’Hello, I’m Judith, I’m glad you found me. John Kyrle was my uncle, well actually he was a more distant relative, but he was like a father to me. My sister Elizabeth and I came to live with him when we were very young and he was 51. I was lucky to have 36 happy years with him before he died. m Judith Bubb, John Kyrle was a relative of mine. My sister, Elizabeth and I came to live with him in his fine house by the Market House, when we were very young, I can’t even remember any other life. He was 51 when we came. I was lucky to have 36 happy years with him before he died.
I was twelve when he built this place. I remember coming here with my sister and playing around the fountain. It was such fun, the water seemed so clean and fresh and we thought it was magical that it could be pumped up here from the river. The people in the town were so grateful for the gift of The Prospect but also for the water that was pumped down into the town from the fountain. But it didn’t last, there were problems and Uncle John made mistakes.
Early on he altered the lease on the Prospect land to William Fisher. He’d originally given him permission to keep sheep there but in 1714 he changed things to allow pigs. The pigs made a terrible mess and soon the beautiful Prospect was all mud and people stopped coming.
The other problem was with the fountain. It worked well to start with, but soon the wooden pipes started to leak and quite spectacular fountains sprang up all the way up the hill where the water started to escape. Things got so bad that the fountain was dismantled and filled in in 1794.
There were so many other good things that we used to do together for the folk of Ross. I particularly remember how I had to make up medicines for people when they were sick; and we prepared food for the poor people and gave it out at the Market House, which was just next door to ours.
We also attended a lot of funerals, especially when people died and had no one interested enough to go, we went along to be kind. My uncle loved St Mary’s, he went there every day. His best friend was the Rector there, Dr Charles Whiting. In fact they are buried next to each other in the church, my uncle by his feet.
I tell you a bit more in my video. Take a look when you get a moment.