Many people stand on their principles at some point or another – few follow those principles to jail. Herbert followed his to jail not once but twice…but his principle was that he wouldn’t pay child support “and would not be made by the best man breathing”. We can’t all be heroes!
There isn’t much to say about Herbert beyond his decade-long turmoil in the courts over bastardy arrears owed to Hannah Crowther over their son John. Everyone here was a real living person though, so here’s what we know outside of this.
Herbert was born in 1862 to Charles and Mary Jane (Mason) Howarth of Queen Street. If you’ve followed us for a while then you know the story of some of his siblings, namely George Howarth, Mary Howarth Sefton and Richard Newsome Howarth. (Side note: we are using Howarth as the spelling throughout this story, but as the sexton’s book spelled his name “Howorth” we are using that spelling in the story title)
Herbert’s story was straightforward. He grew up at Cobden and became a cotton weaver, and until 1891 his life was indeed just one of working. He did have some outside interests though, and one of these was his former neighbour Hannah.
Hannah Crowther had lived next door to the Howarths in 1881 and was herself engaged in some extracurricular activities which led to her having four children between 1883 and 1886, including a set of twins. Sadly Hannah’s children were all subject to the perils of life pre-antibiotics and would all die before 1887 was out. Only one of her children lived, and that was her son John, born in 1891. John’s father was our man Herbert. Herbert, however, had his doubts.
Not turning up before the magistrate’s was the start of years of a will-he-won’t-he tussle between Hannah and Herbert over money for their son. Sometimes Herbert would pay, but often he wouldn’t. Things came to a head in September 1900 when Herbert was finally sent to prison for a month due to arrears that he said he couldn’t pay because he had no money. He was released, and then he went back to not paying. Hannah brought him to court again in April 1901, when she recounted him uttering the quote from the start of this story: that the best man breathing would not make him pay.
By October 1902 things had gotten even worse. Herbert now owed nearly £12, and had run away from Todmorden altogether to avoid his responsibilities! Hannah was getting desperate due to some poor health which isn’t explained beyond her pleas to not be responsible for any costs in the case, which was agreed by the bench. Herbert was caught in Stockport and extradited back to Tod where he explained to the magistrates that he could pay nothing because he “ha’ nort”.
Herbert had also, by this time, angered the magistrates with what they and Hannah saw as him playing with them. He had repeatedly promised to pay, only to then say he would pay nothing, then when faced with sentencing would suddenly say he’d had a change of heart and would pay. Records show Herbert’s time in prison for non-payment over these two years…but did he actually ever pay? He went to prison for a month in November 1902, at which point he owed £13, but that was the last time he was in court. Maybe he, or someone in his family, finally made an offer to Hannah that she felt was fair?
One only wonders what his son thought of all this!
Herbert went back to work and ended up living with his widowed sister Mary, her daughters, and his brother John William. They were all there living together in 1911 at 12 Queen Street. Unfortunately in September 1912 Herbert lost his job, and after a few days of drinking, he left the house on the morning of October 3rd and never came back. His siblings never thought that he might be suicidal or even melancholy, saying that he never had any trouble except for having lost his job so recently, and that if he did he never talked about it or hinted at it while at home. His body was not found until November, when a worker at Dan Crabtree’s in Eastwood went up to Staups Dam (near Great Rock) to check the water levels, and found his body there in the mud at the bottom of the reservoir. The reservoir is still there today – ignore the present marker for Staups Dam, the reservoir is what was formerly known as the dam.
His hat was still in his hand, he had no injuries, and it was clear that he must have gone there specifically as it was hardly somewhere one would end up without intending to end up there. The jury was out as to motivations but they agreed that it was a suicide.
What a sad and strange end to Herbert’s story, almost unsatisfactory…for all his faults, he was someone whose faults were clearly forgiven by his immediate family, and he was part of a very strong family unit in the house on Queen Street. What on earth happened? Was the loss of this job – not his first job loss by any stretch – really so impactful? It’s a reminder that we cannot know the thoughts of others. We might have some evidence to allow us to make a guess, but not always. Poor Herbert – he didn’t deserve this. Very few would.