Research a slice of history; write it up and commit to print. Fate starts its clock from that moment, primed to wake you up in the night suddenly aware of a howling error or oversight in the text.
My undisturbed sleep lasted only a fortnight following delivery of my printed booklet on the life of the cricketer, Valentine Romney. I had overlooked the potential significance of an otherwise mundane date in the history of his working life.
As a star cricketer Romney was signed up as an estate worker at Knole in Sevenoaks, the base for young members of the Sackville family to coordinate Kent cricket. He worked there for about ten years, the arrangement ending in 1745, not long before he retired from the sport. In seeking to trace evidence of employment in his later years, my booklet notes: “in October 1757 Romney suddenly reappears amongst the list of garden workers in the weekly accounts at Knole.” My text then rambles on about assignments that involved “ hoeing turnips, cutting wood and making faggots.”
Anyone presuming to write about 18th century Kent should know that October 1757 was not a date to dwell on such domestic matters. The Militia Act of that year, directing each County to raise a force of able-bodied men, lacked popular support, to put it mildly. The Sackvilles, led by the Duke of Dorset as Lord Lieutenant of Kent, were of course loyal to the Crown and bent to their task.
There was unrest throughout the country and in the first week of October the otherwise sleepy town of Sevenoaks experienced a riot. Deputy Lieutenants from surrounding parishes had assembled in the Crown Inn to approve a “list” of men to form a West Kent Militia. Their business was forcefully terminated by a mob armed with “clubs and staves” who then smashed all the windows in the nearby rectory, before advancing on Knole itself, with like intent. A military-inspired counter-attack by the Sackvilles and their staff saw to it that twenty-two miscreants ended up either in Maidstone Gaol or in the House of Correction.
Romney’s return to Knole after a gap of 12 years began with four days of work in the week ending Saturday 8th October. The riot had taken place on the Monday of that week. My failure to speculate about a link between the two events was inexplicable. Were the estate workers part of the mob, creating unexpected vacancies for former workers? Might Romney have been re-engaged to restore the customary benign relationship between workers and masters, and/or to clear up damage to the grounds and house?
Through gritted teeth, I have belatedly done the necessary research to answer these questions. The story of the Sevenoaks riot has appeared in assorted publications over the years, with inevitable variation and embellishment. I’ve confined my attention to contemporary newspaper references and records of the West Kent Quarter Sessions held in Maidstone.
There are straightforward findings relevant to the questions about Romney. Most importantly, the troublemakers were not from Sevenoaks. The two ringleaders, subsequently indicted for “spreading of seditious papers in order to the stirring up the people,” came from Edenbridge. Joined by like-minded men from parishes such as Cowden and Westerham, the Edenbridge leaders believed they would gather support from the Sevenoaks area as they approached the town. This was their first mistake, as “only some few” were “forced” on the “March to Sevenoaks” and none featured on the charge sheet.
The absence of sympathisers from Sevenoaks denied the protesters local knowledge and may have contributed to their downfall. Fired up by scaring the wits out of the civic authorities, meeting no resistance, they resolved that “they would break all the Windows about Knowle.” Advancing into the Park with such intent overlooked that the Sackville home had preserved its classic defences, complete with fortified courtyard and gates designed to resist unwelcome visitors. Worse still, the occupants of the house included two of the most battle-hardened soldiers in England. The Duke’s youngest son, George, had led his regiment with distinction at the Battle of Fontenoy in 1745 and was party to many campaigns under the leadership of “butcher” Duke of Cumberland. With Lord George at Knole was his aide-de-camp, Captain John Smith, a career soldier.
To imagine that these two characters would stand idle as a mob from Edenbridge broke the windows of the Knole mansion was folly indeed. An eyewitness inside the house takes up the story:
We got all of us under arms in an Instant, to the amount of Ten or a Dozen, with Muskets and fixed Bayonets, Pikes &c. Capt John Smith, Aid de Camp to Lord George Sackville, with his servant, sallied out, the Gates being shut after them, and rode into the midst of them, upon which they cried one and all to stand, but the Gates being immediately opened, and the Servants rushing out, with their bayonets fixed, they instantly dispersed, and it seemed like a general Pursuit. We took 22 of them Prisoners.
At the court proceedings in the subsequent Quarter Sessions, one of the two presiding justices was Lord George Sackville himself, not the most convincing example of British impartiality. But the sentencing comes across as lenient, as though he opted to downplay the episode. At a time when this court regularly punished petty larceny with transportation to the colonies of North America, the two ringleaders of the Sevenoaks riot escaped with a fine of £15 and 14 days imprisonment; the remainder were fined less than five shillings. The indictments excluded any reference to disorder or damage at Knole.
As Valentine Romney worked only four days in that week, we cannot be sure whether he was at Knole on the fateful day, to be locked down in the big house for safety and then equipped with a makeshift weapon from the Duke’s medieval collection. Romney was then approaching 60 years of age.
As for the timing of his return to work, it appears to be coincidence after all. That week saw an unusual increase in the number of garden workers from 6 to 12. The additions included two “boys” as well as the ageing Romney. Planting 850 Scots Pine trees is the likely explanation. Each hole required, digging, planting, “moulding”, and “mulching and staking.” These tasks took a over month. The Duke had a penchant for planting trees at scale.
I have been lucky in this affair. My booklet’s association of Romney’s return to work at Knole with domestic gardening is inadvertently rather accurate. Any mention of the riot might have added colour to the text, but no substance to its subject.
But fear of exposure of errors or omissions lingers on. Only last week I stumbled across a Google search result for “Valentine Romney” promising that a 1930s sale catalogue of 18th century engravings included “Valentine Romney by J. R. S. W. Reynolds.” I fled to the Bodleian horrified that I could have overlooked such a priceless resource. Brief scrutiny of the old pages in the time-honoured manner swiftly revealed that Google had mangled three quite separate references in the text. These mentioned George Romney the artist, Valentine Green the engraver, and S.W.Reynolds, another engraver, unrelated to Sir Joshua.
Not for the first time, the technology is just too clever by half.
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Contemporary source material informing this article:
Kent Archives:
Oct 6, 1757, letter from B.Papillon at Lee to David Papillon at Acrise
West Kent Quarter Sessions: Indictment Roll – Jan 1758 and Minute Book – 1753-1763
Knole Accounts for Labour 1750-1758
Kentish Weekly Post or Canterbury Journal
Wednesday 12 October 1757 (includes “Extract of a letter from Knowle in Kent, Oct 5” quoted above), and Wednesday 18 January 1758
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The Life of Valentine Romney by William Gunyon, self-published 1st May, 2026; 62pp pbk, fully illustrated. A limited edition of 250 numbered copies.
Available at £10 from J.W.McKenzie Specialist Cricket Bookseller, as sole distributor.