From this newspaper 150 years ago (July 15, 1865)

MARIA MOSELEY, the daughter of the Reverend Richard Anderson of Bedale, arrived home with her new husband, Walter, at Buildwas Park in Shropshire.

“The wedding took place as long ago as September last, since which time they have been on a continental tour, including Italy, Germany and France,” said the D&S Times.

This Yorkshire girl had landed on her feet – the Moseleys had occupied Buildwas since the 16th Century, and the tenantry had decorated her private station especially for arrival.

The happy couple were taken in an open carriage through triumphal arches, and a brass band accompanied them on their journey as repeated volleys of fog signals were fired overhead.

The driveway to Buildwas Park was lined with children who each presented Maria with a bouquet.

The carriage horses were unshackled and stout ropes were attached to it, and it was drawn by strong estate workmen to the front of the hall, where they were greeted with speeches, blessings and immense cheering.

“A fine ox had been purchased and cut up for distribution among the cottagers, and tea was partaken of under a spacious tent by upwards of 400 women and children, while ale was distributed pretty freely to the men,” said the D&S Times.

Walter lavished a fortune rebuilding Buildwas Park for Maria to live in, but it was demolished after the Second World War.

Footnote: the paper also contained the result of the North Riding election, in which Sir Frederick Milbank of Barningham was returned as an MP. This column has been following the election in recent weeks, and suggested that a letter which appeared in the D&S Times in 1865 in support of Sir Frederick came from his sister, Augustus.

Jon Smith of the Barningham Local History Group points out that Augustus – who was always known as Sussex – was in fact Sir Frederick’s brother. He was educated in Paris, where he took part in the 1848 revolution, returned to Barningham and became a noted agricultural pioneer, creating a model farm. He died in 1887 in Monte Carlo, his winter retreat, while giving aid to earthquake victims.

From this newspaper 100 years ago (July 17, 1915)

The D&S Times welcomed the news that the British Government had banned people from sending canned goods to their young men who had been captured by the enemy.

The paper said: “The official prohibition of tins for sending foodstuffs to British prisoners of war in Germany is intended to cut off not merely a supply of tin to the enemy but also a readymade material for hand bombs.

“The British troops at the front themselves make good use of the tins in which they receive foodstuffs. Jam tins especially are all used up for bomb-making and a recent story from Ypres shows that they cause the enemy no small annoyance.

“The jam tins all bear the name of a well known British firm of jam makers, let us say Spooner, though that is not the real name.

“Sometimes the jam tin bombs fail to explode, and the Germans promptly pitch it back into the nearest British trench. A week or two ago, one such jam tin bomb was returned with a label attached to it. On the label was written: ‘Gott strafe Spooner’.

"Gott strafe England" – May God punish England – was a slogan used by the German army during the war, but now it was being invoked to bring the wrath of the Lord down on a family firm of jam-makers.

“Spooner” was obviously a riddle – what could the jam company’s real name have been?

From this newspaper 50 years ago (July 17, 1965)

A story headlined “When Northallerton fruit machine went wrong” really got Spectator’s goat.

The story told how four young men in the Old Golden Lion pub were playing the fruit machine when it developed a fault – it was dispensing its highest prize, a golden disc which could be exchanged in any pub in town for at least £5-worth of beer, at every pull of the handle.

The men kept putting in pennies, pulling the handle, and getting golden disc until they had 42, which cleaned the one armed bandit out.

Then they reported the fault to the landlord, and started some serious drinking. The landlord, though, called the police, and they were arrested. Magistrates found them guilty of stealing the discs, and fined them £5 each.

The chairman of the magistrates said: “When you found out the machine was faulty, you took a deliberately mean advantage to strip it. All of you ought to feel very ashamed of yourselves.”

The report said: “All four told the court they were sorry.”

But the paper’s Spectator columnist fumed at the unfairness: “If the fault had been in the opposite direction, and the machine paid out nothing, how many of us would conclude that it had gone wrong? Would we not merely suppose that it was just our usual luck, and give up trying?

“Unless the users of fruit machines demand a check whenever they are abnormally unwilling to disgorge, the one-armed bandit gets the best of both worlds.”