Oyez, Oyez, Oyez!
We meet Paul Goring, a man who has worn many hats: Toastmaster, Tour Guide, Publican, Accountant, Town Sergeant and Rye’s very own Town Crier.
WARNING! This chat took place on the very spot of a gruesome murder. So be warned; details will follow.
Town Crier - Paul Goring, at the gates to Rye Town Hall, Market Street, Rye TN31 7LA. Town Council and Information Point.
Have you always lived in the area?
Paul. The Goring’s are a Sussex family. We have been in Sussex since the Norman conquest. I was born in Hastings and I’ve been coming to Rye my entire life. My earliest memories as a toddler were being brought here by my aunt. Back in 2016, I was appointed to be the Deputy Town Crier, then moved up to be the full Town Crier and Town Sergeant in 2018. Originally the Town Sergeant was a very important chap in the town; he would oversee the law, order and defence of the town. A large part of the job became redundant after the police force was introduced in Rye, but the job has been kept on as a ceremonial role. If you attend any of the actual council meetings (not the Zoom meetings), you’ll see me there. I walk in front of the Mayor carrying a mace, tell them all when to stand, sit down and start. Any civic processions we have here in Rye, for example Remembrance Sunday or St George’s Day, I will be at the front of the parade carrying a mace. We’ve got two enormous Georgian maces here; myself and the other Mace-Bearer will be carrying those. At a civic function, I act as Toastmaster, announcing the speakers and so forth. It’s fun. The role itself is as old as the role of Town Crier. We know that there was a Town Crier and a Town Sergeant appointed at least as far back as 1289.
What is your background?
Paul. My day job, I am an accountant; I worked for a company in Hastings for well over 20 years and then a similar job in Stourbridge for 18 months. When that company moved to Sheffield, I decided to leave that job and took on the day-to-day running of a friend’s pub for a year, over near Stroud, eventually moving back to Hastings and back into accountancy.
How did you get the job of a Town Crier?
Paul. I like to tell the tourists that in St Mary’s Church, there is a stone, and embedded in that stone is a very old handbell, along the edge of it, it reads Whoever pulls this bell from the stone, is rightfully town crier of Rye . . .
But in real life, Rex, my predecessor, announced that he was going to retire. So they put an advert in the paper, and I applied for it. I do weddings, as a qualified Toastmaster, in the red coat and white bow tie. So it seemed like a natural progression. So many people pointed out the advert and said that is the job for you. So I applied for it, and I was the lucky one that got the job.
Day one of the job, do you just turn up or is there a how to be a Town Crier handbook?
Paul. No! If anybody wants me to do an announcement, I run it past the council first and they give me the OK and other people contact the council directly. The council tells me what I can and can’t do. The main duty is weddings, if you get married at the Town Hall, the Town Crier will announce your wedding to the town and he’ll then lead you through the streets ringing his bell. For example, The George might say to people, have your wedding ceremony at the town hall, then the Town Crier will walk you down to The George for your reception.
Also the call, Oyez, oyez, oyez! Oyez is a Norman French word which is just mean hear me or listen. The Town Crier’s job originally was to announce new laws and the word Oyez actually stems right back from that original proclamation. I have to end an announcement with God bless old England and the ancient town of Rye and may God save the Queen.
The tricorn hat, long socks, the uniform is made to measure. There are two bodies that govern the professional Town Criers, The Ancient and Honourable Guild of Town Criers and The Loyal Company of Town Criers, I belong to both of those. So I’ve got their badges on one side of my cape. On the other side, I’ve got the Baron’s Seal of Rye, it is a medieval ship with its sail up and the Rye Cinque Port Patch.
Also, you do guided tours around town?
Paul. That is right. Sometimes people on my tour that have spent the evening at the Mermaid Inn tell me things like, I was staying in The Kingsmill Room and the rocking chair went off in the middle of the night! People are interested in the smuggler’s tunnels; I know a lot of the cellars of the houses have interlinked tunnels. The Mermaid Inn has several famous tunnels underneath, which I believe are not actually blocked off but closed off.
“I always advise tourists, go up the St Mary’s Church Tower, it is one of my favourite places in Rye, the views are amazing.”
Have you seen a change in Rye over the years?
Paul. I’d say over probably 20 odd years, yes, very gradually. In the 1970s and the 1980s, it was very much a working town. You had proper traditional shops on the high streets, and galleries and coffee shops have gradually replaced them. I think that is one thing that is always going to be a challenge. We want to attract tourists; tourism is our lifeblood, and we love the creative element, too; the balancing act is keeping Rye a real town for Ryers (locals) at the same time. The people of Rye, well, they love their town. There are so many surnames here from 500, 600 years ago, still living in Rye, that says so much!
“It is an amazing town, there is always something going on and there is a creative buzz that has built up over 20 or so years.”
Please tell me about the place where we are?
Paul. We are sitting right now in St Mary’s Churchyard, the site where a murder took place in 1743. It started when James Lamb, (the Mayor of Rye) fined John Breads for selling short weights of meat. John Breads took the fine badly; he was an alcoholic, his wife had died, leaving him with two young children to bring up and then eventually on the 17th March 1743, when he was very drunk, John Breads decided that he wanted to kill James Lamb. John knew that James Lamb was going to a function aboard a ship, down by the Ypres. John came to this churchyard and hid, possibly behind that tree, with his butcher’s knife in his hand and shortly after midnight he saw the mayor’s red coat come through the churchyard. John jumped out from behind the tree and stabbed him to death. Unfortunately, he got the wrong man. He had killed James’ brother-in-law, Allen Grebell, who had gone to the function instead of James Lamb, as the deputy mayor. As both the mayor and the deputy mayor wear red cloaks, he killed the deputy instead of the mayor. He then ran around the town half-naked, apparently boasting that he had killed the mayor, shouting, Butchers should kill Lambs!
So he was very quickly caught and put on trial. His judge was James Lamb, the man he had intended to kill. James Lamb took it very personally and not only sentenced him to death, but after he was hanged his body was also strapped into an iron gibbet cage and displayed on Gibbet Marsh for over 50 years. That cage still exists, in the Town Hall attic, as does the top of John Breads skull!
There is only one way to find out more, by taking one of Paul’s guided tours!
Call: 07754 359339 | ryeguidedwalks@btinternet.com | www.ryeguidedwalks.com
