Robert Kingston
Something of a new form
for me, a themed sequence.
Feel free to comment:
you
paint
the
flower the sun
does
it better
burrowed
light
beneath
the bush
a
spot
on
the beetle from
tip
to tip
no
need to count
the
devil’s details
leaving
the
domino puzzle
crumbling
Copyright
Rob Kingston
by Richard Banks
There are many sorts of fame, a subject on which many folk have expressed an opinion. To inaccurately paraphrase Shakespeare some people are born famous, some achieve fame and some have fame thrust upon them. Three hundred years later Oscar Wilde, yet to make his mark on the literary world, established the concept of being famous for being famous, a concept much practised in present times by celebrities such as Kim Kardashian. In the 1960s Andy Warhol declared that in future everyone would be famous, but only for fifteen minutes. No doubt, Socrates would have disagreed with the lot of them, for him fame was, ‘the perfume of heroic deeds’.
None of these definitions, however,
seem to fit Edward Bright of Maldon who became famous for being the stoutest
man in
He was one of five children born to William and Mary Bright of whom little seems to be known beyond that they were prosperous, middling sort of folk who were probably non-conformist in religion. They did, however, have a nearly famous person in their family tree, a Mrs Jane Disbrowe, sister to Oliver Cromwell.
Having been born, the next sighting we have of Edward is of him working as a post boy delivering mail on horseback, an occupation that ended when at the age of twelve and already twelve stone in weight someone took pity on the horse. Well, there were many lighter boys and the poor horse also had letters and parcels to carry. However, it may be that Edward’s family decided to call time on this employment preferring to secure his future prosperity by buying him an apprenticeship, which they did in 1733 when, age thirteen, he was apprenticed to Joseph Pattison, a grocer living and trading in Maldon. Pattison was a very wealthy man and, like Edward’s family, a non-conformist. Possibly it was this religious connection that persuaded Pattison to take Edward on but it would seem that Edward had already established a reputation for being able and trustworthy. If so, this would account for him, still only thirteen, being called upon to witness the will of one of Maldon’s best know citizens, the Reverend Joseph Billio.
Edward lived in Pattison’s house learning
his trade until the completion of his apprenticeship in 1740 at which time he
weighed around twenty-four stone. In 1743 he became a freeman of Maldon and, in
the same year, his father died leaving him £200. This was the second of a
number of legacies he received enabling him to set-up in business on his own
account and marry one Mary Browne of
Although Edward’s weight increased steadily during his lifetime he was strong and active until a year or so before his death. It is reputed that he was 5’9” tall, measured 5’ 6” around the chest, and 6’ 1” around the stomach. Known affectionately as the ‘Fat Man of Maldon’ or the ‘Great Bright’ he was a popular and well-regarded man in his community. In 1750 he suffered a long illness during which he was sometimes bled of as much as thirty-two ounces of blood. On 10 November 1750, age twenty-nine, he died. The primary cause of death was not his great weight, then forty-four stone, but typhoid. However, a contemporary report states that ‘his corpulence so overpowered his strength, that his life was a burden and his death a deliverance’.
In order to remove his body from the upstairs bedroom where he died it was necessary to demolish the staircase of his house and part of a wall. His specially constructed coffin was conveyed to All Saints Church, Maldon for burial by carriage and then on rollers to its final resting place. He was interred on 12 November. The parish records contain the following tribute to him – ‘He was a very honest tradesman, a facetious [witty] companion, comely [handsome] in his person, affable in his temper, a tender father and valuable friend.’ His death and burial were widely reported in newspapers about the country.
His fame, which otherwise might have been short lived, soon became the stuff of legend due to two extraordinary wagers that took place shortly after his death.. In the first an inveterate gambler accepted a bet that seven men could fit into Edward’s waistcoat. No doubt he thought he was onto a sure thing but the sly fellow proposing the bet actually won it when, on 1 December 1750 at the Black Bull Inn in Maldon seven unnamed men of the Dengie Hundred were buttoned into the waistcoat. Two months later a second wager took place at the Kings Head, also in Maldon, when nine men of the town were easily fitted into Edward’s waistcoat. This time we have their names and occupations. Surprisingly they include the vicar, parish clerk, a customs officer and six prominent tradesmen, including a Joseph Pattison, presumably Edward’s old master.
Like me you may be wondering if these two events actually happened. If they did they seem extraordinarily insensitive, if not insulting, to the recently bereaved. Having not seen the original records I am unable to say one way or the other but why spoil a good story that has done much to boost Maldon as a visitor destination.
Go to Maldon. I recommend it. And if
you do be sure to see the sights – the bronze reliefs commemorating the wager
outside the Continental Cafe in Maldon High Street, a sculpture of the wager
and a replica of the famous waistcoat in
One thing that will not be found in
Maldon is the main exhibit, Edward’s waistcoat. At the time of his death it
was, apparently, at the tailor’s for letting out. In the next one hundred and
ninety years it seems to have had various owners before ending up in
To end with another quote about fame, Samuel Johnson, who was a contemporary of Edward Bright said – among many other things – ‘time quickly puts an end to artificial and accidental fame.’ If he had Edward in mind he could not have been more wrong.
Compiled by Richard Banks
Bibliography:
Youtube
video by Lynne Raymond and, the websites of:
Visitmaldondistrict;
Wikipedia;
BBC
- Essex - History;
All
Saints with St Peter, Maldon; and
Maldon
Nub News – Historic Maldon.
I hear that it must grow and grow,
The latest from Mis Trust and Co.
We all must have jobs that pay more
So why the strikes, are we so sure.
There are lots of mundane jobs to do
But poorly paid, is that a clue.
These basic jobs are our foundation,
They are essential in creation.
Tower blocks, they need a base,
They may be hidden, without a face
But we ignore them at our peril,
And our growth may well be sterile.
Each bud that blooms does so through roots
They must be fed or else they die,
And starved of their essential needs
The blossoms fall, alas you sigh.
Growth is structured and should ensure
There’s no huge gap between rich and poor.
This future pie, it must be made
Each ingredient with a proper measure,
The crust atop should share the glory
And when sliced, expose the treasure.
Of course, you may think,
That this is just barmy,
I look back to the slave trade,
The Miners, the Hierarchy.
Peter Woodgate Oct 2022
Peter Woodgate
They both had a dream
miles apart, it would seem.
One who spoke up
for a beautiful change
the other who spoke
about cruelty, how strange.
One who spoke out
against racist abuse
one who spoke out
with a feeble excuse.
One spoke of love
To end inequality
one spoke of a dark land
over the sea.
Martin Luther King – a Brave man.
Suella -------------just a
Braverman
Our lives begin to end the day we
become silent
about things that matter.
Copyright Peter Woodgate Oct 2022
Peter Woodgate
If only I knew then,
what I know now,
a time before these lines
were chiseled on my brow.
Knowledge,
oh, you come too late,
we can’t regress,
that is our fate.
A wasted youth in many ways
as all the minutes, hours, and days
turned into years of tender bliss,
oblivious of, just what I’d miss.
It was just I, against the world,
my future, it would be unfurled.
No thought for others, just my
dream,
a common trend, so it would seem.
And when I fear that I will cease
to be,
before my pen has gleaned my
teeming brain,
I will look back on errors now I
see
And think, why was I so insane?
Copyright Peter Woodgate Oct 2022
