The Nouveau
Riche of Ripponden (The Yorkshire Post, 23 October 1901)
We do not know why the loss of a princely and
pious benefactor is not bewailed at Ripponden; for Mr. Walter Arnold Bradley, who last week sold up his
establishment and does not contemplate residing there
again, seems entitled to the regrets of its inhabitants.
They have known him for five years, have found him
open-handed beyond all experience, have admired the usage
of family prayers in a twenty roomed villa, the
softness of disposition in a man who drove a pair of
match bays and chartered saloon carriages, and have elected him people's warden. Mr. Bradley was as liberal
as Monte Christo, and innocent of revengeful purposes.
If not a selfish impulse of regret, then consternation
and sympathy, would seem to be emotions proper to
the spectacle of his arrest under a charge of vulgar fraud
which has not been proved. The arrest, however, is regarded
as rounding off a mystery. Mr.
Bradley did not tell the astonished villages
where he came from. They feel that they accepted him on trust, and therefore on probation. There is a disposition to regard this disastrous
close as, natural, perhaps fitting;
and it would instruct a story-writer given
to the study of social comedy to be upon the scene.
Nothing inconsistent with Mr. Bradley's
innocence of the charge is to be heard in all this
gossip, and the true interest
of it is merely picturesque. He came from nobody knew where to the little place five years ago,
took Ryburn House and furnished it palatially, and told nobody his business.
He may be supposed to have felt that he owed
nobody an explanation. It was not as if he meant to hide his light under
a bushel; Mr. Bradley lived from the first
in the public eye--constituted himself, indeed, a sort of Ripponden
windfall. There was just a spice of
ostentation in it, for he made it a point of etiquette that letters should not be addressed to Mr. W. A. Bradley, but to W. A. Grosvenor Bradley. The name
“Grosvenor” was one in which he took
a certain family pride, it seemed; he had acquired it by some remote but honourable connection with a well-known
aristocratic family. Otherwise Mr.
Bradley's manners were exemplary. He
gave to troublesome people on several occasions
the soft answer which turneth away wrath—and
envious disesteem. He was a regular worshipper
at Ripponden Church, a generous donor to its funds, and a warm admirer of
Evangelical doctrine and methods.
It appeared that his costly taste an matters, appertaining to domestic art had not perverted a sturdy Protestantism; he had not, and never
could have, the least sort
of sympathy with ecclesiastical high ritual. The family prayers at Ryburn edified a large establishment, including a coachman, a groom,
gardeners, and a liberal
complement of female servants. It was reported that he led their devotions with
unusual fervour. He
wished his coachman and groom to be at liberty on Sundays to attend a place of worship, and gave a weekly rest to his pair of bays. That he should
not escape calumny was inevitable. Village gossip made much of the
fact that, his servants never stayed long, and the servants, or some of them, may be supposed to have talked resentfully. There were quarters in which opinion presently went against him, and
where it was conjectured shrewdly that Mr. Bradley was either a pawnbroker or a money lender. Bet all
these detractors could learn about the source of his apparently boundless wealth was that he did business
in Manchester.
Ryburn House, Ripponden
“Light come, light go," was a proverb quoted against him
with headshakings; for he tipped the railway porters handsomely,
tipped any man who did him service and would take his money, tipped the disaffected servants most of all—with an occasional bonus of a sovereign added to their monthly wages, or of half-a-sovereign
supplementing a visitor's vails.
His visitors themselves were royally entertained.
It was for their comfort and exclusiveness, not his own, that he sometimes nut a saloon carriage. He made no close inquiry as to the merits of
"deserving objects," but was to every one alike a cheerful giver. Is
it, or is it not, creditable to the charity and common sense of Ripponden that,
by way augment the mystery of a liberal man’s resourcefulness, a story went the
rounds that he had one secret room at Ryburn, which none but he was allowed to
enter, and that, if the contents and what he did there could be known, the
whole truth about Mr Grosvenor Bradley would be manifest? Gossip named the room Bluebeard’s Chamber. It seems to have been a
writing room – simply furnished with a desk, a couch, a nest of pigeon holes, a
few bentwood chairs, and a screen to ward the draughts off.
But Mr Bradley’s
reticence was taken as a challenge. In a Yorkshire village reticence is a
mistake. There were bets about him in the public-houses, and more than once he
was followed to Manchester. The mystery remained a mystery, nevertheless, until
the other day.
For some time past Mr
Bradley had reduced his expenditure without abating it. He kept fewer servants.
He was not as often seen at church either; and business at Manchester engaged
him rather more closely. Finally, like a bombshell, came the announcement: “Mr
Thomas Arnold, instructed by a gentleman who is leaving the neighbourhood, will
sell by auction the very handsome and costly appointments” at Ryburn. The sale
took place on Tuesday and Wednesday last week.
The whole village was at liberty to go and look at Bluebeard’s Chamber,
and wonder at the old oak in the hall and dining-room, the gilt and the inlaid
furniture, the rich carpets, the elctro-plate, the pictures, the handsome
ornaments, the six writing tables, and the “first-class match pair of bay
carriage horses (with black points)” in their stable, “well known in the
district as fast good movers” – like their owner, it was jocularly said. Mr Grosvenor Bradley had taken a new office
in Manchester, where, by strict attention to business – But his arrest forbids
the conjecture. Mr Bradley’s attention
to business now engages the help of a solicitor, and gives him, doubtless, a
certain new anxiety.
Mr Grosvenor Bardley: Leading Figure in the Novelties Trial (The Lancashire Daily Post, 30 April 1902)
Mr
Grosvenor Bradley, upon whom the curtain rang down at Manchester Assizes on
Tuesday night, resided up the time of his arrest in connection with the Patent
Novelties case at Ripponden, a hamlet on the border line which divides
Lancashire from Yorkshire. He has lived
at Ripponden for the past five or six years, but Ripponden has none the more
known anything definite about Mr Bradley.
It confesses that Mr Bradley has “done the heavy,” but there its
knowledge of the gentleman ends.
Curiosity to know something more about him led certain enterprising
amateurs in the Sherlock Holmes line to follow him occasionally to Manchester;
but these seekers after knowledge invariably confessed that on reaching the
chambers which Mr Bradley entered they found themselves baffled. There were a lot of names at the entrance –
names of occupiers of offices in the building – but Ripponden not being used to
this perplexing multifariousness, confessed itself at a loss. It reminded one, in fact, of the remark made
in regard to clearances of familiar property in the metropolis – how that their
chambers being dissolving views the occupants themselves became mysterious
disappearances.
Undoubtedly,
Mr Bradley has remained for Ripponden the “man of mystery.” Stress is laid upon his “aristocratic
bearing” – he had a liberal hand, as the porters who are said to have almost
fought with each other at Sowerby Bridge Station for the privilege of serving
can testify. It is told with awe that he
once gave a porter at Victoria Station, Manchester, a half-sovereign “tip,”
which the porter thought a mistake for sixpence, and dutifully drawing the
donor’s attention to the fact, was reassured in quite lordly style that no
error had been committed.
About
a week before the Patent Novelties trial began Mr Bradley’s household furniture
and other effects, to say nothing of his fine pair of bays and carriage, were
sold by auction. The amount realized
from the sale is locally estimated at £1,200, and there were “high jinks” at
the local hostelries while the sale was “on.”
Much is thought of what the men from Manchester who attended the sale
did not say, and it is sagely observed by the wiseacres of Ripponden that these
gentry knew a lot.
Of
the coming and going of servants during Mr Bradley’s tenancy of Ryburn, there
would seem to have been almost literally no end. Mr Bradley does not appear to have taken
anybody in the village into his confidence, and (no doubt, necessarily) least
of all his servants. Butr, as has been
the role of servants from early times, some of his menials were afflicted with
an undue thirst for knowledge. As a
ruke, this thirst was seldom appeased. A
rough calculation puts the number of domestics who have enjoyed a fitful stay
at Ryburn at 200! It is in the memory of
the village fathers that a servant has been known to be cashiered on the very
day of arrival. But even this was not
regarded as betokening a harsh disposition.
With princely liberality the dismissed one was handed a month’s salary,
and sometimes even given an extra sovereign.
Dismissal under such circumstances was regarded as an exceedingly
pleasant experience. Once, it is said,
there were three sent off in one day.
Whatever
may have been the fate of a prophet, it is made clear enough at Ripponden that
Mr Bradley was not without honour among the people with whom he had made his
home. Apart from that irritating barrier
of reticence, they had no fault to find with him. At Sowerby Bridge Station he will be much
missed. It was the custom there to keep
a carriage reserved for his sole accommodation.
Of
Mr Bradley’s daily life Ripponden had no exact idea. He drove in his carriage and pair to the
railway station about ten every morning, and returned about four o’clock in the
afternoon; but beyond these somewhat unsatisfying details Ripponden was at a
loss. It did once say he might be “my
uncle,” but only a discredited minority held for long to that view. Against this theory was opposed the knowledge
of the luxury of life at Ryburn. Velvet
pile was talked about in reference to carpets, and amazing references were made
to jewelry and champagne – gossip even went so far as to enlarge on the
fittings of the gymnasium, and to hint at the setting up of a “theatre” at Mr
Bradley’s residence. Through it all,
however, Mr Bradley himself, to the great regret of Ripponden, kept outside the
radius.
Also revealing is a speech made by Walter Bradley during the trial:
Manchester Courier and Lancashire General
Advertiser - Thursday 24 April 1902
Bradley
opens his Defence
At half-past five in the afternoon Bradley commenced
to address the jury in his own defence.
The question at issue, he said, seemed to be chiefly one of motive, and
with a view to establishing the probity of his past career he entered into a
long autobiographical narrative, in which he mentioned that he was born in the
county of Lancaster 55 years ago and had never up to the time of the present
proceedings had any charge laid against him either public or private. After making allusion to what he called the
atrocious attack which had been made upon him, he said: “If you had looked into
the said face of loved ones which were once bright and bonny, and if you had
the knowledge I have of ruined [?] which have resulted from this attack made
upon me I think everybody would feel as I do.” No one, he continued, could
voice forth the indignation he felt at the charges brought against him, and at
the misconduct of those who had used the press, the courts, and the Treasury
for their own evil purposes. Continuing
his family history, Bradley described how, having been brought up without a
tr[?] in any business or profession, and finding himself on the death of his
father, 30 years ago, left in a responsible position as a land and mine [c?] he
turned his attention to other branches of enterprise. For a short time he was engaged as an African
merchant, but the vessel in which he was interested became a wreck, and he gave
that business up. At the time he was
living as a mine owner in Derbyshire he had certain business transactions with
Mr J. Cunliffe, who was a mill owner residing at Chorley. Cunliffe owed him
£20,000, and following the settlement of that account they became mutually
interested in certain inventions and patents, including a ball game, which was
being manufactured in Birmingham, London, and other places.
Fortunes
Made Easily
Whilst in London some of the wholesale houses
represented to him that great fortunes were being made out of monopolies of
that kind, and they said that if he (Bradley) could supply the ball game with
superior finish they could take them in such quantities that £10,000 a year
could be made out of them. That
statement, added Bradley, might appear to those who had not studied the
question to be a somewhat extravagant one, but to those who had studied the
profits to be derived from these apparently small things it was not extravagant
in any shape or form. He came down to
confer with the joint owner, Mr Cunliffe, and they arranged to use Mr
Tomlinson’s office as a meeting place.
In 1890 Cunliffe and he arranged to form a company with a view to
acquiring and dealing with the inventions and patents of which they were joint
owners. To embark, Breadley explained, into an ordinary trade was to lose money
from over competition and inexperience.
This consideration led him to a closer study of investments and to the
conclusion that for men who had not been Educated to any other occupation
undoubtedly the best opening lay in the direction of monopolies. After making exhaustive investigations he
found existing all around him a series of interesting and surprising facts. He
found a vast network of liberal incomes, which were being enjoyed by the
possessors of interest in monopolies, and that, in the majority of instances,
these incomes were derived from small and apparently trivial inventions.
Having thus partially accounted for his connection
with the company, Bradley commented in severe terms on the manner in which he
had been treated by the prosecution.
Complaint
Against the Prosecution
Such treatment, he said, was unworthy of the King in
whose name the Crown counsel acted, and he believed the King would bow his head
in shame if he knew if he knew that his advocate behaved in such a way. Did the court think, he asked, that he should
stand in the midst of them that day in all the disadvantage and inequality of
the fight which had been forced upon him if he did not feel that One was with
him who would justify him? What was the
cause, he asked, why he, in the name of his King and country, should be
surrounded by enemies and every species of wrong done to him. Various attacks, he continued, had been levelled
against him in regard to his name. The
explanation was very simple. His father
had lived and died beloved and honoured by all who knew him. His grandfather was a member of one of the
noble families of England. He married
into the Grosvenor family, and the descendants of his issue were the Grosvenor
Bradleys. This simple fact, which did
not concern anyone but the family, had been made the most malignant use of in
these proceedings, Bradley added that his conduct in life had been guided
largely by the dying counsel of his father, who sent for him at his bed side
and said, “You may make mistakes and lose money, but do your best for all and I
shall be satisfied.” “Since then,”
Bradley continued, “I have made mistakes and lost money, but one thing I have
lost money, but one thing I have not lost, and that is the knowledge that I
have done my best for all.” He did not,
he proceeded, claim to have made no mistakes, but if anyone accused him at any
time of having acted from corrupt motives, he could with a clear conscience
deny it. Those who accused him of paltry
aims or selfish inclinations were those who did not know him.
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