Thomas
Lister (1745 to 26th December 1814)
Every Saturday for many years I used to visit the local library
and leaf through that glossy enclave Countrylife magazine. I'd devour the pages of the handsome
countryside mansions and £9-million-five-storey homes in tucked away in quiet
streets in Kensington and then go onto the Posh Totty page. There’d usually be
photograph of a posh lass and an accompanying line like, “Miss Petula Pashley of Wilmington Hall and daughter of Major
James Bradshaw-Smythe is to the marry Percival
Donaldson of Gover Hall, Somerset.” Even now I often
wonder how many of these betrothed couples are still together, how many
children they’d produced and what became of them.
The second
half of the glossy magazine (that seem to waft off its own distinctive smell)
was given over to adverts for polo sets, billiard tables, French polishers,
mole catchers, live-in nannies, sit-on lawnmowers, etc. PA Oxleys’s
often featured a full page advertising expensive antique clocks and barometers (they’re
still going strong http://www.british-antiqueclocks.com)
One name reoccurred
often - Thomas Lister, a master clockmaker. One night in bed I was reading a
book about churches and was quietly glad to read this cherished craftsman was buried
close to the church wall in Luddenden, West Yorkshire
– not far from home. This church was already on my To Visit list as there are two
soldiers buried there in the same grave.
One Sunday
evening I found myself driving through narrow country lanes to see if I could find
Thomas at St Mary’s Church. Nobody was there – none living anyway - and I had
the place to myself. The handsome church hid a quaint quiet cemetery on a few
levels with a stream trickling through it.
In 1730 Thomas
Lister Senior was brought by his widowed mum to be apprenticed to John Stancliffe a clockmaker. He would be taught how to build
clocks and given enough “meat, drink, lodging and washing” and two weeks per
year off to learn how to write. He went on to be a competent craftsman until
his death at 61. His son - also Thomas - was brought into the business and was
such a prodigious craftsman that he made a considerable name for himself across
Yorkshire and then Britain. Books say he was so talented he was often called down
to London to fix the refractory clock at St Paul’s Cathedral. With a skill
above average he made orreries too (no…I had no idea
what they are either – they’re a mechanical model of
the solar system that predicts the positions and paths of planets and moons.)
I went behind
the church into the cemetery before darkness fell and found the two Ward
brothers from the First World War who are buried in the same grave (26 and 29
years old.) I took some decent photos of it as I’m a member of a website where
geeks like me can answer requests for pictures of specific headstones
(recipients of these photos are so grateful, especially if they live abroad.)
Later a man
and his daughter appeared in the cemetery and were playing Pooh Sticks on a
bridge over the stream. I went a little chat with them and they were local but
didn’t know of anyone famous buried nearby. The young girl won a game of Pooh
Sticks and I said, “You won – you win 50 pence.” Her dad immediately said, “No
– no, don’t even think about it Sophie.”
I strolled around
the perimeter of the church itself. It was locked but soon I found the author
of the book was accurate when he said Thomas was buried “close to the church
wall” - it was a few feet away. As the grave was the table-top type I stood on
it but not at the end where the head would be. A few Listers
are buried here and Thomas, his wife and child (who died aged 9 months) are
mentioned at the bottom of the carvings. I wondered how passers-by had ignored
this grave not knowing the man who made ticking clocks for 49 years still has
some of masterpieces ticking away today.
Pointing the
kind of clocks Thomas made…
Passing the grave of the Ward brothers
who died in the First World War…
Looking at the table-top graves as Thomas is buried in one of them…
Buried close to the church wall as mentioned in the book…
Here he is…
