WITH murderers, rapists and sheep-stealers pleading for leniency and councillors demanding higher rate charges and better services, Appleby’s multi-purpose Shire Hall was once a source of much local news. Now it is back in the headlines because of the reported sale of the building.

Twice a year, in spring and autumn, the hall was given a tinge of pomp and ceremony by the Appleby Assize Court — a spectacular occasion steeped in the history of centuries.

With church bells ringing, the judge was driven through the town in a Rolls Royce, headed by fanfare-blowing trumpeters in gold-braided black jackets and escorted by white-gloved policemen. On the first day the Clerk of Assize rose to read out the Queen’s Commission of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery and Assize. Major trials followed.

Criminal business declined in the post-war years and the last Appleby Assize was held in October, 1970, when Judge Brabin offered words of condolence: “Appleby has not experienced the growth and influx of people that other places have. It has not, therefore experienced the increase in crime.”

The Shire Hall retained a legal role for some years, for Appleby magistrates had their courtroom there and it was also the venue for many inquests, conducted by local solicitor William Scorer, the North Westmorland coroner, sitting with a jury.

Bill Scorer preferred to record the evidence personally, in rather laborious longhand, and inquests were seldom brief affairs.

He probed many accidents on the busy A66 road, as well as river drownings, farm fatalities, suicides and other tragedies.

The hall was also headquarters of North Westmorland Rural Council, presided over for many years by J. W. (Jack) Millray, of Shap, until reorganisation in 1974 saw smaller authorities displaced by Eden District Council.

Shire Hall, a building rich in controversy, spread over many years, is now a cause celebre in itself and seems likely to provide more stories for newsmen in the kerfuffle over its future ownership and use.

FROM CHEQUES TO “CHEERS”

Penrith is a town of eye-catching transformations, as buildings change in style and purpose after many years.

For instance, a substantial sandstone building on the west side of King Street, for many years a bank, has become the Blue Jay Way, described as a contemporary wine bar and coffee lounge.

In what was originally the town branch of Westminster Bank and then of Trustee Savings Bank, cheques, statements and overdrafts have been displaced by coffee, sandwiches, cakes and drinks of all descriptions.

Overhead panels flash repetitively and colourfully, giving a trendy atmosphere to the interior of the building, but the main talking point is the title, selected by the owners, Edward and James Cowin, of Culgaith.

Originally the name of a street in Los Angeles, Blue Jay Way become widely known when it was chosen by The Beatles as the theme of one of the songs they recorded, and this came to mind when a title was sought for the new bar.

A leisurely coffee, with a sandwich, makes the place more welcoming than having to queue to cash a cheque or for an interview with the bank manager.

King Street is full of surprises these days, for one of the old pubs of Penrith, the Grapes, now attracts fashion-conscious women in its new role as the Coy Boutique.

Penrith was once famous — perhaps the word should be notorious — for its number of public houses and hotels. The loss of “locals” in post-war years has been amazing.

“MR. LOVEJOY’S” PENRITH LINK

Rotary Club dinners are convivial occasions, made more memorable by one or two lighthearted speeches, full of jokes.

The Penrith club “hit the jackpot” in terms of enjoyment 50 years ago, for the main speaker at their charter night dinner at the George Hotel was a professional entertainer of national fame.

He was Harry Korris who, as well as being a prominent Rotarian in north-west England, was the star of the popular BBC radio show, Happidrome, known to audiences as “Mr. Lovejoy.”

He was supported by two other comedians, introducing the act with a catchy song, “We three in Happidrome, working for the BBC, Ramsbottom and Enoch and me.”

Club president John Kirlew and fellow Rotarians enjoyed Harry’s humour in 1957, when he was also revealed a personal association with Penrith. Fifty years earlier, in the early-1900s, he had spent a lot of time in town, where a brother kept the Ship Hotel and, later, the Two Lions.

The Penrith club celebrates another year of achievement later this month.

“LAAL” TOMMY

To be well remembered in a close-knit town like Penrith does not depend on personal wealth, heroism or achievement.

Take the case of Tommy Borrowdale, a crippled newsvendor and one of the characters of the town, who battled against adversity and infirmity throughout his life.

At one time he had a pony and cart and tried to make a living as a goods carrier, but he is best remembered as “Laal Tommy”, who sold evening newspapers in all weathers from a stand beside the Musgrave Monument clock, in the centre of town.

It is just 50 years since the death of the game little man. In a half-column obituary, the Herald recorded how, as a boy, Tommy had to be wheeled in a chair to Robinson’s Infants’ School and the Boys’ National School, but received awards for being “Never absent, never late”.”