Passage to Australia

George Garner 1858 - 1926

George Garner had more than a touch of wanderlust in his blood.  While his relatives stayed put in his home county of Nottingham, George was clearly determined to see more of the world, and ended up about as far away from England as it is possible to be, in New Zealand.

George, my great great grandfather, was born in Hucknall in 1858 to Eber (featured in last week's blog) and Mary Ann Garner. The census of 1871 shows that at 13 he was still at home, and working as a winder, winding hanks of thread onto bobbins for his father and elder brothers to use for their framework knitting.

By the age of 23 the desire to travel had clearly kicked in, and he was working as a bricklayer in London, where he met his wife Mary Goodwin.  They married at St James' parish church in Clerkenwell on December 5 1880. George and Mary’s first child, George Alfred Eber, was born within the year, in Islington, London.  The family evidently moved back to Hucknall at some point over the following year, where John Edward (my great grandfather) was born in 1882.  George and Mary’s story goes a little hazy now, as nothing is known of George until he emigrated to Australia and re-married, leaving both of his children behind with relatives.  His re-marriage, and the fact that his two sons had to go to other members of the family, convinces me that Mary Ann must have died, even though I've not yet been able to find a record of it.  

The S S Dacca

 Records show that George and his wife-to-be Ellen Kirby Tomlin left London on 5 June 1886 on the SS Dacca, a steam ship, and arrived at Brisbane  in Queensland, Australia on 24 July 1886.  They both travelled under the name Garner, although they weren't yet married.  I suspect that this, together with leaving his children behind, were probably due to Queensland’s immigration rules.  Although they did change over the years, there are rules from 1856 which say that single men and widowers could not be accepted, nor could families with two children or more under seven  years of age, or in which the sons outnumbered the daughters.  Clearly as a widower with two young sons George fell into all of these banned categories.

The journey over must have been pretty grim.  George was lucky enough to get a free passage from the Australian Government, but of course this still meant he and Ellen were in steerage.  A partitioned space of about 6' by 3' was allowed for a couple, and they were asked to keep to that space.  They rarely went on deck, being largely confined to their cramped quarters.  Portholes, if there were many, tended to be kept closed.  So George and Ellen would have spent about seven weeks in poor light in extremely cramped conditions, shared with goodness knows how many other people.  Many of whom would have been seasick, and no doubt personal hygiene wasn't great either.  Food was basic, and there were daily rules to abide by including when to get up and when it was time for lights out.  You can read more about the type of travelling conditions on this blog.

Despite the inevitable difficulties that must have arisen from being in such close quarters and awful conditions for weeks on end, George and Ellen made their partnership official a month after arriving in Australia, when they married at Oxley in Queensland on August 21.  They settled in Queensland, and George worked as a builder/contractor. 
 
They had five children here, Alice, Arthur, Rose, Arella and James.  Sadly Arthur died in 1899, and Alice died in 1905.  George's elder son George Eber joined him in Queensland, probably around 1897, but James Edward stayed behind in Leicester, where he lived for the rest of his life. 

Interestingly, George's Australian-born descendants never knew of John Edward and didn't realise they had relatives in England.  Until a month or so ago, when my cousin Sam made contact with Wendy, the granddaughter of John Edward's half brother James.  We have all been exchanging emails since then, and it is largely due to these emails that we have been able to put together a much more comprehensive picture of George's life.

To get back to George, he and his family moved to New Zealand in 1905, with George working in Wellington and Westport.  Seven years later, they moved again, to Auckland, where George continued working as a builder/contractor.  He was also a freemason.  George died on July 18 1926 in Grey Lynn, New Zealand, and was buried two days later at Purewa Cemetary, Auckland.

Eber Garner 1825 - 1901

Eber Garner, one of my great x 3 grandfathers on my father's side, lived a long but almost certainly hard life.  Like so many of my ancestors on this side of the family, he was a framework knitter.  This was a difficult job - working the stocking frame took a lot of physical effort.  The frame often needed adjusting, which - quite apart from the fact that that meant an interruption in work flow - also required good eyesight and, I imagine, a steady hand.  The machine produced a flat piece of material which then needed making up into a stocking.  It was often the women in the family - wife and elder daughters - who carried out this job, known as seaming.

A framework knitting machine

The machine took up a lot of space as well, similar to that taken up by an upright piano - taller, but not as wide.  Which in a tiny two-up, two-down (if they were lucky) house, often packed full of children, would have made quite a difference.

In addition, the hosiery industry was very unstable, with framework knitters often having to move from one part of the country to another to find work, or sometimes do something else entirely to avoid going into the workhouse.

This was the case with Eber.  He was born on 20 March 1825 in Thurmaston, Leicester, to John and Mary Garner, and was one of ten children.  He married Mary Ann Robinson - sister of his elder brother's wife - in 1847.  The 1851 census shows them as living in North Thurmaston with Emily, 3, and Eliza, 1.  

By 1861, they had moved to Hucknall in Nottinghamshire.  My extremely knowledgeable friend, Jennifer, from the Thurmaston Heritage Group says many framework knitters left Thurmaston during the 1840s and 1850s following a general downturn in the trade.  Many went to Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire - some even walked there, with their entire families in tow.  These cities worked mostly with cotton or silk, instead of the wool that Leicester tended to focus on.  This is reflected in the 1861 census return, in which Eber is listed as a cotton hose framework knitter.  Mary Ann did the same job, and their two eldest daughters did the seaming work.  There are now two sons in the family, John, 6, and George, 3.

By 1871 Emily had left home, and Mary Ann was listed a housewife, although I suspect she was probably still involved in the framework knitting industry.  Eliza, 21, and John, 16, were both framework knitters, as was their father.  George was 13 and a winder - in other words, he wound the thread from hanks onto the bobbins.  There were two more children, Sarah, 9, and Mark, 5.  

A winding machine

In 1880, son George - my great great grandfather - married Mary Goodwin in London.  The certificate states that at the time Eber was a bag hosier. This was a middleman in the hosiery framework knitting industry who collected materials from the spinner or hosiery factory and passed it on to his workers who made up the goods. He then collected the finished articles from them at the end of the week and took it back to the factory, and of course charged a fee for his work. Sometimes the bag hosier had his own frameshop and charged the workers for the use of the machines as well. It was a very labour intensive industry and the end worker bore the brunt of all the charges.   In Eber's case, he had four framework knitters in his home by 1881 - himself, his wife, John and Mark.  Sarah was a stitcher.  They were all making silk mitts.  No doubt he did all the fetching and carrying of materials and finished items for them - I wonder if he did the same for his neighbours?

I haven't been able to find a census entry for 1891, but from the 1901 entry it seems Eber and his family may well have fallen on hard times again, as Eber is now listed as a retired miner.  He probably had to take whatever work he could get to avoid going to the workhouse.  It must have been terribly hard, taking to the mines at around 60 years of age.

In the 1901 census, he appears to be living with his son John and his daughter-in-law Emily, plus Emily’s five children by her first marriage (she was a widow), and their own son John.  I'm not sure where Mary Ann was, to date I have not been able to find any record of her, although I believe she died in 1904.

Eber died just a couple of months after the census was taken, aged 76.

Busy, busy, busy!

Firstly, apologies for the break in blogging.  I knew I'd be taking a few weeks off because I went on holiday.  But what I didn't know was that something would happen while I was away that would throw my family history research well and truly into the spoltlight, bringing forward a mountain of information to sift through, some new friends, and even new relatives!

The catalyst for this was a devastating fire at a factory in Leicester, which one of my great great grandfathers had built for him in 1911.  The building has not belonged to any of the family for decades, but it still had my great great grandfather's name across the door way, albeit boarded over.  And going to see it was on my to do list. 

But while I was away, it went up in flames, and was so badly damaged that the ruins had to be taken down immediately.  It was a real shame, but I thought that there was an opportunity for a phoenix to arise from the flames, and so I contacted the local newspaper, the Leicester Mercury.

A combination of the fire being a huge story (many were evacuated from their homes) and it being the summer "silly season" meant that the story of mine and my cousin Sam's quest to find out more about that branch of the family made a full page, plus a follow-up story, and several contacted us as a result.One was relatives we didn't know existed - a great grandson of the original factory owner, and we have been exchanging emails, photos and stories with them.

Another was Jennifer Harris from the Thurmaston Heritage Group who, despite being busy, has been enormously helpful.  My great great grandfather lived in Thurmaston for some time, and various other members of our family tree are from there too.  Jennifer has given me so much information on my family tree, cleared up some questions, helped solve a mystery - I suspect that what she doesn't know about Thurmaston isn't worth knowing! 

I've also been in touch with experts in Leicester's footwear history (my great great grandfather was a wholesale boot and shoe manufacturer), a lovely old lady whose father worked as the general manager at the factory, and various other people.

And, on top of all this, my cousin Sam has also made contact with another family member we didn't know of, who lives in Australia.

So - there has been a LOT of information to process, and I am still working my way through it all.  I cannot believe how much more I know about my family than I did just a couple of months ago, it truly is amazing.  And now it is time to start sharing some of their stories with you again.  Watch this space, I'll be back in a day or two :)

Henry Womersley - father of 13, grandfather to dozens!

Henry Womersley 1847 - 1902 

Henry Womersley, circa 1900

I think it's fair to say that Henry Womersley, my gt gt gt uncle, made a pretty good contribution to the population of Yorkshire!  With just one exception, he has the largest family so far in my family tree, and definitely the largest number of children who lived to be adults.  And although I am still researching his descendants - there are a lot of them to research! - it seems he and his wife Eliza would have been grandparents to at least a couple of dozen children.  He also has the distinction of being the earliest relative to leave a will.

Henry was born in 1847 in Kirkburton, Yorkshire, to Ephraim and Ann Womersley, and was baptised at All Hallows Church, Kirkburton, on 3 October.

He was little more than a toddler when the census was taken in 1851, with an older sister Eliza, aged 9, and a younger one, Martha, aged 1.  The family were living in Newmill, home to Newmill brewery where his father Ephraim was working as a labourer.

Ten years on and his father has a more impressive title of brewer's agent, which was probably just as well given that his family had grown much larger!  Eliza seems to have left home, and I'm not sure where Martha was, but Henry is still there, together with Ann, 9; Ellen, 6; Ada, 4; Ephraim Jr, 3; and Sarah (my great great grandmother), aged just 1.  Henry was 13, and has not yet started work - no doubt he would have been starting within the next 12 months.

Six years later, in 1867, Henry married Eliza Stones, daughter of a fellmonger, at All Halllows Church in Kirkburton, and by 1871 the couple were living in Houghton Glass and had two children - George, 2, and Mary, 1.  Henry was working as a sinker in the coal mining business - this is a skilled position that involved excavating new shafts down to the coal seams. 

Twenty years later, Henry is working as a cutler and grinder.  I'm not sure if this is meant to read cutter and grinder, and relate to running cutting machines in the mines, or if he made a switch to the cutlery business.  I suspect the former, as he and his children all have strong links to the mines.  His eldest children have left home, but it is still a very full house - Henry, Eliza, and eight children!  These are Thomas, 18, a miner; Henry, 16, also a miner; Eliza, 14, not listed as doing anything but no doubt helping her mother and quite possibly working from home too; William, 11; Annie, 9; and David, 7, all scholars; plus three-year-old Albert and baby James.  

Believe it or not, there were still more additions to the family by the time the 1901 census rolled around!  In all Henry and Eliza had 13 children, all of whom, with the exception of one son who died in infancy, lived to be adults. By 1901 Henry was 53, and still working down the mines, as a hewer, as was his son Henry, 25 and David, 17.  Eliza was 50.  The other siblings still living at home were Ann, 19; Albert, 14; James, 10; Edward, 9; and Sophia, 6.

Henry died a year later on 15 January 1902, at Featherstone main colliery, Featherstone, Pontefract.  There is no record of any accident there then, so I assume that Henry probably just collapsed and died while at work.  

As well as having one of the largest families to date on my family tree, Henry also has the distinction of being my earliest ancestor, as far as I know, to leave a will - his effects were worth £34 (about £2000 in today's money), and were left to his widow.

52 Ancestors - Hannah Maria Spivey

Hannah Maria Spivey 1827 -  ?

Poor Hannah - she wasn't exactly what you might call lucky.  She never knew her father, she had an illegitimate boy who died young, and at least one of her other children led a troubled life too.

Hannah, my 4 x great aunt, was born to Amos and Sarah Spivey in Kirkburton, Yorkshire, in 1827.  Her father was buried in the village's parish church, All Hallows, exactly one month to the day before she was born.  Every time I come face to face with this fact, I can't help but feel desperately sorry for her mother, Sarah - eight months pregnant, with an eight year old daughter, and no way of supporting them.  She must have been worried sick.

By the time she was 14, Hannah was working in service as a domestic servant for shoemaker James Vouse of Howden in Yorkshire.  This must have been extremely hard work.  There were 12 people in that household, only three of whom were servants - and one of those was 70 years old and presumably the nanny for the four under-five year olds in the house.  It must have been non-stop drudgery from dawn to dusk, and quite possibly beyond.

Eight years later, aged just 22, she gave birth to Henry, an illegitimate son.  (He went on to become a coal miner and died of lung disease aged 23 - click here for his story.

In 1851, aged 24 and two respectively, Hannah and Henry were living back in Kirkburton with Hannha's mother Sarah, and Sarah's second husband John Eastwood.  Hannah doesn't appear to be working, although there is a good chance that like many women she was working from home to supplement the family income.

Hannah evidently married between 1851 and 1861, although I have been unable to find a record of it, as the 1861 census shows her as lodging in the Dives Inn in Huddersfield, with her husband Lochart Muir, a publican (but not the head publican, that was a Thomas W Newson). Little Henry is still in Kirkburton with his grandmother, as are Hannah and Lochart's two young daughters Sarah and Ella.

I get the impression that Hannah's husband was a bit of a rogue, and unable to settle in a job for long, and that the two of them probably had to travel around a fair bit as a result of this.  He'll get his own blog post sooner or later, but I mention it here as it can't have been easy on Hannah, traipsing around after him and not being able to be with her children.

In 1871 Hannah and Lochart are still living in Huddersfield, Lochart is apparently a draper now.  Their two daughters Sarah and Ella are living with them, as is Lochart's elder sister.

Two years later, Hannah's first-born, Henry, died.  He was followed four years later by Hannah's husband. 

Hannah re-married in 1882, to a James Sanderson, back in Kirkburton - and then seems to vanish from the records.  Maybe one day I will find out what happened to her.

52 Ancestors - medals, liquorice and shop-keeping

George Smart - 1887-1964

George Smart is one of my great great uncles, this time by marriage rather than by blood, although that never really matters that much to me. Family is family as much by what they do as how they are related, in my opinion.

Sadly I never knew him, he died ten months before I was born, but having learned more about him, and seen this wonderful photo below, I wish I had.  The photo shows him pushing my Mum, Maureen, and her younger brother, Michael, in a wheelbarrow.  To me, this shows he definitely had a sense of fun.

George was born in Netherton, Worcestershire, to John and Abigail Smart, in 1887.  He and his family had moved to Yorkshire by the 1891 census, presumably going where the work was to be found.  I think George must have been lucky to avoid working in the mines, as his father and both of his elder brothers were miners.

Instead, he began his working life as a shop assistant, and clearly the retail trade suited him well as he was still working in a grocery when he married my Great Great Aunt Elsie in 1911, and by 1916 he was the manager of a Co-operative store.

He joined the army reserve in 1916, and on 27 March 1918 he left England for France, where he was a driver for the Royal Field Artillery for almost a year.  His service records give nothing away about his time in France, but no doubt he saw and experienced plenty of the horrors of war during his relatively short time there.  He was awarded the British War and Victory Medals.

After returning to England, he went back to retail.  My Mum believes that he and Elsie used to run a small general purpose shop.  On his retirement from the shop, he worked in the gardens at the Wilkinsons sweet factory in Pontefract, where they grew liquorice for their Pontefract cakes.  (As a brief aside, Pontefract is one of the few places in the UK where liquorice can successfully be grown, and was renowned as a worldwide centre for liquorice!  Apparently Wilkinsons is now known as Monkhill Confectionary and they continue to preserve a small garden of liquorice plants.)

George, who is pictured here at my Mum and Dad's wedding in 1963, died in Ackton Hospital near Pontefract on 11 March 1964, aged 77.

52 Ancestors - Herbert Ward, WW1 hero

Herbert Matthew Ward 1893 - 1966

It is hard to feel confident when writing about my relatives and their roles in WW1.  Unlike some family historians, I have no letters from the front, or tales passed down through the generations to help guide me.  All I have are the somewhat stark service/pension records.  (I am lucky to have these given how few survived WW2.)

So I shall have to use a little journalistic licence when writing about my gt gt Uncle Herbert, who, as far as I can tell, was a WW1 hero who was lucky to escape the trenches with his life.

Overdramatic?  Maybe a little.  But his records clearly state that he was wounded in action in France in 1915.  He received gunshot wounds to his neck and right side, and they were serious enough for him to be sent back to Blighty just four days later, and to need six months recuperation.  He was awarded the 1914/15 Star, the British War Medal and the Victory Medal - the trio affectionately known as the Pip, Squeak and Wilfred.  Wounded, yet returned to battle, and the receipient of three medals - definitely a hero as far as I'm concerned.

To start at the beginning, Herbert was born in 1893 in Wakefield, the son of Matthew Ward and Sarah Womersley, and the brother of my gt grandmother Clara.

He joined the Kings' Own Yorkshire Light Infantry, a Territorial Force, when he was just 17, starting as a private and working his way up to sergeant.  This battalion was part of the 49th (West Riding) Division.  Apparently the units of this Division had just departed for annual summer camp in 1914 when emergency orders recalled them to home base.  All units were mobilised for full war time service on August 5 1914.  On 31 March 1915 the division was warned it would go on overseas service, and on 13th April Herbert embarked from Folkestone, headed for Boulogne.

Influenza must have done a round of the trenches in 1915, as in July Herbert spent two weeks in hospital with it.  Just 13 days after returning to the field, on August 7, Herbert was wounded in action.  He was sent back to England four days later.

Maybe his brush with death made him more appreciative of his loved ones, for three months later, on November 3, he married Nellie Green at the parish church of Darton.

Herbert returned to the trenches in February 1916, but only for two months. In April his five years with the army had come to an end, and so he was able to leave and return to his job as an electrician.

I don't know much about his life after this.  I know he had a daughter named Dorothy and a son named Geoffrey, and I also know that he was at my Mum and Dad's wedding.  A photo of Mum and Dad, surrounded by relatives, is the origin of this photo of Uncle Herbert, smiling as he peeks out from behind Mum's voluminous veil.  It's lovely to think that he will be remembered for his heroism and that happy smile.

52 Ancestors - It's never too late

Ada Womersley 1856-1943

I can't help but admire the pioneering spirit of my 3 x great aunt Ada Womersley.  At the age of 50, after living in pretty much the same place in Yorkshire, she took the courageous step of emigrating to Canada.

Just the start of her adventure must have been a hardship.  Saving for three tickets (for herself, her husband Richard and her son Alfred) from a meagre income.  Trying to decide what to take with them and what to leave behind, bearing in mind the tiny amount of baggage they would have been allowed.  Travelling on a noisy steam train, presumably for the first time, to Liverpool.  And worst of all, saying goodbye to the rest of her family, thinking she may never see them again.

Then there was the journey itself, aboard the SS Tunisian (pictured). Nine days stuck in dreadful conditions below decks.  An unimaginable smell of hundreds of unwashed people, many of whom were suffering from sea sickness.  The over-crowding, the enforced medical examinations and vaccinations, and almost certainly some questionable behaviour from travellers.  

"To me the most noticeable thing about the life was the ease with which the yoke of civilization was thrown off,"  says a first-hand report from a similar journey eight years earlier.   "If conditions be favorable, I opine that a large proportion of the steerage passengers throw back to their Darwinian ancestry about the third day out. Away from home, country, and religious influences, unrestrained by custom and conventionality, bound by no laws of action, and separated from all that force of opinion so strong in the world ashore, they let themselves go, and allow their baser natures to run riot. 

"No sooner has the seasickness left them than they growl and snarl over their food like dogs, scrambling for the choice pieces, and running off to their bunks with them; they grow quarrelsome; their talk is lewd and insulting; brute strength is in the ascendant; and, without shame, both sexes show the animal side of their natures. But most apparent and obnoxious are the filthy habits into which many of them fall."  *

It is worth pointing out that this account came from a single man who would have been staying in the single men's quarters; and that my 3 x great aunt would have been in the married quarters and hopefully older and wiser than a good many of the passengers! Even so, you can imagine people getting irritable and quarrelsome, and doing their utmost to get the best bits of food.

On her arrival at Quebec, there would have been more medical inspections, and potentially quarantine, before Ada, Richard and Alfred were able to travel to Winnipeg, where they then had to start another hard process - building new lives for themselves.

At least this was made a little easier by one thing.  I found out, after wondering what on earth would make Ada choose to emigrate to Canada at her age, that her eldest son John and his family had emigrated there two years earlier.  I'm guessing they must have written home to say just how much they loved it there!

Sadly, Ada's husband Richard didn't get long to enjoy his new life, he died just two years later.  Ada, however, was joined in Canada by all her children, and when she died in 1943, aged 86, had 14 grandchildren and eight great grandchildren. There is no doubt she took a gamble when she left her home in Huddersfield, but it seems that it definitely paid off.

NB - for anyone trying to to keep track of which ancestor is related to which, Ada Womersley is the sister of Sarah Womersley, who was featured in last week's post.

* Steerage Conditions in 1898 - A First-Hand Account:   http://www.gjenvick.com/Steerage/1898-SteerageConditions-APersonalExperience.html#sthash.68JqiAoU.dpbs#ixzz35TGR6yki

52 Ancestors - the woman responsible for my genealogical obsession!

Sarah Womersley 1860 - 1942

Although I never met her, my great great grandmother Sarah Womersley is the one who is to blame for my obsession with family history.  I was given a photograph of her several years ago, so that I could include it in my scrapbooks.  But I didn't feel able to do a scrapbook layout about her without knowing something about her as well - and so the journey along my family tree began.

 Here is the photo, showing Sarah in what I assume is her backyard in Wakefield, Yorkshire.  Note the trellis and the flowers - it looks as if either Sarah or her husband enjoyed a little bit of gardening in their spare time.

Sarah, like so many of my ancestors in this particular branch of the family, was born in Kirkburton, which is about five miles south of Huddersfield.   The daughter of Ephraim and Ann Womersley, she was born on 28th March 1860, and was baptised on 28th December 1862 at All Hallows in Kirkburton.  You may remember her father from a previous blog post - he was the one who escaped death a couple of times.

The 1861 census shows Sarah’s family living at 3 New Mill, Fulstone.  She was the youngest of six.  Her siblings were Henry, Ann jr, Ellen, Ada and Ephraim Jr.

Ten years on the family had moved to 121 Bay Hale Lane, Huddersfield.  Henry had already left home.  Ann and Ellen were both working, and Ephraim Jr and Sarah were both at school.

In 1881 Sarah seems to have been the only one still living with her father.  Her mother had died, and Ephraim had re-married.  They were living in Brighouse, and Sarah was a dressmaker.

Four years later, on 13th August, Sarah married Matthew Ward, a groom, at the Holy Trinity church in Wakefield.  By 1891 they were living at 174 Mount Pleasant, Wakefield.  Matthew, aged 30, a was now a warehouseman for a chemist, and they had a daughter, Elsie.  Ten years on, the family was living at 39 John Street, Wakefield.  Matthew, 40, was now a maltster. Elsie was already at work, aged 14, as a woollen weaver.  The family had been joined by son Herbert M, 7, and daughter Clara, 5.

In 1911, they were still in John Street, Primrose Hill, Wakefield, but at number 17.  Matthew, 50, was a maltster's labourer.  Elsie, 24, was a worsted drawer, Herbert, 17, was an armature winder (probably also in the wool business), and Clara, 15, was a worsted spinner.  Also living with them was nephew Willie Sykes, 32, single, and a self-employed piano tuner and repairer.

As is so often the case, little is known about Sarah after 1911.  Family recollections tell of her being a demanding tyrant in her old age, although I suspect this may be partly, if not largely, due to the senility mentioned on her death certificate.  She used to live back to back to her daughter Clara, and would bang on the shared wall to summon her.  Each time poor Clara would have to go out of her house, down the road, round the side of the terrace, and back up the road to see what Sarah wanted.

Sarah died on 20th Sept 1942 at 61 Flanshaw Crescent, Wakefield.  The doctor gave causes of death as being cardiac failure, myocardial degeneration, senility and obesity.  She was buried two days later at Saint Paul's Church, Alverthorpe, Wakefield.

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52 Ancestors - Tragedy and Scandal

Ella Muir/Hadfield/Israel/Fleming  1854-1939

 Poor Ella - you can understand her looking unhappy in her photo, she certainly had a hard life, filled with tragedy and scandal.  She was certainly no stranger to bereavement - she lost 11 of her 16 children before she was 45.  But perhaps the worst thing to happen to her was to be accused of killing at least one of those children for a few pounds of insurance money.

In January 1891 Ella's seventh child John Harold Hadfield died aged one year and eight months after a short illness.  But despite Ella doing exactly what most mother's would do - take care of their child and get them checked by a doctor - rumours started spreading that she had deliberately neglected him so she could claim the insurance money.  

A report in the Huddersfield Chronicle says that the coroner "received a report from the police saying that a great many children had died, and that they were all insured - six had died under the age of three years - and it was therefore thought desirable to have an inquest.  (The police) knew that a great deal had been said on the subject of infant insurance and a good many cases had arisen where there had been reason to suspect that children had been insured and had died either from neglect, or worse, in order to get the insurance money."

The coroner made it clear, however, that this was not the case in this instance.  A post mortem carried out on the child showed without doubt that he died from bronchitis, accelerated by convulsions.  The coroner also pointed out that the police were wrong in saying six of Ella's children had previously died, she had in fact buried three before John Harold.

The insurance money, by the way, was just £6 - about £360 in today's money.  

This hearing wasn't the first time Ella had had to go to court.  At one point, just after her first marriage, she was pleaded guilty to assault - she attacked another girl, grabbing her haid, tearing her bonnet and slapping her in the face.  Ella said the girl had lied during a bastardy case against Ella's father.  She also had to give evidence when one of her lodgers committed suicide by drowning herself in a local canal.

And now for the more basic details of Ella's life for those who are interested.  She was born in 1854 in Kirkburton, but spent much of her life in Huddersfield.  Aged 19, she married James Hadfield at Huddersfield Parish Church, and they went on to have a number of children.  

In the 1911 census, Ella is listed as having had 16 children, with 11 of them having died.  Maybe this is why she is no longer with her husband James.  He is still alive, and living with his daughter Florence.  But Ella is living elsewhere with two of her daughters and three boarders - including her husband-to-be Michael Thomas Israel, a 44 year old widower and brickworks labourer. 

James Hadfield died in June 1916, and just three months later Ella married Michael T Israel.  He died in 1924, and a year later Ella married Robert Fleming.

Ella, who is my first cousin four times removed on my mother's side of the family, died in September 1939, aged 74, in Huddersfield.

52 Ancestors - Sleepy sickness, the forgotten epidemic

Gertrude Gwendolen Alice Garner 1910 - 1944

After World War 1, many people fell victim to a viral epidemic which killed over a million people, and affected many more.  Yet this illness has been overshadowed, understandably, by the 1918 flu pandemic, and consequently has been largely forgotten.

Encelphalitis lethargica, also known as sleepy sickness, cases began appearing as early as 1916, and reached its peak in the 1920s.  It claimed about half of its victims in its first stages, but many survivors ended up developing neurological problems later in life that would either lead to death or lock them in a coma for years on end.

My Great Aunt Gwen was one of those who fell prey to this terrible disease.  I have no idea when she contracted it or how it affected her.  Apparently she was prone to having "problems with her nerves", but then that was a common excuse for all sorts of ailments back then.  Her marriage to William (Bill) Neale didn't seem to last long, and I can't help but wonder if the illness was to blame. Not necessarily the final stage of it - as far as I know she left him before that began - but the middle period between the apparent recovery and the relapse.  This phase could be marked by a general loss of concentration and interest in life, which can't have been good for their relationship.

However this stage was usually the calm before the storm.  Many suffers, including Gwen, went on to develop post-encephalitic parkinsonism.  Symptoms could include a decrease in facial expressions, loss of control of movement, tremors, confusion and memory loss and there could be severe psychiatric changes.  Some victims lapsed into a catatonic state, and remained in a coma for years.

Gwen, my Dad's aunt, died in Leicester's mental hospital aged just 33.  I'd like to think that she and her family didn't suffer too much, but sadly I suspect that may not have been the case.  It was a dreadful disease, and a dreadful place to die.

*  Cases of encephalitis lethargica still arise, but fortunately are now very rare.  Scientists now believe it may be linked to a form of streptococcus bacteria, which commonly causes sore throats, or perhaps to flu viruses, but nothing appears to be conclusive and I suspect there will be a question mark over the real cause for some time to come. 

52 Ancestors - Brief Glimpses of Glamour

Betsey Silvester 1835 - 1913

Betsey was one of those women who seem destined to only ever get a glimpse of, rather than live, a glamorous lifestyle.  She was born in the uber-fashionable spa town of Cheltenham, lived in Regent's Park in London, and her son became a wealthy and respected businessman.  Yet she was only a spectator to the good life, and in fact spent most of her life eeking out the pennies in tiny terrace houses in Leicester.

Betsey is the first one of my ancestors on my father's side to be featured on my blog - she is my third great grandmother.

She was born in Cheltenham in 1835 to Thomas and Martha Silvester.  I am not sure how she came to be born there, as there doesn't seem (as yet) to be any previous familial link with Cheltenham. The Spa town was in its heyday back then, yet she and her family upped sticks and went to live in Leicester.  Coincidentally, I was born and brought up in Leicester, and now live in Cheltenham.

In 1841, aged six, she was living in Peggs Yard, St Margaret, Leicester with her father Thomas, then aged 50 and a basket maker; mother Martha, 43; and her siblings Martha, 14; Jane, 11; and Ann, 4. 

By 1851 Betsey was living in Regent's Park, working as an undermaid for well-known Victorian painter William Powell Frith.  To Betsey, her employers must have seemed to have lived an impossibly glamorous lifestyle.  Indeed, in the year that this census was carried out William Powell Frith completed his seaside painting Ramsgate Sands (Life at the Seaside), inspired by a trip taken by he and his family.  Apparently he was unsure about it, but Queen Victoria clearly liked it, as she bought it for 1000 guineas.

Two years later Betsey returned to Leicester, and married Robert Hunt, a stocking maker, at St Margaret's Church in Leicester, and in 1861 the couple were living in Vauxhall Street, All Saints, Leicester, with their four-year-old son Thomas George.

The 1871 census shows the family as living in Birstall Street, St Margaret's, Leicester.  By now Thomas is aged 14, and working as a shoe finisher.  Little did they know at the time that Thomas would end up owning several shoe factories in Leicester - but that's a story for another day.  Robert and Betsey also had a daughter now, Martha, aged 7.  Also staying with them, no doubt to boost the household income, was lodger Richard Rowley, aged 16 and also a shoe finisher.

Ten years on, and Robert is still working as a framework knitter.  Betsey is now working as a seamstress, and Martha, aged 16, is a boot machinist. They have another son, Robert, aged 9, and are living in Shenton Street.   Thomas has left home and is married with his own children.

Life for Betsey seems to have carried on pretty much in the same vein for the next ten years - more changes of address - they are in Hart Road in 1891, daughter Martha has moved into the hosiery trade, and son Robert has now joined the shoe trade, working as a clicker, which means he made eyelet holes or uppers in boots using a machine that clicked.  Meanwhile son Thomas is starting to make his name as a boot and shoe manufacturer. 

By 1901, Betsey is 66 and Robert is 70, but still doing the strenuous job of framework knitting.  Thomas was doing very well for himself by now, and living in a rather grand home called The Elms. However I think he must have cut his ties with his parents (or vice versa), otherwise why wouldn't he have helped them out and saved his poor old Dad from having to work so hard at such an age?  But I suppose the work can't have done Robert too much harm, as in 1911, aged 80, he was still making stockings on his framework knitter.

Betsey died aged 78 on 13th February 1913.  Her husband Robert died just over a year later, aged 83, on 16th June 1914.

52 Ancestors - Ferryman John Brook

John Brook 1821-1899

Geneology is a funny old thing.  You never know where a nugget of information is going to appear, that little extra something that brings your ancestor to life, as it were, suddenly giving you a much clearer picture of how life was for them.

And so it was with John Brook, who was the husband of my fifth great aunt Ann Swift.  He and his family lived in Mirfield (as so many of that branch of the family did!), and he, his father Joseph and his brother Thomas all worked as watermen.

This intrigued me - I wanted to know what exactly they did.  After various fruitless searches on Google, I hit the jackpot - a mention not just of what water-based jobs there were in Mirfield at the time, but a small piece actually featuring John Brook!

Taken from Pobjoy's History of Mirfield (now out of print, but available for download), it reads:  “John Brooke was a barge man who usually plied between Brighouse and Goole, with flour on the outward journey, and grain on the return. This meant Mr and Mrs Brooke living on board sometimes for weeks on end, their children at their Low Littlemoor house being looked after by their elder daughter Ada.

"Later John became a ferryman at Battyeford, before the Ha-penny Bridge was erected there, plying across the river in a small boat holding from four to six. Motive power? An endless rope worked by hand on pulleys. On the completion of the bridge John became the keeper of Battye Lock, sleeping in a little brick cabin, at home only at week-ends."

The piece, and various websites which quote it, also include this photo.  Sadly it is not captioned, but it seems likely that the ferryman pictured is John Brook.

I am so pleased to have found this.  It tells me so much more about my fifth great aunt and her family.  I can imagine her and her husband travelling up and down the canals.  No doubt it was hard work - I have heard stories of bargemen's wives pulling the boat along in some place, harnessed up like a horse.  It would certainly have often been cold, wet and miserable too.  But I like to think there were also days like today, where the sun was shining and they got the opportunity to admire the scenery and the wildflowers blossoming along the canal banks.

I'm not sure how Ada could have looked after the children as she was, according to the censuses of the time, the youngest but one.  However this reminiscence came from her brother George, so maybe despite her young years she still took on the role of mother when her parents were away.

And I think that being keeper of the lock must have been quite a nice job to do in your later years.  Still hard work, but perhaps John Brook had the chance to sit outside his little brick cabin, pipe in hand, reflecting on his life on the water.  Yes, a bit of shameless romanticism, but nice to indulge in inbetween the tragic stories that we so often come across.

Anyone else interested in Mirfield's history can view and download A History of Mirfield by H N Pobjoy here:  https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B9sDypJpJzRCZUlHbE05enQzdFE/edit.  There are also several websites, and a Facebook page, devoted to the town's past.

 

52 ancestors - the life and death of a young miner.

Henry Spivey 1849-1873

Poor Henry never really had much of a chance of a good life.  Born illegitimate, he was already working in the mines by the time he was 11 years old, and just 12 years later succumbed to disease brought on by the lethal coal dust.

Henry was born to spinster Hannah Maria Spivey in 1849, when illegitimate children and their mothers were ostracised.  Employers wanted nothing to do with the mothers of illegitimate children, in the workhouse such women were kept separate from others to avoid contaminating them, and even illegitimate orphans were turned away from orphanges for fear their base start in life would somehow have an adverse affect on the legitimate orphans.  As if that were not enough, he was born too late to benefit from previous bastardy laws which would at least have entitled him to some charity from his parish.

Fortunately, Hannah's mother and step-father Sarah and John Eastwood seem to have been the forgiving type, for they took Henry in, and cared for him while his mother went on to build a new life as a wife and mother to five legitimate children.

By the age of 11, Henry was working in one of the 30 or so coal mines in the Kirkburton area of West Yorkshire.   At that age he was likely to have been a hurrier, responsible for pushing or pulling corves (trucks) full of coal to the pit bottom.  This was a tough and demanding job.  The corves could weigh between two and five hundredweight, and in some places the gates (underground railways) were only around two feet high.  Physical punishment was common, and the working environment was dangerous and unhealthy.

A young hurrier pulling a corve full of coal.

At 21 Henry was still living with his step-grandfather (his grandmother died in 1866), and still working down the mines.  I imagine that by this time he had worked his way through the various mining ranks, and was quite possibly a hewer, slogging away at the coalface to fill those same corves he had pulled as a younger lad.

But life down the mines took its toll on Henry, and he died aged just 23 from phthisis.  This was either miners' phthisis, which is now known as silicosis; or perhaps tuberculosis - those working down the mines were more susceptible to this disease.  Either way, it seems a tragic waste of a young life. 

52 Ancestors - Mumps and marriage!

Just a short story this time, one of many that I am lucky enough to be able to tell about my maternal grandparents Geoff and Elsie Doughty.

Looking back at his memoirs, it seems that wartime heralded the start of a new life for my Grandad.  He hadn't had a good childhood - he was the youngest but one of nine children, there was often no money, there were even days where he couldn't go to school because his clothes had been taken to the pawn shop so his mother could feed the family. 

In 1941, aged 20, he joined the RAF.  It wasn't an easy process - a congenital heart defect meant he was passed around several doctors and in the end he was given the option - he could join up, but would have to stay in the UK, or he could go back to civvy street.

Having been a member of the St John Ambulance Brigade for several years, he asked to join the medical side of the RAF, and was accepted.  

 As soon as he joined up, he changed his name from Percy to Geoffrey - he felt his childhood name was just a reminder of what was, in his words, a "miserable childhood".

After training, and passing as a nurses orderly, he was posted to 16.M.U. (Maintenance Unit ) which  supplied parts for the Air Force.The total of personnel on six sites was about 4,000 mixed Airmen and W.A.A.F.’S.  He had to report to the Small Station Sick quarters which dealt purely with illnesses such as flu - and mumps.

My grandmother, Elsie, was in the WRAF and although she had already had mumps twice she managed to get it a third time.  Third time lucky though, as - you guessed it - she was taken to the small station sick quarters where my Grandad was serving.  She was in quarantine, and bored stupid, and my Grandad used to pull faces at her through the ward windows to cheer her up.  (Note - he was always good at pulling faces, I can remember him doing that to me as a child!).

Once she recovered, he got the courage together to ask her out - and after just six months they were married, in Elsie's home town of Wakefield.  As you can see from the photo, rations meant my Grandmother was unable to get a full weding dress, but my Grandad did manage to get a pin-striped suit.  Their reception was also fairly typical of wartime weddings, a small affair held at Elsie's parents' home.

Thirteen months later, my Mum was born - but that is another story for another day.

Geoffrey (Percy) Doughty 1921 - 2011
Elsie Doughty (nee Bottomley) 1920 - 1986

 

52 Ancestors - Ephraim Womersley and his brushes with the Grim Reaper

As someone who is fairly new to this genealogy lark, I'm still finding my way around how to flesh out the story behind a few dates and census entries.  But I am getting the distinct impression that my 3 x great grandfather Ephraim Womersley was a bit of a character. 

For this is a man who diced with death not just once but twice, and who, after a fight outside his house, sued a man - and quite possibly the wrong man! - for breaking his ankle.  There are some who said he was drunk at the time - surely not....

None of this really shows through his "normal" record.  The various censuses show him as starting his working life as a weaver before finding what seems to have been his niche in the brewery industry.  He worked his way up from labourer at a brewery to a brewers' agent, and then brewer, and it seems he ran at least a couple of pubs or inns along the way as well.  I must admit to being somewhat puzzled by his apparent move to tea dealing for a while before going back to brewing - maybe he thought it would be more lucrative?


Ephraim was born in Kirkburton, Yorkshire, in 1821, married Ann (nee Spivey) in 1840, and had two sons Henry and Ephraim, and five daughters - Martha, Ann, Ellen, Ada, and my great great grandmother Sarah.

It seems that at one point he ran the Bull's Head at Fulstone, and perhaps another in Bay Hall, Huddersfield. He almost certainly worked at New Mill Brewery - the brewery gate, through which I expect Ephraim passed many, many times, is pictured below.

It was the records from the Huddersfield Chronicle that helped give me an insight into the man behind the facts.  in 1856, the paper reported his first brush with death. I love the language used in newspapers back then, so different from journalism today:

"Accident - Yesterday week a sad occurence befell a man in the employ of Messrs Bentley and Shaw, brewers, of New Mill, called Ephraim Womersley, innkeeper.  The poor fellow was driving a horse and cart from the brewery and had got to Lydgate, when the animal became restive and ungovernable; and in the attempt to master the unruly horse, the driver got sadly crushed in the chest, having been forced between a wall and the wheel of the cart.  He was conveyed home and medical aid procured, doubts being entertained of his life.  We are glad to say he is now progressing toward recovery."

Fourteen years later in September 1870 he was travelling in a gig which "came violently into collision" with a cart. He and his fellow traveller were "precipitated over the back of the vehicle to the ground".  While his friend escaped pretty much unhurt, Ephraim was "removed to the inn in a state of unconciousness, and it is feared he is suffering from concussion of the brain, and is in a dangerous state."  Since he lived for another 23 years, I think it's fair to say he probably recovered from his concussion.

As for that fight - well, that really is a twisted tale.  The short version is that clearly Ephraim and his wife Ann got into a bit of a scuffle outside their house in Bay Hall, Huddersfield.  This was because someone had either kicked their dog for no reason, or the dog - a "large bull and retriever" had tried to bite someone and got kicked in self-defence.  In defending the dog the wife was kicked, in defending the wife the husband was kicked!  The kick broke Ephraim's ankle - which the report notes was only covered by a stocking - and he was out of action for eight weeks.

I say "someone" kicked the dog because the person originally taken to court for this swore it was someone else, and the case was re-opened. Ephraim still won the case but the report was unclear as to which defendant the judge decided was to blame.  Ephraim's compensation was £12, about £550 in today's money.

Despite his various brushes with death and injury, Ephraim outlived both of his wives and died in October 1893, aged 70.