My granddad Archie never spoke to me about his family - although I did hear that he used to think his grandmother was French.
Only after years of research did I discover that Archie shared a home with his grandmother - Helen - until she died in 1939 when he was 19 years old. She went by the name of Helen Miller and was a nurse; however, she had once been married to and had a child by a man called Arnoldo Scossa.
He wasn't French - we believe he was Swiss, probably Italian Swiss.
If you've read previous posts you'll know that this chap deserted his wife and new baby in the mid 1880s for a new life in New South Wales, where he died alone some twenty years later. Helen described herself as a widow in census returns: either because she genuinely thought she was a widow, or to try and appear 'respectable'. She never remarried but did have my great grandmother, Jeanie, by a John McCaul.
Having coffee with an Italian pal today, our conversation turned to family trees and I mentioned the surname of that errant Italian (father of my great grandmother's brother Archimedes, after whom Archie was named....) and she laughed.
Apparently, Scossa means 'shock'. As in the sort of static electricity shock you get from someone who is wearing too much polyester! So, Helen Miller - you really were married to a shocking Italian!
Thursday, 1 November 2012
Monday, 1 October 2012
Always keep your eyes open!
I first visited Weston Longville in Norfolk in 1987. I was there again last weekend (for what must be 50th time!) to see the parish so familiar to generations of my ancestors - and enjoy a delicious Sunday lunch at the recently renovated Parson Woodforde pub.
Pootling about the churchyard in the late September sunshine, I spotted a grave bearing the name Mary Dunning (left). Yes, my great x 7 grandmother. She'd been there all the time, obviously, as she died in 1773 . . but despite countless hours looking at each stone over the years, I'd never managed to decipher the name.
She lies right opposite the porch door: her husband, Henry Duning, and son David (along with his young wife, Mary) all died in 1738 and are commemorated on a wall tablet right by the doorway of the porch (right) .The tablet says that Henry lies near that spot - perhaps in the same plot as Mary, his wife who outlived him by 35 years.
Moral of the story? Always keep your eyes open and don't be afraid to search, search and search again even when you think you'll found out everything there is to know!
She lies right opposite the porch door: her husband, Henry Duning, and son David (along with his young wife, Mary) all died in 1738 and are commemorated on a wall tablet right by the doorway of the porch (right) .The tablet says that Henry lies near that spot - perhaps in the same plot as Mary, his wife who outlived him by 35 years.
Moral of the story? Always keep your eyes open and don't be afraid to search, search and search again even when you think you'll found out everything there is to know!
Sunday, 5 August 2012
Finally cracked it?
When I started looking into my family tree in 1986, I didn't even know where my grandfather Bates was born. Today I may have nailed it and found a link on my paternal side right back to the 1550s.
I've yet to check evidence such as Wills, Terriers etc but the Registers of Felthorpe, Swannington and Elsing in Norfolk (at FREEReg and FamilySearch websites) suggest that I can now trace my direct male line back to Thomas Betts and Katherine Candell who married in 1572 (at Elsing).
The line would be:
Thomas Betts & Katherine Candell; Thomas Betts & Cecilie; Thomas Betts & Ann; Joseph Bates & Mary Parker; Joseph Bates & Hannah Miller; John Bates & Mary Dunnell; Thomas Bates & Mary Buck; William Bates & Mary Gray; William Bates & Ann Sayer; John Bates & Mabel Hill - then my grandfather, father and me!
Time to visit Norfolk Records Office methinks!
I've yet to check evidence such as Wills, Terriers etc but the Registers of Felthorpe, Swannington and Elsing in Norfolk (at FREEReg and FamilySearch websites) suggest that I can now trace my direct male line back to Thomas Betts and Katherine Candell who married in 1572 (at Elsing).
The line would be:
Thomas Betts & Katherine Candell; Thomas Betts & Cecilie; Thomas Betts & Ann; Joseph Bates & Mary Parker; Joseph Bates & Hannah Miller; John Bates & Mary Dunnell; Thomas Bates & Mary Buck; William Bates & Mary Gray; William Bates & Ann Sayer; John Bates & Mabel Hill - then my grandfather, father and me!
Time to visit Norfolk Records Office methinks!
Monday, 9 April 2012
Seventy years ago Archie was at Sea
As the media whips itself into a (I believe, distasteful) frenzy about all-things Titanic related, I spare a thought for my granddad Archie Miller who endured the violent attack and forced abandonment of his own ship, Willesden, in the middle of the South Atlantic on 1 April 1942.
Aged only 21 at the time, Archie grew up in the slums of Glasgow and had been a baker and a boxer before signing up and becoming a Gunner in the Army, eventually deployed on Merchant Navy vessel Willesden.
Sailors get to see the world, and in the course of his military service Archie spent time in South America. Once aboard Willesden he saw New York and sailed to St Thomas in the Caribbean before heading across the Atlantic to Cape Town en route to north Africa.
His brother in England received a telegram to say that Archie was dead. His Post Office savings were transferred to his brother. Later, word came from Japan that he was alive.
I recently found this report by A Joyce that details what happened to my granddad's ship and his shipmates. They were attached from the air, sunk, captured by the Germans and then transported to Japan to be transferred into Japanese prisoner of war camps. He was liberated at Kawasaki Camp on 29 August 1945 and returned to Great Britain on the Empress of Australia, apparently via Singapore.
A Joyce's article is on the website of the charity called Children of Far East Prisoners of War: www.cofepow.org.uk/pages/armedforces_ms_willesden.htm
This story by David Wilson gives a little more detail about what happened to the prisoners after their arrival in Japan. My granddad never spoke to me about the War; on the very, very rare occasions when he spoke with my father about it (maybe just once) he declared no bitterness towards the Japanese people. Read about conditions at Kawasaki Camp 1 here - includes photo of the site as well as of Willesden: www.war-experience.org/collections/sea/alliedbrit/wilson/default.asp
Aged only 21 at the time, Archie grew up in the slums of Glasgow and had been a baker and a boxer before signing up and becoming a Gunner in the Army, eventually deployed on Merchant Navy vessel Willesden.
Sailors get to see the world, and in the course of his military service Archie spent time in South America. Once aboard Willesden he saw New York and sailed to St Thomas in the Caribbean before heading across the Atlantic to Cape Town en route to north Africa.
His brother in England received a telegram to say that Archie was dead. His Post Office savings were transferred to his brother. Later, word came from Japan that he was alive.
I recently found this report by A Joyce that details what happened to my granddad's ship and his shipmates. They were attached from the air, sunk, captured by the Germans and then transported to Japan to be transferred into Japanese prisoner of war camps. He was liberated at Kawasaki Camp on 29 August 1945 and returned to Great Britain on the Empress of Australia, apparently via Singapore.
A Joyce's article is on the website of the charity called Children of Far East Prisoners of War: www.cofepow.org.uk/pages/armedforces_ms_willesden.htm
This story by David Wilson gives a little more detail about what happened to the prisoners after their arrival in Japan. My granddad never spoke to me about the War; on the very, very rare occasions when he spoke with my father about it (maybe just once) he declared no bitterness towards the Japanese people. Read about conditions at Kawasaki Camp 1 here - includes photo of the site as well as of Willesden: www.war-experience.org/collections/sea/alliedbrit/wilson/default.asp
Saturday, 24 March 2012
Ninety years on
Family history is about so much more than long-dead ancestors. It is about our immediate family, our loved ones.
My grandma Rosie celebrated her 90th birthday yesterday. In fine form, she had a merry time and made us all laugh with her gleeful antics. "I'm ninety years old, I can do what I like!" she announced - and promptly knocked back a fourth schooner of sherry.
The world she was born into in 1922 is so different to our own. Born at home, just four years after the end of the Great War; a decade after the Titanic disaster; with George V reigning over a global Empire; and Lloyd George as Prime Minster. Home was a back-to-back terrace in the very centre of heavily-industrialised Bolton, a town packed with cotton mills and iron foundaries that belched out smoke and provided employment for thousands.
She was her mother's first child - her father had a teenage son by his first wife who was living with his own maternal grandparents - and was followed by a sister, Nora 22 months later. There were plenty of local aunts and uncles on both sides and numerous cousins but no grandparents. Sadly, with the death of her mother in 1925, my grandma lost all contact with her maternal family and when a new stepmother came along in 1926 most of her paternal family were distanced.
Yesterday was all about celebrating her ninety years. With her daughter, grandson, son-in-law, former son-in-law and brother-in-law, she enjoyed drinks, food, a cake, flowers, presents and laughter. Friends (mostly in their late 60s and early 70s) joined in, as did her neighbours from the sheltered housing she lives in.
There were, of course, plenty of people whose absence was felt, not least my granddad Archie to whom grandma was devoted and who died in 1986. Grandma's two surviving sisters weren't able to come (due to distance or ill health) and her late brothers were missed. My gift to her was a Memory Book created online and published to a satisfyingly high standard, filled with carefully selected, cherished photographs from her lifetime: all those absent featured in the book - and were with us in spirit.
Yesterday is a memory I will cherish for my lifetime - and family history in the making.
And here is grandma Rosie at 90 with her Memory Book.
My grandma Rosie celebrated her 90th birthday yesterday. In fine form, she had a merry time and made us all laugh with her gleeful antics. "I'm ninety years old, I can do what I like!" she announced - and promptly knocked back a fourth schooner of sherry.
The world she was born into in 1922 is so different to our own. Born at home, just four years after the end of the Great War; a decade after the Titanic disaster; with George V reigning over a global Empire; and Lloyd George as Prime Minster. Home was a back-to-back terrace in the very centre of heavily-industrialised Bolton, a town packed with cotton mills and iron foundaries that belched out smoke and provided employment for thousands.
She was her mother's first child - her father had a teenage son by his first wife who was living with his own maternal grandparents - and was followed by a sister, Nora 22 months later. There were plenty of local aunts and uncles on both sides and numerous cousins but no grandparents. Sadly, with the death of her mother in 1925, my grandma lost all contact with her maternal family and when a new stepmother came along in 1926 most of her paternal family were distanced.
Yesterday was all about celebrating her ninety years. With her daughter, grandson, son-in-law, former son-in-law and brother-in-law, she enjoyed drinks, food, a cake, flowers, presents and laughter. Friends (mostly in their late 60s and early 70s) joined in, as did her neighbours from the sheltered housing she lives in.
There were, of course, plenty of people whose absence was felt, not least my granddad Archie to whom grandma was devoted and who died in 1986. Grandma's two surviving sisters weren't able to come (due to distance or ill health) and her late brothers were missed. My gift to her was a Memory Book created online and published to a satisfyingly high standard, filled with carefully selected, cherished photographs from her lifetime: all those absent featured in the book - and were with us in spirit.
Yesterday is a memory I will cherish for my lifetime - and family history in the making.
And here is grandma Rosie at 90 with her Memory Book.
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Genealogy - what a load of pants!
What a load of pants! Well, trousers actually. And probably quite nice ones, for work. Once again, the British Newspaper Archives reveals more than you'd ever find from church or other records. Literally, that my ancestor William Bates (great x2 grandfather) had problems with getting his pants.
On August 18 1866 the Norfolk News carried a headline that read 'Delays are Dangerous'. The story concerned William Bates, a groom at Morton Hall, who in February 1866 placed an order worth £2 2s with local tailor Robert Spooner of neighbouring Great Witchingham. Spooner apparently promised to get Bates his pants made pronto but failed to deliver them until 11 May. Understandably, by then Bates had made other arrangements, and refused to pay Spooner a penny. Not happy, Spooner took the matter to Court in Aylsham but Bates prevailed with support from two witnesses (William Rushbrooke, a fellow servant from Morton Hall) and Frederick Hubbard.
So, Bates got his pants and won the case. Bravo Bates!
On August 18 1866 the Norfolk News carried a headline that read 'Delays are Dangerous'. The story concerned William Bates, a groom at Morton Hall, who in February 1866 placed an order worth £2 2s with local tailor Robert Spooner of neighbouring Great Witchingham. Spooner apparently promised to get Bates his pants made pronto but failed to deliver them until 11 May. Understandably, by then Bates had made other arrangements, and refused to pay Spooner a penny. Not happy, Spooner took the matter to Court in Aylsham but Bates prevailed with support from two witnesses (William Rushbrooke, a fellow servant from Morton Hall) and Frederick Hubbard.
So, Bates got his pants and won the case. Bravo Bates!
Sunday, 26 February 2012
The Walkers - and there's more!
Yesterday, I went to Who Do You Think You Are? Live at London Olympia, described as the world's largest family history fair. While the fee-charging websites boast enormous stands peppered with grinning salespeople, I prefer the slightly less slick (and much more interested/interesting) volunteers from all the Family History Societies. From Glamorgan to Norfolk, Yorkshire to East Sussex there is hardly a part of the country that isn't represented at the event (apart from Northamptonshire...).
On my last foray, I found a great publication from Lincolnshire Family History Society: Minutes from the Holbeach Union Workhouse. This is the institution that my great x 3 grandfather John Walker (see previous posts) spent some of his childhood.
This year, I bought two more Minute book summaries. Each covers a period of about ten years and includes every reference to 'paupers' that the Society researchers have found in the Minute Books.
Last week, I was surprised to locate my widowed great x 4 grandmother living in Gedney with one of her daughters in 1851 - while her other five children languished in the Holbeach Union Workhouse at nearby Fleet.
On 20 October 1851, the Minutes reveal: "Ordered that the mother of the children named Walker now in the workhouse and chargeable to the parish of Gedney be apprehended for not maintaining her children unless she choose to come to the workhosue with them."
So Mrs Walker (she who may or may not have been born in Ireland and was formerly a lace maker) was being called to account. Poor, widowed and with many mouths to feed, she seems to have done what many families in those days did: put her children in the workhouse and remain outside, to work. Giving her the benefit of the doubt (I don't accept a role as judge and jury to be part of my family tree research remit), perhaps she fell on even harder times? Lost her employment? Was ill?
No further mention is made in the Minutes of Mrs Walker and her children. I think I will need to check the Admissions register to establish whether she did join her family at Fleet.
Of course, what it does prove is that the Mary Walker I located in Gedney in 1851 IS my ancestor - so now I have to find what happened to her. More questions!
And as for Mary's daughter Matilda...let's summarise the Minutes somewhat and merely mention: assault; bastardy; child abandonment; destitution; imprisonment on two occasions. Yes, she was what the Guardians of the Union Workhouse refer to as a "refractory pauper" - refractory meaning 'impossible to manage', 'stubbornly disobedient', 'resisitent to authority'. Her case was reported in the Lincolnshire Chronicle (thanks to British Newspaper Archives for that one) wherein she is referred to as an "old offender". Quite a different woman to the benevolent old 'aunt Matilda' I had imagined living next door to my gran as a small girl in Whaplode!
On my last foray, I found a great publication from Lincolnshire Family History Society: Minutes from the Holbeach Union Workhouse. This is the institution that my great x 3 grandfather John Walker (see previous posts) spent some of his childhood.
This year, I bought two more Minute book summaries. Each covers a period of about ten years and includes every reference to 'paupers' that the Society researchers have found in the Minute Books.
Last week, I was surprised to locate my widowed great x 4 grandmother living in Gedney with one of her daughters in 1851 - while her other five children languished in the Holbeach Union Workhouse at nearby Fleet.
On 20 October 1851, the Minutes reveal: "Ordered that the mother of the children named Walker now in the workhouse and chargeable to the parish of Gedney be apprehended for not maintaining her children unless she choose to come to the workhosue with them."
So Mrs Walker (she who may or may not have been born in Ireland and was formerly a lace maker) was being called to account. Poor, widowed and with many mouths to feed, she seems to have done what many families in those days did: put her children in the workhouse and remain outside, to work. Giving her the benefit of the doubt (I don't accept a role as judge and jury to be part of my family tree research remit), perhaps she fell on even harder times? Lost her employment? Was ill?
No further mention is made in the Minutes of Mrs Walker and her children. I think I will need to check the Admissions register to establish whether she did join her family at Fleet.
Of course, what it does prove is that the Mary Walker I located in Gedney in 1851 IS my ancestor - so now I have to find what happened to her. More questions!
And as for Mary's daughter Matilda...let's summarise the Minutes somewhat and merely mention: assault; bastardy; child abandonment; destitution; imprisonment on two occasions. Yes, she was what the Guardians of the Union Workhouse refer to as a "refractory pauper" - refractory meaning 'impossible to manage', 'stubbornly disobedient', 'resisitent to authority'. Her case was reported in the Lincolnshire Chronicle (thanks to British Newspaper Archives for that one) wherein she is referred to as an "old offender". Quite a different woman to the benevolent old 'aunt Matilda' I had imagined living next door to my gran as a small girl in Whaplode!
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