The A-Z of Curious Shropshire E-Book

John Shipley

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 251

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

John Shipley takes the reader on a grand tour of the curious and bizarre, the strange and the unusual from Shropshire's past. Here you will find out where an African Prince is interred; which pub is reputedly haunted by the ghost of John (Mad Jack) Mytton of Halston Hall; and which village lays claim to the oldest cottage in Europe. Along the way you will read about earthquakes and floods, giants and witches, highwaymen and bandits, scandalous residents and inventors. Richly illustrated, The A-Z of Curious Shropshire is great for dipping into, but can equally be enjoyed from cover to cover.

Leseprobe

For Harry and Jack, two fantastic grandsons

First published in 2017

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2017

All rights reserved

© John Shipley, 2017

The right of John Shipley to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7509 8317 4

Original typesetting by The History Press

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Introduction

The A-Z of Curious Shropshire

Retired managing director John Shipley lives in Bridgnorth in Shropshire, and is now a full-time writer. A Wolverhampton Wanderers fan, he is the author of a number of Westerns, as well as football books.

Also by John Shipley

Aston Villa Champions 1980/81

Nottingham Forest Champions 1977/78

The Little Book of Shropshire

The Nottingham Forest Miscellany

Wolves against the World: European Nights 1953-1980

Wolverhampton Wanderers Champions 1953/54

I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank and acknowledge all the people, individuals and organisations that have helped with the compilation of material for this book and without whom the project could not have been completed: Adrian Pearce of the Shropshire History website: www.shropshirehistory.com, The Shropshire Library Service, the staff at Bridgnorth Public Library, Andrew Pattison, Chris Piggott of NSW Australia and Gail Stokes of Cheshire for their help with the Pigott family. My thanks also go to the compilers of information of the Local History Societies of Broseley and Dawley; to Shropshire Promotions, and to BBC Shropshire. And to everyone who has encouraged my efforts with snippets of information.

My best thanks go to my long-suffering wife Kate and my son Peter, for their immense contribution – rewrites, additional facts, and proof checking, plus my good friends Eric Smith and Mike Thomas for their input. And finally to my editor Matilda Richards and the staff at The History Press.

I must also pay tribute to the other authors of works about the county, in particular Richard Gough for his history Antiquities and Memories of the Parish of Myddle, and Charlotte Sophia Burne (1850-1923) for her books on Shropshire folklore; also to Edith Pargeter (Ellis Peters).

The material for this book has been compiled and assembled from personal research, archive material, various websites and printed matter, and of course word of mouth, all of which has been used in good faith.

Whilst every effort has been made to check and re-check the facts and items in this book, the publisher and author bear no responsibility for the content. Where possible, permission has been sought.

And lastly, please forgive me if I have not included any of your particular favourite curiosities.

Like the title says, The A–Z of Curious Shropshire is a book for the curious. It draws on the long and unique heritage of the county, and is a compilation of the curious, strange, and mysterious stories that bring to life a glittering galaxy of facts about a much-loved county. You will find superstitions, larger-than-life eccentric characters, anecdotes, historical events, tales of ghostly goings-on, scandals, crimes and murders, together with curious legends and folklore – some more believable than others. There are tales of bewitchment and conflict, of heroes and villains, all laid out in an easy to read A–Z format.

It’s said that curiosity killed the cat, but hopefully this old adage will prove to be completely untrue for any cats who read this book. That titan of literary figures, Dr Samuel Johnson, described curiosity as ‘one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind’, so those of you with a vigorous mind can take a bow.

History has always held a fascination for me, not just the monumental dates and the derring-do of our famous heroes, but the little nuggets of local history and of the people who populate an area, together with the sometimes weird and wonderful customs that intertwine with their lives.

My wife and I relocated to Bridgnorth forty-eight years ago, leaving behind the polluted smoke and smog of the Black Country for the good clean air of Shropshire. We have never regretted that decision. In Shropshire we found a county of many contrasts; a beautiful marcher county littered with historic castles and irresistible scenery.

With so many curious stories abounding about Shropshire, it made my choice of what to include and what to leave out a challenging proposition, so please forgive me for any I have been unable to include.

This book is great for dipping into, but can equally be enjoyed from cover to cover.

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I have enjoyed putting it together.

John Shipley, 2017

ACTON BURNELL

~ The Birth of the English Parliament ~

Around 7 miles south of Shrewsbury lies Acton Burnell, a tiny community of timber-framed, black and white cottages mixed in with buildings of grey-green stone, a place where a monumental event in the history of England took place.

Although the exact date is not certain, at Acton Burnell some time between 1283 and 1285, King Edward I held the first parliament at which commoners were invited to participate – seen by many as the first steps to democracy. The king’s most probable reasoning for such a bold step was simply that he needed money to continue his campaign to subdue the Welsh nation, and also to impeach and execute Prince David of Gwynedd, the last native Prince of Wales, who had recently been captured.

The wonderfully atmospheric Acton Burnell Castle.

Parliament Barn, Acton Burnell.

Edward’s chief minister at that time was his friend and advisor Robert Burnell, Bishop of Bath and Wells, and Lord Chancellor of England. Burnell built Acton Burnell Castle, a thirteenth-century fortified manor house, set in the area known as the Marches. Acton Burnell was just one of his many estates: he reputedly owned more than eighty manors, spread over nineteen counties. The only building at Acton Burnell large enough to hold such a huge gathering of invitees – barons, courtiers, advisors and soldiers, in addition to the king’s large retinue – was the great barn adjacent to the castle, known today as Parliament Barn. Sadly all that remains of this building are two gable ends, which stand within the grounds of Concord College. The atmospheric ruined shell of Burnell’s red-sandstone manor house castle with its embattled towers and decorative crenellations still stands, a picturesque example of a thirteenth-century manor. (Note: some historians prefer to belive that this parliament was actually held at Shrewsbury Abbey.)

One of the laws passed by that parliament became known as the Statute of Acton Burnell, which gave protection to creditors.

The castle is now under the administration of English Heritage.

ADDERLEY

~ The Great Pew Dispute ~

Adderley is a quiet place these days, but there was a time prior to the start of the English Civil War when its church was the scene of a war of attrition.

The two most prominent families in the area were the Royalist Needhams of Shavington Hall and the Puritan Corbets of Adderley Hall, who had been bitter rivals for centuries. Scandalous goings-on that had long festered came to a head in a dispute over seating in St Peter’s church. Both families felt they were the rightful lords of the manor, and therefore much higher up in the scale of importance than the other.

In the early 1600s, the Needham family had their own priest and worshipped in their own private chapel at Shavington Hall, independently of the local Adderley parish church of St Peter’s. All that changed when this method of worship was banned by order of Queen Elizabeth I, and the Needhams were forced to attend services at the local church.

The first problem for the Needhams was that there was no direct road from Shavington Hall to St Peter’s church. Sir Robert Needham’s solution was to have his coachman drive the family’s carriage to the church in Adderley via a shortcut across their neighbour’s land – Adderley Park. That neighbour was Sir John Corbet, and he was not best pleased with the Needhams trespassing on his land without his permission. In actual fact the route to the church and the village of Adderley across Corbet’s park had been a right of way for as long as anyone could remember, however, it was little more than a cart track, which the Corbets had never kept in a state of repair and in wet weather became a quagmire, impassable for carriages.

Arriving at the church for their first service under the new regime, the Needhams were horrified to learn that the family, despite Sir Robert Needham being the official lord of the manor, had been allocated seating with the ordinary folk in the nave of the church rather than in a prominent position in the chancel, where they saw their neighbour, Sir John Corbet, and his family seated in their own private family pews in the chancel facing the vicar. At that time Sir John Corbet was a patron of the church, and his ancestors had themselves once been lords of the manor of Adderley.

Sir Robert complained at length at what he saw as a slight against him and his family, stating his belief that he should have been allocated a family pew in the chancel by right, and that in any case he and his family should be given precedence as the most prominent family in the area.

The dispute had the effect of rekindling an earlier feud when the Corbet lord of the manor had the authority to demand, in times of war, forty days’ military service of the Needhams in return for his patronage. An agreement had been reached with the Needhams whereby this period of service was commuted to the payment of a sum of money, a contract which had lapsed sometime in the fourteenth century.

Sir John Corbet’s reaction to Needham’s complaints was to demand monetary payment of the old feudal obligation, which Sir Robert Needham disputed, refusing to pay one penny. Sir John Corbet retaliated by blocking the route across his land, putting up a hedge and having a ditch dug. At the same time he flatly refused to take any action regarding Sir Robert’s complaint about the seating in the church.

The local clergyman, Edward Wooley, took it upon himself to try to resolve this portion of the dispute. As rector of the church he too was allocated seating in the chancel, and as he was a bachelor with no family he invited Sir Robert and his family to use his family pew in the chancel, thus granting the two families equal status when inside the church. Unfortunately this arrangement did not last, because the rector met a girl, fell in love and got married, then reclaimed his family pew. Despite a series of bitter arguments, the Needhams found themselves relocated back to a pew in the nave of the church.

The situation was further complicated when in 1625, on the accession of King Charles I, Sir Robert Needham was created Viscount Kilmorey for services to the Crown in Ireland. Although this was an Irish peerage, it meant that the nave was certainly no place for the family of a lofty Viscount. However, this was trumped when Sir John Corbet was honoured with an English baronetcy, with Corbet arguing that an English peerage took precedence over an Irish one.

St Peter’s church, Adderley. The previous church on this site was the scene of the Adderley Pew Dispute.

Lord Kilmorey’s solution was to petition the Lord Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield for permission to rebuild his private chapel at Shavington Hall, for which he eventually obtained a licence. In 1629, the restored chapel was reconsecrated.

However, Sir John Corbet wasn’t done yet, and eight months later instigated a suit in the Court of Arches to have the consecration declared invalid, which was partially successful. The ruling allowed that only limited types of services could be held at the new chapel, such as preaching, prayer and celebrations of the Lord’s Supper. Burials, for instance, still had to be carried out at the church.

The death of Viscount Kilmorey in 1631 changed nothing: Sir John Corbet would not let the old man rest in peace. Needham’s son, Robert Needham, the second Lord Kilmorey, now instigated proceedings of his own against Sir John, which were heard by a special commission at Market Drayton, who overturned the ruling of the Court of Arches. Needham also took up the cudgel regarding the blocked right of way and, on 14 May 1632, the Court of Wards and Liveries ordered Sir John to reopen the right of way, which he eventually did, but not before a series of acrimonious claims and counterclaims had been made. The route was open, but Sir John flatly refused to do anything to improve or repair the condition of the track.

In 1633, matters descended further when one of Sir John Corbet’s servants, a man by the name of Darbee Margh Killaree, died. Sir John, as patron of the church, forced Mr Wooley, the rector of St Peter’s, to bury the Irish footman near the place where he sat in the chancel of the church, 4ft above the place where the first Viscount Kilmorey had himself been buried. To add insult to injury, the footman was buried in a shroud, not a coffin.

The second Viscount Kilmorey was away at the time, but upon hearing what Sir John had done was rightly incensed at this slur on his family’s honour. He petitioned the Earl Marshal of England, Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel, to issue a decree on the matter. His pleas were successful and in 1634 Sir John Corbet was ordered to have the body of the footman exhumed and reburied in another place.

In 1634, Corbet was at the heart of Shropshire opposition against forced loans imposed by the king, by criticising the levying of ‘Ship Money’ (the ship tax – more of this later), another of King Charles I’s taxes imposed without the consent of Parliament. Sir John was summoned to appear before the Privy Council of England, accused of making speeches ‘to his majesties disservice, and the animating of others to refuse payment of the muster master’s fee’. He was incarcerated in Fleet Prison for six months but was never brought to trial.

While Sir John Corbet languished in the Fleet, Viscount Kilmorey secretly petitioned the king to grant permission for him to build a chapel onto the chancel of St Peter’s church in which his family could worship. A licence for the work was issued by the Archbishop of Canterbury, William Laud, and work commenced in 1637. The chapel was lavishly decorated with emblems of Needham heraldry.

Lady Corbet now waded in; she obtained a key to the new chapel and took a group of her servants to the church to occupy the new chapel. This early example of a sit-in protest lasted several weeks, until finally they were forcibly ejected. Unhappy at this expulsion, the Corbets returned with an armed guard.

Viscount Kilmorey again protested to the Archbishop of Canterbury, but before any further action could be taken, the outbreak of the English Civil War took precedence. In any case, Corbet was protected by parliamentary privilege, and William Laud had already been impeached and thrown into prison, awaiting execution. And so the Adderley pew dispute was relegated to the back burner.

As fervent Royalists, the Kilmoreys (Needhams) supported King Charles, whereas the puritan Corbets supported the rebel Parliamentarians. At the outbreak of the English Civil War in 1642, Viscount Needham joined the Chester Garrison, and was later at Oxford during the Royalist surrender to Parliamentary forces. He was subsequently fined £3,560 for being a Delinquent Royalist – a sum he negotiated down to £2,360 but which was still a large sum of money in those days. He was again arrested in 1651, when Charles II passed through Shropshire on his way to the Battle of Worcester. Two years later, having lived quietly, Robert Needham, 2nd Viscount Kilmorey, died at Dutton in Cheshire on 12 September 1653.

Sir John Corbet died in June 1662 at the age of 68. He was buried in the chancel of the parish church in Market Drayton, St Mary’s.

The north transept of St Peter’s church, Adderley.

APLEY

~ Superstition ~

In the nineteenth century a woman by the name of Molly Tart lived in a cottage in the tiny settlement of Hadley, a few miles outside Wellington. Molly worked for many years in the gardens of Apley Castle, the stately home of the Charlton family (long since demolished). Molly was famous locally for being superstitious to the point of madness. For instance, if the first person she saw when she opened her door to go to work in the morning was a woman, she would bang the door shut and stay in her cottage for the rest of the day. On the days when she saw a man first she would happily set off for work, but, if the first person she chanced to meet along the way was a woman, she would spin on her heels and hot-foot it back home for the day.

The rent on her cottage was due every quarter day (the four dates in the year when rents were due, servants were hired, and school terms started), and she would set off to arrive at eight in the morning to pay her rent, but when she knocked on the door if it was opened by a female then all thoughts of payment were forgotten, and Molly would turn away and go back home.

Her boss at the castle understood her superstition and always tried to ensure that it was either him or one of his sons who opened the door to her. There is no record of how long she kept her job!

ASTON ON CLUN

~ The Arbor Tree ~

Just a short way past the Kangaroo Inn, on a bend in the road towards Clun, passers-by are rewarded by the sight of the wonderful Arbor Tree of Aston on Clun, a huge native black poplar bedecked with the flags of many nations, sited in a delightful tiny picnic area. The flags are hung from long poles fixed to the boughs of the tree.

A tree has stood on this spot for hundreds of years, although the present tree is not the original. This one was grown from a cutting of the old tree, which sadly blew down during a storm in 1995.

The story behind the ‘dressing of flags’ has a number of supposed origins: some say it dates back to prehistoric times when it was the custom to celebrate the coming of spring, when trees burst into life with new foliage after the cold of winter, blessed as a symbol of new life.

Another belief is that the decoration has its origins in fertility rights, practised by shepherds in Clun forest in Celtic times. The shepherds worshipped Bridget, or Brigid, the goddess of fertility, and whose shrine was a tree on which tribal emblems and prayer flags were hung. The blessing of the goddess was sought by brides. Bridget/Brigid eventually became St Bridget/St Brigid or St Bride. Celebrations took place at St Bride’s tree.

The flag-bedecked Arbor Tree at Aston on Clun.

After the restoration of the monarchy on 29 May 1660, King Charles II proclaimed 29 May as Oak Apple Day, a holiday when trees would be dressed with flags and other such things. The tree was the centre of festivities, later becoming known as Arbor Day at Aston on Clun.

It was on 29 May in 1786 that local landowner Squire John Marston brought his new bride, Mary Carter, to the village, where the Arbor Tree had been dressed with flags. The young bride was so enamoured with this ancient custom that she wanted to preserve it. Her efforts were successful for the custom continued until 1954, when the tree was entrusted to the care of Hopesay Parish Council, who happily continue the tradition to the present day.

According to the nearby information board, Aston on Clun is the only village in Britain where Arbor Day is still celebrated.

Every year on the last Sunday in May, the tree is decked with flags which are left flying for the rest of the year. The wedding of John Marston and Mary Carter is commemorated by a pageant of local children in period costume of the 1700s, and after the ceremony a huge fête is held on Arbor Field with children’s rides, tug-of-war, and fun for all the family

ATCHAM

~ The Ghost of Mad Jack Mytton ~

Lining one side of the old A5 main road around 4 miles to the south-east of Shrewsbury are a group of tiny thatched cottages, designed by John Nash, that form the bulk of the settlement of Atcham. Near the two bridges across the River Severn, on the eastern bank and opposite the elegant gateway to Attingham Park, lies the red-brick Georgian inn, the Mytton and Mermaid. The building is a splendidly atmospheric, Grade II listed hotel, built in 1735.

The Grade II listed Mytton and Mermaid Hotel at Atcham.

This popular hostelry, previously called the Talbot Arms, is reputedly haunted by the ghost of John (Mad Jack) Mytton of Halston Hall, a Regency rake and true English eccentric, whose vast inheritance disappeared like water running through his fingers. This madcap daredevil regularly risked his life doing crazy things. He reputedly drank up to six bottles of port every day. He also kept 2,000 dogs, plus more than sixty finely costumed cats, in addition to a bear called Nell.

One day, dressed in full hunting attire, Jack rode the bear around the hall until the animal balked at being pricked by a spur, and bit Jack on the leg. The bear also attacked a servant, and was thus put down. Jack also allowed his favourite horse, Baronet, the run of the house.

In 1834, at the age of just 38, Jack died in King’s Bench debtor’s prison in Southwark, having squandered all his money.

Legend has it that on the way to Halston chapel, Jack’s funeral procession stopped off at the Mytton and Mermaid, in those days a well-known coaching inn, to partake of some refreshment, and now the ghost of this true English eccentric is said to haunt the hotel once a year on his birthday – 30 September.

BAGBURY

~ The Bagbury Bull ~

In Hyssington parish, on the border between England and Wales, there is a bridge known as Bagbury Bridge, which spans a brook that forms the border between Shropshire and old Montgomeryshire. Nearby at Bagbury Farm, in times gone by there lived an evil squire, noted for his cruelty. When this horrible man died his spirit remained restless and returned, not in the form of a man, but as a roaring, raging bull, who haunted the farm buildings after 9 p.m., roaring so loud as to shake the timbers of the buildings and the slates from the roof. The nuisance could not be tolerated, and so the villagers approached a local witch, asking her to put a curse on the squire, which she agreed to do but only for a price. However, her spells did nothing to change the wicked spirit’s behaviour, which was making everyone’s life a misery; his restless spirit would not sleep, and his ghost was proving to be far worse than the living version.

Now the villagers appealed to the local clergy for help, and in the age-old tradition, twelve priests assembled to lay the ghost. With lighted candles the clergymen, one of them blind, prayed and chanted until they managed to entice the bovine spirit into Hyssington church, but once inside the bull went mad, charging around so much that it cracked the wall of the church. However, the priests refused to give up and finally prevailed in laying the ghost, and sealing it in a snuffbox. It was at that point that the evil spirit spoke to them, maliciously imploring the priests to lay him under Bagbury Bridge, so that every female who passed over the bridge would lose her child, be she human or animal. According to one version of the legend, the priests refused such a request and sent the snuffbox to the Red Sea, where they believed the ghost would be laid for 1,000 years. Even so, for years afterwards folks crossing the bridge would tread very lightly so as not to risk waking the spirit of the Bagbury Bull.

A second version of the story is that the snuffbox was buried under Wernddu Lane Bridge over the River Camlad in Churchstoke. A third says that the box was left under a flat stone in the marsh at Pennerley. And a fourth version tells us that the snuffbox rests inside a tightly laced boot which has been laid beneath the doorstep of St Etheldreda’s church in Hyssington. Which story do you believe?

BAYSTON HILL

~ Air Ace ~

This is the story of a Second World War hero, Shropshire-born air ace Eric Lock (19 April 1919–3 August 1941). Eric Stanley Lock was born in Bayston Hill near Shrewsbury, attending school at Prestfeld. It was whilst still at school that he experienced his first flight at the cost of 5 shillings, with Sir Alan Cobham’s Air Circus.

Eric started work in his father’s quarrying and farming business, joining the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, the RAF version of the Territorial Army, when rumours of impending war with Germany started. When war came, Eric was called up, and was trained to fly Spitfires. Commissioned Pilot Officer, at the end of May 1940 he was posted to Number 41 Fighter Squadron based at Catterick, Yorkshire, returning to Shropshire briefly to marry Peggy Myers, a former Miss Shrewsbury.

Patrols from Catterick proved to be boring for the young pilot as the German Luftwaffe concentrated their efforts on attacking targets in the south of England, however, on 15 August 1940 Eric shot down a twin-engine Messerschmitt 110 bomber. Following this, Lock and his squadron were posted to RAF Hornchurch in Essex. Two days after arriving, on 5 September, Lock brought down two Luftwaffe bombers over the Thames Estuary, before a bullet from a Messerschmitt ME 109 fighter wounded him in the leg. Despite this, Eric still managed to shoot the German down. Next day, Lock shot down a Junkers 88 bomber, and three days later bagged two more Messerschmitt 109s, then on 11 September he shot down another Junkers 88, plus a Messerschmitt 110. His tally was now eight German aircraft in one week, bringing his total kills to nine. His gallantry was rewarded with his first Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC). The citation told how the young pilot ‘displayed great vigour and determination in pressing home his attacks’.

His next kill was an enemy aeroplane that he chased all the way across the English Channel, finally shooting it down over Boulogne. A mere three weeks after receiving his first DFC he was rewarded with a second DFC; he had shot down fifteen German aircraft in only nineteen days. This citation praised his ‘great courage in the face of heavy odds, and his skill and coolness in combat’.

Lock’s squadron was ordered out of the front line for a well-earned rest, returning to action in October 1940. Another ME 109 shot down brought his total to twenty, but in his next dogfight with ME 109s he came off worse. On 8 November his Spitfire was badly damaged, resulting in him having to make a forced landing; luckily he escaped injury.

On 17 November Lock’s squadron attacked a large formation of seventy ME 109s. Lock shot down one and set fire to another before his cockpit was raked by German bullets and cannon-shells, inflicting wounds to Lock’s right arm and both legs. One of the bullets knocked the Spitfire’s throttle lever wide open, at the same time knocking the lever off, resulting in the Spitfire leaping forward out of the dogfight at top speed – more than 400mph. Alone at 20,000ft, and only able to use his left arm, Lock had no way of slowing down the racing engine. Somehow he managed to manipulate the plane down to around 2,000ft, before cutting his engine and searching for a suitable place for a crash-landing. The plane glided to earth in a field 2 miles from an RAF base, but even so, he had to wait in the cockpit for two hours, bleeding and in pain, before he was eventually found by two soldiers who carried him to safety on a stretcher improvised from a greatcoat and rifles.

Eric Lock woke up in hospital to learn he had been awarded the Distinguished Service Order (DSO). The citation paid tribute to his ‘magnificent fighting spirit and personal example’.

Three months and fifteen operations to remove pieces of shrapnel from his legs followed, Lock remaining in hospital until May 1941, except for a trip to Buckingham Palace to receive his decorations.

Lock reported back for duty in July 1941, and was promoted to Flying Officer, with a second promotion following not long after, this time to Flight Lieutenant, commanding a flight of Spitfires with 611 Squadron.

The Battle of Britain now won, the RAF fighter squadrons concentrated their focus on long-range sweeps over occupied Europe – known as Rhubarbs. In his first few weeks back in battle Lock shot down four German aircraft, bringing his total to twenty-six.

However, on 3 August 1941, returning from a sweep over northern France, Lock spied a group of German soldiers on a road near Calais, and swooped down to the attack – he was never seen again. It is thought that his plane was most likely brought down by ground fire, however, no wreckage of his aircraft was ever found, nor was his body recovered. Shropshire’s air ace has no known grave.

Eric Lock’s name is proudly inscribed on the Runnymede Memorial in Surrey, together with those of 20,000 brave British and Commonwealth airmen and women who were lost during the Second World War, many without trace.