cover her
mouth. “When you did not arrive home immediately, I had hoped
you two had shared the meal, perhaps gone for a walk! But a
shouting match? No, never that. How has this happened?”
The lapse in time from her departure to her arrival back home
was spent in Mrs. Lily’s sipping tea and trying her best to keep
herself from doing the thing her family swore she did better than
anything: brood.
But she rather thought her interaction with Mister Meyers
warranted a good brood.
“Exactly as I have told you,” Delilah replied, looking down at the
newspaper in front of her. “He’s a beast that man is.”
“He is not,” Seylah muttered from where she sat beside the
fireplace. She was working on darning socks and shook her head at
her sister. “He’s a gentle soul with a kind heart.”
“Yes, to you. He thought to court you, or have you forgotten?”
“Why would he not wish the same with you?” her sister asked.
“Let’s not get into the particulars of how very different we are,”
Delilah replied, and when Seylah made to speak again she continued
on. “And never mind that. The man is already courting another
woman. Which made his consternation at my late greeting both
confusing and infuriating. That man is abominable.”
“There is no woman.” Julie waved her hands at her daughter. “I
assure you of that.”
“Then who was the woman arriving for dinner?” The woman he
smiled like the sun for, Delilah wanted to say but she kept that quiet.
“They were familiar, very, very familiar, I can assure you.”
“They could just be friends, as August and I were,” Seylah
offered helpfully, but Delilah snorted.
“You two are in love and have been since you were children.”
Her sister considered her words and shrugged. “Yes, but we were
friends all the same.”
“Seylah…” Julie rubbed at her temples and gave her daughter a
meaningful look. “Dear, you are not helping us convince your sister
of the truth.”
“Sorry, mama.”
“They are courting,” Delilah insisted, ignoring the pair of them. “I
know what I saw.”
“No, there’s no way they can be. Rosemary assured me was
unattached and you know if she speaks it then it is gospel. She
knows all in this town. She confirmed it to me just this afternoon
after a visit she made special to the bank to ensure we were
thoroughly prepared.”
Delilah’s mouth dropped open. “You had Mrs. Rosemary spying
for us?”
“It is not spying. She is taking a healthy interest in your life.”
“Oh my god.”
“Any mother would do the same. Mrs. Rosemary has such reliable
information. You know that she has her finger on the pulse of Gold
Sky, so who better to advise?”
Delilah stood with a snap of the paper she had been reading and
she folded it with a frown. “Mama, I love you but right now I am
quite frustrated by your designs for my love life.”
“You are being blind to a good match,” her mother sighed.
“And you are being blind to the fact that the man is already
taken. He had a woman who was occupying his time and energy,
and I will not be able to sway him,” she held up her newspaper
when her mother looked interested at that, “even if I wanted to,
which I do not.”
Seylah snorted from her seat and she fixed her sister with a
glare. “What do you have to add?”
“I find it curious that you are so energetic in your denial of your
feelings for Elliot.”
“There are no feelings. I have no connection to him to have even
formed feelings,” Delilah spluttered.
Her sister raised one shoulder in a shrug and looked up from her
work at her. “Feelings can be formed at a distance. I know that you
noticed the man. We all have noticed your interest in the man lately,
why do you think mama decided to get involved with her little
errand?”
“What do you mean all have noticed? Who is this all?”
“Well, everyone. It is that plain.”
“Are you saying that—that you, when you say everyone—that the
family,” Seylah nodded and Delilah decided to take it one step
further, “that all the town?” again Seylah nodded, and Delilah felt
faint. “You have all taken this to mind?”
“Yes, that’s the measure of it.”
“Oh dear god,” Delilah groaned, and she raised the paper,
covering her face. “That means they all suspected where I went
dressed so fine and why they all called to me. They knew that I
meant to go to Elliot’s home!”
“Oh, so now he is Elliot? I thought you hardly knew the man,”
Seylah asked.
“Calling him thusly in the comfort of our home is preferable to
simply calling him that damnable man, but I can do that if you
insist.”
“No, I quite like Elliot. It has a very natural sound coming from
your mouth,” her mother added moving to sit at the settee looking
pleased. Why she looked pleased, Delilah squeezed her hands,
crumpling the newspaper with a frustrated growl.
“Mama, I do not like these games, and I can see you have more
in mind by the look on your face.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Julie sipped serenely from a cup
of tea. They looked at one another and there was no mistaking the
battle of wills taking place. Seylah swallowed and sank lower in her
seat at the sight of it.
“Perhaps, I should be going…” she began, hastily gathering her
things but her sister spoke as if she had not heard and Seylah opted
for silently staying where she sat.
“You do know what I mean. While I have no idea where your
mind takes you where Elliot and I are concerned, the gentleman is
most assuredly not available or the object of my interest despite
what you and the entire town have made their mind up to see. What
I do know is that I will not stand for it. I will not participate in any
more of your match-making schemes. The one was enough, and I
ask that you respect that, mama.”
Her mother was silent for a moment, but the sparkle had not
gone from her eyes when she dipped her chin and said, “I
understand, darling. Just the one outright scheme.”
She had not expected it to go that well, but she would take her
wins where she could get them, even if they were small, and nodded
at her mother in thanks.
“Thank you,” Delilah gestured at herself with the newspaper and
cleared her throat, “well, I am going to go upstairs and get out of
this--” her mother narrowed her eyes at her, and she quickly
changed course on her opinion pertaining to her wardrobe, “lovely
outfit and get ready for supper.”
“No brooding. It makes you sour,” Julie advised but Delilah
merely rolled her eyes and made for the steps.
“I learned it from Daddy,” she tossed over her shoulder on her
way out of the room.
“Yes, I know. He is sour too.”
Delilah laughed but said nothing more. There was no more talk
of schemes and that was a victory she welcomed. Anyone who knew
her mother understood this would not be the end of it, no matter
what her mother swore. It simply meant that whatever came next
would be far more creative than she was able to comprehend at the
moment. That worried Delilah a great deal. Even so, she left the
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Title: Repton and its neighbourhood


a descriptive guide of the archæology, &c. of the district

Author: F. C. Hipkins

Release date: September 21, 2023 [eBook #71701]

Language: English

Original publication: Repton: A.J. Lawrence, 1899

Credits: MWS and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at


https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
images generously made available by The Internet
Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REPTON


AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD ***
Plate 1.

Repton Church.
REPTON
AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD:
A DESCRIPTIVE GUIDE OF
THE ARCHÆOLOGY, &c., OF THE DISTRICT.

Illustrated by Photogravures, &c.

BY
F. C. HIPKINS, M.A., F.S.A.,
ASSISTANT MASTER AT REPTON SCHOOL.

SECOND EDITION.

A. J. LAWRENCE, PRINTER, REPTON.


MDCCCXCIX.

REPTON:
A. J. LAWRENCE, PRINTER.
PREFACE.
In the year 1892, I ventured to write, for Reptonians, a short History
of Repton, its quick sale emboldened me to set about obtaining
materials for a second edition. The list of Authors, &c., consulted
(printed at the end of this preface), will enable any one, who wishes
to do so, to investigate the various events further, or to prove the
truth of the facts recorded. Round the Church, Priory, and School
centre all that is interesting, and, naturally, they occupy nearly all the
pages of this second attempt to supply all the information possible to
those who live in, or visit our old world village, whose church, &c.,
might well have served the poet Gray as the subject of his Elegy.

“Beneath those rugged Elms, that Yew-tree’s shade,


Where heaves the Turf in many a mould’ring Heap,
Each in his narrow Cell for ever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the Hamlet sleep.”

In writing the history of Repton certain events stand out more


prominently than others, e. g., the Conversion of Mercia by Diuma,
its first bishop, and his assistant missionaries, Adda, Betti, and
Cedda, the brother of St. Chad: the Founding of the Monastery
during the reign of Peada or his brother Wulphere (a.d. 655-675): the
coming of the Danes in 874, and the destruction of the Abbey and
town by them: the first building of Repton Church, probably during
the reign of Edgar the Peaceable, a.d. 957: the Founding of the
Priory by Maud, Countess of Chester, about the year 1150, its
dissolution in 1538, its destruction in 1553, and the Founding of the
School in 1557. Interwoven with these events are others which have
been recorded in the Chronicles, Histories, Registers, &c., consulted,
quoted, and used to produce as interesting an account as possible of
those events, which extend over a period of nearly twelve hundred
and fifty years!
The hand of time, and man, especially the latter, has gradually
destroyed anything ancient, and “restorations” have completely
changed the aspect of the village. The Church, Priory, Hall, and
“Cross,” still serve as links between the centuries, but, excepting
these, only one old house remains, in Well Lane, bearing initials
“T.S.” and date “1686.”
Even the Village Cross was restored! Down to the year 1806, the
shaft was square, with square capital, in which an iron cross was
fixed. In Bigsby’s History of Repton, (p. 261), there is a drawing of it,
and an account of its restoration, by the Rev. R. R. Rawlins.
During the last fifteen years the old house which stood at the
corner, (adjoining Mr. Cattley’s house,) in which the “Court Leet” was
held, and the “round-house” at the back of the Post Office, with its
octagonal-shaped walls and roof, and oak door, studded with iron
nails, have also been destroyed.
The consequence is that the History of Repton is chiefly
concerned with ancient and mediæval times.
The Chapters on the Neighbourhood of Repton have been added
in the hope that they may prove useful to those who may wish to
make expeditions to the towns and villages mentioned. More might
have been included, and more written about them, the great difficulty
was to curtail both, and at the same time make an interesting, and
intelligible record of the chief points of interest in the places
described.
In conclusion, I wish to return thanks to those who by their advice,
and information have helped me, especially the Rev. J. Charles Cox,
LL.D., Author of “Derbyshire Churches,” &c., J. T. Irvine, Esq., and
Messrs. John Thompson and Sons who most kindly supplied me
with plans of Crypt, and Church, made during the restorations of
1885-6.
For the many beautiful photographs, my best thanks are due to
Miss M. H. Barham, W. B. Hawkins, Esq., and C. B. Hutchinson,
Esq., and others.
BOOKS, Etc., CONSULTED or
QUOTED.
Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, (Rolls Series).
Bassano, Francis. Church Notes, (1710).
Bede, Venerable. Ecclesiastical History.
Bigsby, Rev. Robert. History of Repton, (1854).
Birch, W. de Gray. Memorials of St. Guthlac.
Browne, (Right Rev. Bishop of Bristol). Conversion of the
Heptarchy.
Cox, Rev. J. Charles. Churches of Derbyshire.
Derbyshire Archæological Journal, (1879-98).
Eckenstein, Miss Lina. Women under Monasticism.
Diocesan Histories, (S.P.C.K).
Dugdale. Monasticon.
Evesham, Chronicles of, (Rolls Series).
Gentleman’s Magazine.
Glover, S. History of Derbyshire, (1829).
Green, J. R. Making of England.
Ingulph. History.
Leland. Collectanea.
Lingard. Anglo-Saxon Church.
Lysons. Magna Britannia, (Derbyshire), (1817).
Paris, Matthew. Chronicles, (Rolls Series).
Pilkington, J. “A View of the Present State of Derbyshire,”
(1789).
Repton Church Registers.
Repton School Register.
Searle, W. G. Onomasticon Anglo-Saxonicum.
Stebbing Shaw. History of Staffordshire.
” ” Topographer.
Tanner. Notitia Monastica.
CONTENTS.
page
List of Illustrations ix
Chapter I.
Repton (General) 1
Chapter II.
Repton (Historical)—The place-name Repton, &c. 6
Chapter III.
Repton’s Saints (Guthlac and Wystan) 11
Chapter IV.
Repton Church 17
Chapter V.
Repton Church Registers 25
Chapter VI.
Repton’s Merry Bells 42
Chapter VII.
The Priory 50
Chapter VIII.
Repton School 61
Chapter IX.
Repton School v. Gilbert Thacker 65
Chapter X.
Repton Tile-Kiln 71
Chapter XI.
Repton School Tercentenary and Founding of the School 75
Chapel, &c.
Chapter XII.
School Houses, &c. 81
Chapter XIII.
Chief Events referred to, or described 87
Chapter XIV.
The Neighbourhood of Repton. 91
Ashby-de-la-Zouch 92
Barrow, Swarkeston, and Stanton-by-Bridge 99
Bretby and Hartshorn 104
Egginton, Stretton, and Tutbury 108
Etwall and its Hospital 115
Foremark and Anchor Church 121
Melbourne and Breedon 124
Mickle-Over, Finderne, and Potlac 127
Newton Solney 130
Tickenhall, Calke, and Staunton Harold 132
Index 137
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Plate
1. Repton Church frontispiece
2. Prior Overton’s Tower to face page 1
3. Repton Church Crypt ” 17
4. Repton Camp and Church ” 22
5. Plans of Church and Priory ” 25
6. Bell Marks ” 46
7. Repton Priory ” 51
8. Sir John Porte and Gilbert Thacker ” 54
9. The Outer Arch of Gate House ” 61
10. Repton School Chapel and Mr. Exham’s ”
House 75
11. The Hall and Porter’s Lodge ” 81
12. Pears Memorial Hall Window ” 83
13. Mr. Cattley’s, Mr. Forman’s and Mr. Gould’s ”
Houses 85
14. Mr. Estridge’s and Mr. Gurney’s Houses ” 86
15. Cricket Pavilion, Pears Memorial Hall, &c. ” 90
16. Ashby Castle and Staunton Harold Church ” 93
17. Barrow Church and Swarkeston House ” 99
18. Anchor Church and Bretby Hall ” 104
19. Egginton Church and Willington Church ” 109
20. Etwall Church and Hospital ” 115
21. Breedon Church and Melbourne Church ” 125
22. Tickenhall Round House ” 136
CORRIGENDA.
Page 12. For Eaburgh read Eadburgh.
” 14. ” Ggga ” Egga.
” 74. ” Solwey ” Solney.
” 96. ” Grindley ” Grinling.
” 99. ” preceptary ” preceptory.
” 111. ” now ” father of the.
” 115. ” Bumaston ” Burnaston.

Transcriber’s Note: These corrections have been made to the text.


Plate 2.

Repton Hall. (Prior Overton’s Tower, page 81.)


CHAPTER I.
REPTON (GENERAL).

Repton is a village in the County of Derby, four miles east of Burton-


on-Trent, seven miles south-west of Derby, and gives its name to the
deanery, and with Gresley, forms the hundred, or division, to which it
belongs.
The original settlers showed their wisdom when they selected the
site: on the north flowed “the smug and silver Trent,” providing them
with water; whilst on the south, forests, which then, no doubt,
extended in unbroken line from Sherwood to Charnwood, provided
fuel; and, lying between, a belt of green pasturage provided fodder
for cattle and sheep. The hand of time and man, has nearly
destroyed the forests, leaving them such in name alone, and the
remains of forests and pasturage have been “annexed.” Repton
Common still remains in name, in 1766 it was enclosed by Act of
Parliament, and it and the woods round are no longer “common.”
Excavations made in the Churchyard, and in the field to the west
of it, have laid bare many foundations, and portions of Anglo-Saxon
buildings, such as head-stones of doorways and windows, which
prove that the site of the ancient Monastery, and perhaps the town,
was on that part of the village now occupied by church, churchyard,
vicarage and grounds, and was protected by the River Trent, a
branch of which then, no doubt, flowed at the foot of its rocky bank.
At some time unknown, the course of the river was interfered with.
Somewhere, above or about the present bridge at Willington, the
river divided into two streams, one flowing as it does now, the other,
by a very sinuous course, crossed the fields and flowed by the town,
and so on till it rejoined the Trent above Twyford Ferry. Traces of this
bed can be seen in the fields, and there are still three wide pools left
which lie in the course of what is now called the “Old Trent.”
There is an old tradition that this alteration was made by Hotspur.
In Shakespeare’s play of Henry IV. Act III. Hotspur, Worcester,
Mortimer, and Glendower, are at the house of the Archdeacon at
Bangor. A map of England and Wales is before them, which the
Archdeacon has divided into three parts. Mortimer is made to say:

“England, from Trent to Severn hitherto,


By south and east is to my part assign’d:
All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,
To Owen Glendower; and dear Coz, to you
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.”

The “dear Coz” Hotspur, evidently displeased with his share,


replies, pointing to the map;—

“Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,


In quantity equals not one of yours:
See how this river comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all my land,
A huge half moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I’ll have the current in this place damm’d up;
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
In a new channel fair and evenly:
It shall not wind with such a deep indent,
To rob me of so rich a bottom here.”

Whether this passage refers to the alteration of the course of the


Trent at Repton, or not, we cannot say, but that it was altered is an
undoubted fact. The dam can be traced just below the bridge, and on
the Parish Map, the junction of the two is marked. Pilkington in his
History of Derbyshire refers to “eight acres of land in an island
betwixt Repton and Willington” as belonging to the Canons of
Repton Priory. They are still known as the Canons’ Meadows. On
this “island” is a curious parallelogram of raised earth, which is
supposed to be the remains of a Roman Camp, called Repandunum
by Stebbing-Shaw, O.R., the Historian of Staffordshire, but he gives
no proofs for the assertion. Since the “Itineraries” neither mention
nor mark it, its original makers must remain doubtful until
excavations have been made on the spot. Its dimensions are, North
side, 75 yards, 1 foot, South side, 68 yards, 1 foot, East side, 52
yards, 1 foot, West side, 54 yards, 2 feet. Within the four
embankments are two rounded mounds, and parallel with the South
side are two inner ramparts, only one parallel with the North. It is
supposed by some to be “a sacred area surrounding tumuli.” The
local name for it is “The Buries.” In my opinion it was raised and
used by the Danes, who in a.d. 874 visited Repton, and destroyed it
before they left in a.d. 875.
Before the Conquest the Manor of Repton belonged to Algar, Earl
of Mercia. In Domesday Book it is described as belonging to him and
the King, having a church and two priests, and two mills. It soon after
belonged to the Earls of Chester, one of whom, Randulph de
Blundeville, died in the year 1153. His widow, Matilda, with the
consent of her son Hugh, founded Repton Priory.
In Lysons’ Magna Britannia, we read, “The Capital Messuage of
Repingdon was taken into the King’s (Henry III.) hands in 1253.”
Afterwards it appears to have passed through many hands, John de
Britannia, William de Clinton, Philip de Strelley, John Fynderne, etc.,
etc. In the reign of Henry IV., John Fynderne “was seised of an
estate called the Manor of Repingdon alias Strelley’s part,” from
whom it descended through George Fynderne to Jane Fynderne,
who married Sir Richard Harpur, Judge of the Common Pleas,
whose tomb is in the mortuary chapel of the Harpurs in Swarkeston
Church. Round the alabaster slab of the tomb on which lie the
effigies of Sir Richard and his wife, is the following inscription, “Here
under were buryed the bodyes of Richard Harpur, one of the
Justicies of the Comen Benche at Westminster, and Jane his wife,
sister and heyer unto Thomas Fynderne of Fynderne, Esquyer.
Cogita Mori.” Since the dissolution of the Priory there have been two
Manors of Repton, Repton Manor and Repton Priory Manor.
From Sir Richard Harpur the Manor of Repton descended to the
present Baronet, Sir Vauncey Harpur-Crewe. Sir Henry Harpur, by
royal license, assumed the name and arms of Crewe, in the year
1800.
The Manor of Repton Priory passed into the hands of the
Thackers at the dissolution of the Priory, and remained in that family
till the year 1728, when Mary Thacker devised it, and other estates,
to Sir Robert Burdett of Foremark, Bart.
The Village consists of two main streets, which meet at the Cross.
Starting from the Church, in a southerly direction, one extends for
about a mile, towards Bretby. The other, coming from Burton-on-
Trent, proceeds in an easterly direction, through “Brook End,”
towards Milton, and Tickenhall, &c. The road from Willington was
made in 1839, when it and the bridge were completed, and opened
to the public. A swift stream, rising in the Pistern Hills, six miles to
the south, runs through a broad valley, and used to turn four corn
mills, (two of which are mentioned in Domesday Book,) now only two
are worked, one at Bretby, the other at Repton. The first, called
Glover’s Mill, about a mile above Bretby, has the names of many of
the Millers, who used to own or work it, cut, apparently, by their own
hands, in the stone of which it is built. The last mill was the Priory
Mill, and stood on the east side of the Priory, the arch, through which
the mill-race ran, is still in situ, it was blocked, and the stream
diverted to its present course, by Sir John Harpur in the year 1606.
On the left bank of this stream, on the higher ground of the valley,
the village has been built; no attempt at anything like uniformity of
design, in shape or size, has been made, each owner and builder
erected, house or cottage, according to his own idea or desire;
these, with gardens and orchards, impart an air of quaint beauty to
our village, whose inhabitants for centuries have been engaged,
chiefly, in agriculture. In the old Parish registers some of its
inhabitants are described as “websters,” and “tanners,” but, owing to
the growth of the trade in better situated towns, these trades
gradually ceased.
During the Civil War the inhabitants of Repton and neighbourhood
remained loyal and faithful to King Charles I. In 1642 Sir John Gell,
commander of the Parliamentary forces stormed Bretby House, and
in January, 1643, the inhabitants of Repton, and other parishes, sent
a letter of remonstrance to the Mayor and Corporation of Derby,
owing to the plundering excursions of soldiers under Sir John’s
command. In the same year, Sir John Harpur’s house, at
Swarkeston, was stormed and taken by Sir John Gell.
In 1687 a wonderful skeleton, nine feet long! was discovered in a
field, called Allen’s Close, adjoining the churchyard of Repton, now
part of the Vicarage grounds. The skeleton was in a stone coffin, with
others to the number of one hundred arranged round it! During the
year 1787 the grave was reopened, and a confused heap of bones
was discovered, which were covered over with earth, and a
sycamore tree, which is still flourishing, was planted to mark the
spot.
During the present century few changes have been made in the
village; most of them will be found recorded, either under chief
events in the History of Repton, or in the chapters succeeding.

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