The Express and Advertiser
6 Dec 1905
Burglars & Incendiarism
Mr Tattersall Wilkinson's House Gutted
Library ans Curios Destroyed
Pathetic Scene at Extwistle
By a fire which occurred at his house in Extwistle at midnight on Monday, Mr Tattersall Wilkinson, the well-known local antiquarian, has been rendered homeless, bereft of the bock companions which for many, many years have been a solace to him in his rural retreat. His house, contiguous to Extwistle old mill, when one of our reporters saw it at noon yesterday, was a complete ruin, with nothing remaining beyond portions of the walls, whilst in the interior was a heap of smouldering embers of what had constituted the floors, the furniture, and the wooden beams. A thin cloud of smoke was ascending from the pile, making the whole countryside redolent with burning wood. In several places feeble, flickering flames were licking up what was left of ends of beams which penetrated the walls, putting the finishing touches to a scene which to numerous visitors during the day evoked the greatest sympathy for the man of eighty years who has been deprived of a home of which he was extremely fond. Mr. Wilkinson, who to hundreds of people in Burnley and district is better known as "Old Tatty," was lecturing on Monday night at the Congregational School, Nelson. At the close, he journeyed by tram to Burnley for the purpose of visiting an old friend, Mr. John Bradshaw, of Yorkshire-street. He stayed with him for a short time, and, after his tedious walk of over two miles, reached his domicile about midnight. Having entered, he detected burning, and glancing hastily around the place, he not only noticed that the house had been thoroughly ransacked, but that a sofa, which was stuffed with horse-hair and flocks, was on fire. The table, too, showed evidence of fire, for the cloth which had covered it previously had been burnt away. The delinquents had obtained an entry by the window, the catch of which had been disturbed, and, moreover, some flower-pots which were ranged across the window-sill had been knowcked of on to the floor by the burglars, and there the earthenware lay scattered about in fragments. The house was full of smoke. Mr. Wilkinson at once turned his attention to putting out by means of water the flames in which the sofa was enveloped. Having satisfied himself that he had effectually done this, he retired upstairs. However, he had not been long in bed when he heard a noise downstairs and thinking that the burglars had returned, he got out of bed, partially dressed himself and shouted out, but there was no reply. Nothing daunted, he armed himself with a loaded revolver, and sallied forth from his room. Instead of burglars, a terrorising spectacle confronted him. The house was on fire. There were two staircases to the house, yet notwithstanding he was filled with fear lest his retreat might be cut off. On opening the door at the top of one of these he was driven back by a fierce tongue of flame and volumes of dense smoke, which sent terror into the old man's heart. His next move was to the other staircase, and although smoke was curling its way up this, he managed to escape.
No sooner had he got outside than it was apparent that the fire had got a good hold, and that it was useless attempting to save the house and its contents with what means were at disposal in such an isolated place. Buckets of water, it was evident, would be of no avail and so the flames were allowed full play. A stiff breeze swept up the valley, and fanned the flames until they roared like a furnace. In that wild, outlandish spot, with no one but the aged sage gazing wistfully on at the fire as it wrought havoc amid so much that he held dear, his books, his antiquarian lore, the sight must have ben impressive in the extreme. At length the floors fell in with a crash, carrying with them beds and various articles of furniture, and then there was an upshot of flame which lit up the valley. "Tatty", sick at heart, barefooted, minus his coat and waistcoat, and with no cap or hat on his head, made his way as well as he was able up to Roggerham, where some of the farmers were roused from their slumbers, wondering what on earth was the matter at that unearthly hour, for by this time it was about one o'clock. A glance down the valley, however, showed there was ample cause for it. The fire still burned fiercely, and cast a lurid glare on the hills on either side. Some of the men hurried down to the house, only to find that they could be of no service there. "Tatty" then became the object of their solicitude, and whilst his own home was in an advanced stage of destruction he was given shelter for the night. With the break of day volumes of smoke were to be seen still issuing from the wrecked building and a close examination of the interior showed that the belongings of "The Seer of Roggerham", as "Tatty" is often spokn of, had all been consumed by the greedy flames. They included his library of 600 volumes, for the most part works on science and foreign languages, and the classics, many of them very valuable consequent upon their being out of print. Then his tripod telescope, which cost him £20, was destroyed, as also were numbers of curios, a quantity of prehistoric remains unearthed from the native moors, manuscripts of lectures, and a quantity of lantern slides of various kinds which he had had to illustrate his lectures. and some of which he only used on Monday night at Nelson. Mr. Wilkinson estimates his loss at about £150 this being in respect of the contents of the house only.
Mr Wiilkinson's Story
At noon yesterday an "Express" reporter found Mr. wilkinson seeking temporary shelter at the Roggerham Gate Inn, where several sympathetic friends from Burnley had gathered to listen to his story of the sad occurrence which had befallen him. Despite his losses, the old man was quite cheerful, and once or twice he remarked with a smile that there was "life in the old dog yet." his eyes had been much affected by the smoke. He was wearing a cap, coat, waistcoat, and shoes which. he said, had been given him. "When I got home," he said, "I knew in a minute there was something wrong. On going into the front room I found that was all upset, and drawers were thrown upon the floor. the intruders had helped themselves liberally to a box of cigars, which was only opened on sunday. All of them had gone, and the box left. I looked for my lantern, and could I have got a candle I should have gone and acquainted the police at Worsthorne about the matter. I thought I would go in the morning. The sofa I found to be smouldering, and the table-cloth had been burnt away. I rushed out with a can, got some water, and poured it over the sofa, and put out the flames for anything I knew. Then I went to bed, and directly I heard something fall down below. I thought the intruders had broken in again. Jumping out of bed I took a revolver, and called out "Who's there?" No answer came. Then I heard another fall, and on opening the bedroom door in rushed a large quantity of smoke. I rushed back, seized my trousers, and put them against my mouth to prevent the smoke from choking me. I made for one of the staircases. I shall never forget the sight which there met my eyes. There was a huge mass of flame, which prevented me even attempting to make the passage, so I went to the other staircase, down which I managed to get, and out by a side door. Other three minutes and I should have been a dead 'un. My dog was then missing. With no clothing on except my trousers and shirt, I made my way up here. I had been in the habit of going to the house of Levi Stanworth, the wtaer bailiff, just below, and it appears that my dog, which I left in the house when I left home in the afternoon, had gone there. A farmer told me he heard the dog barking between nine and ten o'clcok, at which time those persons would be in my house. It had evidently got out when they got in."
Asked if he had no opportunity of saving some of his belongings, Mr. Wilkinson remarked " It took me all my time to get myself out. Had I stopped in bed other three minutes I could not have got out."
"This," observed the old gentleman, "is the third time the house has been broken intow already this winter. Last winter it was broken into twice. I caught one of the thieves last winter and took the money from him, but did not proceed against him for the sake of his father and mother. Somebody, I think, does it for mere devilment. Because they could not get anything this time they set fire to the place. there was a sovereign's worth of coppers on a secret shelf, and as soon as I noticed the house had been entered I looked to see if they had gone. They had not. The coins are now amongst the ruins.
In concluding what was a most pathetic story, Mr. Wilkinson said he had "no doubt in my own mind that the case was one of incendiarism." Continuing, he observed: " Had I caught the persons in my house, I should not have hesitated for a moment to make use of my revolver. Whenever I approach the place at night it is always with my finger on the trigger."
Mr. wilkinson was not prevented by his great misfortune from giving a lecture at Padiham last night on "The Solar Eclipse of 1900," which he witnessed in Portugal.
_________________ Mel
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