Talk:Harold Davidson/Archive 1

[Untitled]
The Conviction and aftermath portion seems confusing. It mentions the barrel incident twice, once in 1932 and then in 1935. The second paragraph appears to run before the first chronologically, seemingly indicating that the barrel event did happen in 35?

Maury 21:08, 22 Jun 2005 (UTC)


 * They were separate incidents. In 1932, Davidson was prosecuted by the police for aiding and abetting Luke Gannon in causing an obstruction to the highway (the appearance in the barrel was truncated by the police). In 1935, having found somewhere to perform the stunt which did not obstruct the highway, the Blackpool Corporation prosecuted for attempting suicide. David | Talk 21:16, 22 Jun 2005 (UTC)


 * Got it. You may wish to incorporate the above into the main article. Maury 12:14, 23 Jun 2005 (UTC)

"After being defrocked he returned to his former life as an entertainer, and was killed by a lion he was performing with when he accidentally trod on its tail." How unfortunate! - Ta bu shi da yu 03:39, 23 Jun 2005 (UTC)

NPOV of lead section
This is an NPOV article, except for the lead section. I've modified it, but I still think it could be better:


 * Harold Francis Davidson (July 14, 1875 – July 30, 1937) was a British Church of England Rector, who was famous as the 'Rector of Stiffkey' defrocked in 1932 for his licentious lifestyle, though this has been disputed by his descendants. After being defrocked he returned to his former life as an entertainer, and was killed by a lion he was performing with when he accidentally trod on its tail.

It needs to be noted that the evidence was slim. - Ta bu shi da yu 03:45, 23 Jun 2005 (UTC)

I have added detail to the story of the assault by one of his churchwardens. I think this gives fairer treatment of the churchwarden, and casts an interesting light on how the affair was viewed more widely.

I changed the wording of the timing of the incident from "farewell service" to "last service". This detail was not included in the story as I heard it locally, and it seems improbable that any farewell service took place -- the rector was unlikely to hold one before the trial, and he would not have been able to hold one afterwards. This sounds like a cinematic invention. Is there anything to show that the incident was associated with a service at all? Oak 22:08 28 October 2005 (UTC)


 * See The Times for October 15, 1932: "The Rev. Harold Davidson, giving evidence, said that on August 21 he had taken a farewell service at Stiffkey ...". David | Talk 22:27, 28 October 2005 (UTC)

An interesting indication of his frame of mind, but not of course proof of guilt.

Also interesting that local legend had reduced the scale of the fine(s) -- though even GBP1 per offence must have been a token amount for someone of Major Hamond's resources. Oak

Comments by 82.35.82.97 placed on the article
No, all documents are not in the public arena yet. The rector's letters and papers only came to light ten years ago and were restored to the rector's grandaughter who holds the original papers pertaining to the trial and much else given to her over the years. They await publication and relate the true story of what happened not the creation based solely on media sensationalising after his death. Modern writers refer only to the media reporting. They tend not to research the factual evidence, which confirms the rector's innocence and sheds new light on the background to the trial. A web site is now in preparation exclusively devoted to the Rector. Stiffkey is pronounced as it is written not STEWKY at all. The name is a combination of two old english words brought over by William the Conqueror: SIFF = safe and QUAY = harbour. Siffkay eventually became stiffkey. The harbour was used for coammerce in the middle ages when there were many markets along the coastline and boats would come into Stiffkey as the safest place in the area. &mdash;The preceding unsigned comment was added by 82.35.82.97 (talk • contribs) probably Karilyn Collier (Davidson's Granddaughter).

Cleanup tag
I added a cleanup tag for the following reasons: The pictures are great. I'm not an expert on refs so I can't comment on the status thereof.--Anchoress 12:36, 23 May 2006 (UTC)
 * 1) Copyediting; I did a bit but it probably needs more;
 * 2) Prose; the prose is not very 'sizzling'. It needs a lot of tightening, particularly in the latter middle sections, which have a lot of choppy sentences and confusing pronouns. Overall, it could just be a lot sharper, I think the whole article could be 1/4 to 1/3 shorter to make it less rambling and more readable. Not to be flippant, but a lot of the narrative has a 'penny dreadful' tone to it, more like 'true crime' than an encyclopedia;
 * 3) Content; there is a lot of unencyclopedic minutae, again, particularly in the latter half, and the last two or three sections are quite maudlin and POV.

NPOV and Verfication
The entire article is extremely non-neutral, with several asides bemoaning the treatment of Davidson. Also, none of the statements are cited so the whole thing is unverifiable. Grammar and punctuation isn't so hot, either. Needs a lot of work, I'm afraid. K e rowyn Leave a note 03:04, 31 December 2006 (UTC)


 * When I wrote the original it was based largely on a thorough search of the Times Digital Archive. Then an anon came in and added a whole lot more, clearly from a very knowledgable base but equally clearly a firm believer in Davidson's total innocence. It was always going to be a heck of a job going through and separating baby from bathwater. Fys. &#147;Ta fys aym&#148;. 23:57, 31 December 2006 (UTC)


 * Point. Maybe we should revert to that, and move the current article to the talk page where we can go over it thoroughly. I hate leaving the article as is on the main page. K e rowyn Leave a note 02:32, 5 January 2007 (UTC)


 * The anon seems to be Karilyn Collier, Davidson's Granddaughter K9ine 23:15, 1 July 2007 (UTC)

Death in the Daily Mirror
I have just come across four Daily Mirrors concerning his death:

Thursday, July 29, 1937: Front and back pages: Lion attack is lead story with good picture of 'Mr. Davidson, in the cage at Skegness, with Freddie, the lion which mauled him.' Rescued by 16 year old Renee Somer, a girl attendant. She entered cage and used whip and iron bar. Renee was from London and previously toured with Allen's Menagerie Davidson tripped over Toto the lioness. Davidson in a "very grave" condition at Skegness Cottage Hospital. Dr. O'Neill believed the ex-rector would recover. Tuesday of last week, two policemen arrested him for an unpaid fine. A week later he was given 15 days to pay a £7 8s fine for trespass at Victoria Station London.

Friday, July 30 1937: Back page: Picture or Rene Somer outside cage of Freddie the lion. Neck and collar-bone broken, back and hands badly lacerated. regained consciousness and speaking to to his son and two daughters.

Saturday, July 31 1937: Page 3: Mr Davidson died, daughters with him (Miss C P Davidson and Mrs S Johnstone). Mrs Davidson arrived later. The show closed two hours later. Inquest to-morrow. Page 4: Five-year fight against church ban.

The main article states: The injury was not severe; the lion was old, toothless and sedated. However, the photo in the Mirror clearly shows Mr Davidson with the Lion which seems to have teeth! His neck and collar-bone were broken according to the Mirror. He was unconscious for a while although he may have been sedated? Another web site states that the lions teeth were removed a few years before. I note that this section seems to have been inserted by Karilyn Collier (Davidson's Granddaughter) which adds some credence. Looking at the photo, perhaps the teeth are not very sharp and it looks like the bottom teeth may be missing. I also notice that Karilyn Collier's website has a postcard of Davidson at the Famous Barrel Exhibition in Blackpool dated 1933

K9ine 21:42, 1 July 2007 (UTC)

One of the Daily Mirror reports above on Harold Davidson quotes his daughter's married name as S. Johnstone. As Harold Davidson's geat grandson, I can assure everyone, that his daughter's name was Sheilagh St. Johnston (my maternal grandmother). As the Johnston/e name originates the St. Johnston name it is obviously an honest mistake but shows how poor reporting leads to errors of fact. Perhaps the Rector of Stiffkey's eccentric behaviour was also hyperbolically exagerated by such poor reporting and the ill will of his enemies. I hope there is no confusion with later reports about my family as my brother has by coincedence married a Johnstone woman.

Nicholas Roach-eccentric great grandson of Harold Davidson (and proud). —Preceding talk) 03:14, August 27, 2007 (UTC)

The story in a nutshell
Now deep in Darkest Norfolk lie a quaint and sleepy place, that saw a National scandal, yes, it were a damned disgrace. A man was brought to justice so that decency prevailed, The Reverend Harold Davidson were well and truly nailed.

Little Jimmy, as he were known amongst his congregation, were generally well respected but had caused some consternation. As cos his calling lead him out his parish thrice a week to seek out fallen women and see to them, so to speak.

The rector was a learned man, an Oxford grad n all, had paid his way by acting and seemed way beyond a fall. A gap year tourin France, ya know, a comic mining act, but never got reviews the like he was later to attract.

1906 this man arrived in ‘Stewkey’ by the coast, 5 foot three in Sunday shoes, a larger bloke than most, and when the Great War needed men his collar hid him not, he signed and did his duty, yes, but God he’d not forgot.

Returning home he found his wife, to test all his conviction, had acquired in absentia the strangest of affliction. Though rumour and conjecture had brought forward the deception his stoic faith could accept an immaculate conception!

Poor chap were devastated to discover that their lodger had repaid all her kindnesses quite freely with his todger, And so a daughter he would love and treasure as his own was born a few months later and the vicar’s shame was known.

This unexpected turmoil threw him deep into his work, but in a village of 300 he could hardly go berserk. Souls he sought to save and heal were further from his church, so he set off down to London to do himself some research.

His tireless devotion to this dark and pious cause attracted it’s detractors as it drew to him applause. For down in Piccadilly were his targets of pursuit, our righteous, kindly revered sought girls of ill repute.

Now had he stuck to travelling to satisfied this need; to save those helpless sinners it is generally agreed that all’d have been just rosey, but Harold lost his track, as steadily and surely he began to bring them back.

He cheerfully admitted that he liked to save ‘em young, ‘A better chance of saving them’ slipped proudly from his tongue. It seem that young and pretty were components in his plan, Could yer doubt the honesty, integrity of this man?

Now obliging girls are popular in a quiet, moral haunt, the local boys were grateful for some quite prepared to flaunt, and so the scene was set for tales of conspiracy and deed, as the subject of this ditty went and satisfied his need.

When the village did commemorate Armistice Day one year ‘The Prostitutes Padre’ was the only one not there, this upset the surley Verger, once a military man, who notified the Bishop and so the great downfall began.

‘consorting with his trollops’, a religious trial indeed, a succession of poor witnesses now perfectly agreed, from teenage tarts to landladies, though the evidence accrued, Harold would not accept his lot, he’d been well and truly screwed.

Indignantly he protested it, his innocence to all, in a noisy public spectacle most certain to enthral. The highlight of the case it seemed did him little to support, but captivated journalists and well amused the Court.

Now presented with a word you see he professed his ignorance, and so required prompting as he maintained his naïve stance, he knew not was a ‘buttock’ was, so a photo clear and bare, was shown of the randy Reverend holding a perfect pair.

Defrocked, he lost his ministry, prosecution followed suit, he mounted some appeals but he lost those too to boot, so compulsive was his need and drive to publicise, proclaim, he started off a campaign to make clean his sullied name.

Well obviously the ears were deaf, and so frustration grew, a Burnley showman heard his plight, well what was he to do, offered him a pitch upon Blackpool’s gay promenade, he placed him in a barrel to preach on with his crusade.

Eager gawkers they amassed to pay the tuppence fee, as Harold browsed the transcripts and sifted through the debris. The attraction proved so popular that the Burghers closed it down, curtailed his new showbiz career and drove him out of town.

A hunger strike fell foul the law, a further prosecution, was this bad luck that followed him or Devine retribution, the Jonah theme continued with another kick in the teeth, when next he topped the billing with a whale on Hampstead Heath.

An entertainer through and through, he’d entertained so much, further roles of comedy proved he hadn’t lost his touch. He followed with a Fakir act, upon a nailed bed, a frozen act, a roasted act…. and finally one dead.

As he was afraid of animals this bit’s a rum ol do, when he turned up in Skegness to perform inside a zoo, he’d stand around, berate the Church before a gathered throng, then enter in a metal cage where men just don’t belong.

Freddie was such a lazy lion, his companion toothless too, but they enjoyed poor Harrold then without the need to chew. Though no known views upon the church their behaviour was appalling, as one night they shot across the cage and gave our man a mauling.

Freddie pinned Harold to the floor and tore him with his claws, and held and licked and sucked at him, confined within those jaws. Thus lost within the Lion’s Den, to rapturous applause, another violent end arrived to a religious cause.

Just a few more points to note of the man whom I endorse, his life was not this simple, no, far more colourful of course. There were tabloid hacks and covert stings, petitions to great men, and lewd and bawdy gossip, well I shan’t go there again. But surely his most audacious move, where he’d have so needed the rub, was submitting his application to Manage Blackpool Football Club, clearly this soul had lost its mind, though would not have drawn such pity if he’d gone down to Carrow Road to try and manage City! —Preceding unsigned comment added by 78.150.103.62 (talk) 16:33, 19 February 2009 (UTC)