Exhumed but not identified

There was a right rumpus in 2005.  The developers rammed their bulldozers into an old family crypt at Highfield, Burnside, South Australia.  It's a heritage area, and it sounds a bit embarrassing.  It took a bit of effort to identify the bodies and the next of kin of the Drews (who used to own the property) were found and added some helpful hints from old letters they had.

I stumbled on all this via a google search for Sophia Dauncey and her husband Joseph.  Last seen at their wedding in Somerset in 1810 and not leaving any obvious traces since that time.  - Until the discovery of their bodies in 2005 and the subsequent newspaper coverage and web traffic.  There was even a headline 'Who was Mrs Dauncey?' asked by the residents of Kangaroo Island, seemingly in possession of a main street named after Sophy.

Well I got onto it.

There were lots of clues, but the one thing I knew for sure was the Edward Drew wasn't the brother of Sophia, who I was pretty certain was a Lucas.  However when I looked for marriages for Edward, one name and location jumped out at me 'Bristol, Sophia Cook' in 1830.  This seemed possible.  When I looked for possibles for Sophia's baptism, I found myself as I usually do, back in Baltonsborough, Somerset.  In this case, the year was 1804.

When I shook the database a little bit more, I found out yet again that Sophia's mother was a Lucas.

So, good.  We have two Sophias.  One was the wife of Edward Drew, and the other was her aunt, Mrs Dauncey.  All fairly tidy - but enough to confuse a lot of newspapers and by no means as quick to pin down as this little blog implies.

So to recap,
Carey Lucas and his wife Susannah married in 1772 and had a nine-year gap, then:
* Elizabeth Lucas was born 1781 at Baltonsborough 'Bolsbury' and evidently baptised as part of the Hardman Chapel circuit (died 1839)
after some more kids, came:
* Sophia Lucas born 1791 and baptised 1792 at Mr Hardman's Chapel (evidently in South Petherton)
she witnessed my ancestor's marriage in 1805 in Baltonsborough
and introduced the name Sophia into the family
and married herself in 1810 to Joseph Dauncey, later the farm manager at Highfield.  No kids.

(I still have no idea why my distant aunt gave her child the name Sophia Lucas in 1818 as there was no quick connection to this Sophia.)

Elizabeth Lucas (1781-1839) married James Cook of Keinton Mandeville (d 1850) and had four children Sophia, Mary, Matthew and Sarah of whom only the first two were baptised (and Matthew as an adult).

Sophia Cook we believe married Edward Drew at 1830 in Bristol and emigrated to Australia on the Lalla Rookh together, with their 2 children and with Drew's nephew Samuel (from Stoke sub Hambdon).  Drew himself was from Odcombe near Yeovil, son of Samuel Drew senr and Jean Geard, who'd married at Montacute.

Mary Cook may have married John Pippen at East Pennard in 1830, and had a daughter Jane who quite probably married Thomas Stafford the stoker at Bristol 1852 and most likely died 1855 leaving no issue.

Edward's descendants may have died out, but the tale of the overgrown crypt hasn't quite, yet.  So that wraps it all up.  And if anyone wants to quibble about the beautiful stone inscription (above), there's no need. Sophia would have been a sister to Edward, even if the actual explanation involves a lot more people.

Postscript, found this on Ancestry:

Elizabeth Drew with the Daunceys in 1841, Martin Street, Baltonsborough:

Ann Waterman was born in Somerton, daughter of Charles Waterman and his wife Frances Maria Dauncey (from Baltonsborough) - who were with their other children in London.

COULD the contact below pls contact me again - ideally with email address.  Comment won't go live but I can then pick up the message and contact you direct.  Elizabeth and her mother both named in Sophia Dauncey's will...

Is it true?

In theory we're all cousins, writes Peter Calver, on his site lostcousins.com (which boasts an authoritative must-read newsletter, by the way). 
  

He says that you'll find find 3rd, 4th, and 5th cousins on his site.  Well, sir, I have to say that I already knew who all my 3rd-4th-5th cousins were before getting on the internet.  They are far from lost - I know all about them.  I would need to be given more tempting bait before carrying out the serious amount of work involved in creating a presence on another family history website.

On the second point that the relatives we're most interested in are those researching their tree.  I'd emphatically argue the contrary.  Thanks to Who Do You Think You Are, a lot of people have SOME interest in their family - and even more would do so if the death of a rich relative in their favour seemed possible.  It's up to you the researcher to worm out the information.  Researchers will always find each other.  What's needed is a tool to rapidly find the next-of-kin, the photograph-hoarders, the storytellers.  Many of whom are absolutely not researchers as they possess a completely different skillset.  I never learn anything from fellow researchers - but rather from the real people who inhabit the lives of their ancestors.  Who are still born in the house their grandfather built - who remember their grandfather getting a visitor from Australia in 1915.

One of my cousins runs a chippie in Swindon and I'd been looking for her for ages.  I finally tracked her down and my letter came through the door just while she was watching that great British programme Heirhunters.  Do you think she was 'actively researching her tree'?  And was she exactly the person I needed to contact?  By heck she was.

A final factors is that researchers are often keen to research, not to communictae.  Finding other researchers may not be their goal at all.  For myself I'd rather spend time online researching, or sleuthing virgin source.  Keying in data into researchers' match-making sites is way down the bottom of the list.  Let's wait and see what solutions technology can bring to the more basic puzzle of reuniting people with data that they want - Data Reunited?

free wi-fi, very tasty loose ends, but too much beach glare

It couldn't be more perfect.  It's November, and I have a paid job which effectively means I am the only person anywhere near the beach in this wonderful Eurasian seaside location.  It's hot, the waves are moving in synchrony with the palm trees and the white-washed walls of a carefully preserved hotel are easing my lower back as I pen these words.
I owe various Wi-Fi hotspots a great debt of gratitude for allowing me to plumb the wonderful new databases now online these past few months.  I have interesting lines of family history enquiries in the States, Australia, Cornwall, Devon, Ireland and elsewhere to mine.  I am only a few clicks away from my preferred action point - sticking a letter in the mail.
But I cannot summon up the will to 'finish the business'.
Some examples of the juicy loose ends I've not tracked:
* Frances Louise Dixon, who died at Crossville Tennesee a farmer's widow in 1931 and whose death certificate not only names the mother (born 1814 England) but it's all been indexed as well.  Will I find a country singer or two among her descendants I wonder.
* Mary Rapson, the much ignored half-aunt of my ancestors (one of whose samplers we have), who predeceased both her parents, but not before she took over the linen works at Trannack Mills, Sithney, Cornwall.  And whose grandson rebirthed himself as a successful Devon farmer, yards away from the Crediton smallholding where I first learnt the magic of the farming cycle, some years later...
* Robert Harding, who slips through all the cracks but turns up in 1911 with a birthplace of Oughterard, Galway.  You can only find him on the familysearch database if you are searching for 'born Ireland'.  He has to be one of my tribe and his Brixton-reared offspring have me on the run.  Also his brother Edward, whose family hopscotched around the marriage records here and in Eire.
* E D Scott, who supplied uniform to the Yankees in the Civil War of 1862.  His diaries are at Duke University, in one of the Carolinas.  And the 1940 census shows his only grandchild in tornado-strewn Ladysmith Wisconsin.  I bet there's some stories there for the asking.
* RWF, my relative who left his wife and family in Illinois for a new life with a very different partner in Anchorage Alaska.  His daughter appears in the 1940 census for Washington state, and thanks to findagrave, I can easily spot her grandchildren in the telephone directory.  What's holding me back....

Somehow the prevalence of sunshine is keeping me away from family history.  But like all great addictions, it's going to come back in full force, most probably when I get back in England.  As Mary Queen of Scots said when she landed at Leith to a cold Scottish people in 1561, 'the best is yet to come'.

And I have a great project for the new year, assuming there'll be any time at all...

Percy Hammond-Bell

Finally Percy Creed Bell born 1873 Abersychan Monmouthshire run to ground as Percy Hammond-Bell, acting as best man to a fancy wedding in Hollywood June 1896 and then witnessing gangland Chinese murder the next month, July 1896 and having to undergo long trial which seems to have culminated in October.See Californian Digital Newspaper Collection.  Not surprisingly, Percy vacated the area and pops up in Omaha NE, Washington State and finally Salem, Oregon, near where his brother is also recorded as living in the 1930 census.  He survived the trial over sixty years, dying about age 85 in 1958.  I wonder if his family in Somerset followed the news.  He was described as a gentlemanly looking Englishman, and occasionally wavered over testimony due to the pressure.  He was a 'kingpin witness'.  His father was a Methodist minister, then of Ipswich (per newspaper and Hill's Arrangement which lists ministers).

The science part? I saw Percy H Bell in the US censuses. I pondered on (a) if he was ours, then (b) what would the H stand for. I had earlier found that his sister's middle name of Hammond was actually their grandmother's maiden name (source: probate indexes, familysearch) and concluded that searching the internet for 'Percy Hammond Bell' might just be worthy of my time. It took me straight to our Chinese gangland moment.

Further updates? Percy lost his elder son in the Columbia River, 1919, and lost his reputation a matter of years later. His younger son was much engaged but seemingly the last of the line, passing in 1977.

James Creed b 1809 West Pennard, Som

Unclear yet if he was
1841 West London Union with wife Sarah, (stepson?) Henry, daughter Martha and future children Angeline (?) and Sarah Mary Ann (1842).
There is a John Creed and wife Ann Gilbertson in the area at the same time, who also baptise children including Angeline at St Andrew Holborn.

James Creed married April 1837, before civil registration, to Sarah Harrison at St Lawrence Jewry/Mary Magdalene, Milk Street, City.

They live Hamilton Twp, Ontario 1851, 1871 and must be there 1881 as James and Sarah's deaths are recorded in the province and certificates may give more information.

Martha Eliza Creed 1839 married Charles Robert Hunt and died 1909 giving father's name as JC - a photograph of her is apparently currently live at www.ancientfaces.comwww.ancientfaces.com/research/photo/360071/martha-eliza-creed-hunt-family-photo

Not sure where descendant Ann Hunt Zindler is - posted information about her ten years ago, 2002.

Sarah Mary Ann Creed is recorded as Mary Ann in 1851, and marriage record not found, nor what became of Henry.

1856 and all that

In 1856, George Nuttall died and his executor subsequently found (or wrote) two codicils, amending the will in his favour.  Surprisingly it took 38 years and 3 court cases for the truth to out; the witnesses having been probably bribed and lying most inconsistently.

As a naive young family historian in the 1990s I had no idea that what I held in my hand was a document from exactly the same year and town, and every bit as suspicious as the Nuttall codicil.

Joseph Carline had made his will in 1852: a grand old document, running to several pages, and sparing no detail.  He names several properties, including the meadow, the Willow Piece, which I found through tithe maps, and was able to visit, and photograph.

On the day of his death, we're invited to believe he reached for his pen again and wrote another will; without revoking the earlier document.  The date was December 1856.

From 1 January 1858, would-be forgers had to stand up in a civil court and were perhaps more thoroughly examined in matters probate - it no longer being a matter for the Bishop's officers.

Joseph had genuine grounds for changing his will - his daughter had died at Easter, but a simple codicil would have sufficed.  The second, badly drafted will, hints it being made by family members, perhaps at his direction.  He may have forgotten, on the day of his death, that matters were already resolved, and that is why the second document was passed down to me - when if valid, it should have been the one in the Bishop of Lichfield's hands, April 1857.

It was a big shock when I ordered Joseph's will, expecting a carbon copy of the later document, only to find this impressive earlier screed from 1852 being the one kept on file.  I personally think it's genuine, the later document, just ill-advised.  I particularly like the reference to a new house, clearly built in the last four years.  But he would have left four houses to a foppish 19 year-old distant grandson and nothing to family close by: certainly a mistake.

We only know about the document because its transcriber finally learnt to read and write in his twenties, because I wrote to ask him about it, and because I did so in the nineties - the thing having more lately got lost.  It's probable it won't turn up again, though I should dearly like to see it.

Not so fertile

Thomas Henry Craig Stevenson in 1909 postulated that working-class women would have large families than those higher up the income chart.  In 1911, he and Sir Bernard Mallett, the Registrar-General, included the famous fertility question in the census, which now makes us consider the number of Victorian infant deaths (10 or more years earlier) rather than there being 'too many living children' from the poor.

However, as someone for whom those details have been most revealing in conducting my research, I was of course surprised to find Stevenson among my cousins.  Or rather, I wasn't.

As soon as I found my relative had married Miss Catherine De Boudry in Bristol, I was pretty sure we'd be surfing a genteel wave for at least a couple of generations, Stevenson in fact was going to marry Miss De Boudry's grandddaughter.

Just a week ago I despaired of finding out the stories of the 6 Scott children baptised at Ditcheat and environs in the 1780s.  Their cousins set off for Monmouthshire and all sent for each other: though as butchers and factory workers, Chepstow was an odd choice to say the least.  But the 6 Scotts in question didn't go to Chepstow, they went to Britain's second city around the corner, Bristol.  I have no idea why Bristol got routinely ignored by my Somerset farming families.  They were happy to retire to regency, tasteful, Bath; but for a farmer, the true county town of Bristol seemed to offer nothing.

To inhabit Bristol with the same style as a yeoman farmer you needed a much higher income.  When I examined the PCC wills more closely I saw that Benjamin and William Scott were corn factors (as was an unmarried sister), while youngest sister Susanna had married an accountant, Henry Northcote.  William's father-in-law had kept a school at Kingsdown, personally approved by John Wesley.

Northcote stole £10,000 in 1839 and was transported on the Barossa, begging to be given Sunday school duties as he commenced his long sentence.  I haven't checked to see if he survived, but his wife died of shame.  There's a clue in her will 'wife of Henry, LATE of the City of Bristol': she having been given a house in Sidney Place through a marriage settlement, which did not form part of her husband's debts.

Benjamin Scott sailed for America after his mother-in-law had died, leaving his eldest child behind with brother William, presumably to claim her inheritance; and also as his poor wife still had no children.  Matilda rejoined the others 18 years later and was still alive age 90, unmarried, according to my reading of US tax records.  (And in 1880 living with E D Scott, Minneapolis.)

That just leaves William and Miss De Boudry to continue the line in England, and as Stevenson might have guessed (with 3 children and no heirs himself) we are shortly and swiftly led to the single descendant - a fundraising expert in Cheshire.

Small wonder I've not been besieged by enquiries about these Bristolians.  It's yet possible that the oldest sister, Grace Scott, had surviving children by her husband James Hill, but I'm not hopeful!  They just had too much money to be fertile.

The Stapleford dilemma

We've proved it.  Now I need to wonder whether I like it.  John Barton from Matlock moved to Stapleford aged 22 or thereabouts in 1792.  Considering that he was a farmer's son, most probably a carpenter, it's pretty neat to pin him down so firmly.  The evidence is fairly easily acquired: his father's will of 1822 shows he was living then at Stapleford, being the executor.  Further, a John Barton of Matlock marries in 1792 in Kirk Ireton, and that couple's children are certainly born, and stayed, in Stapleford.  Pretty compelling.

Stapleford must have been an attractive village recalled as being in the Broxtowe hundred, with country roads reminiscent of A R Quinton.  The lace industry operated there, and it seems a river ran through it.  My modern AA map makes it impossible to imagine the area before roads, and it's far too dang close to Nottingham.  Mr Woodward kindly tells us two hundred people were thrown out of work 1881 when a large lace factory in the village was burnt to the ground.

Folk of Matlock had several options when the industrial era came, and for unskilled workers, the cotton mills to the west exerted a big pull.  Carpenters could work anywhere, and shopkeepers or publicans could also take advantage of the larger towns to settle there.

In a world where all our big towns look the same (not the smaller Cheadles, Petsworths), and former industrial communities look greenest of them all, I offer three cheers for the Matlock folk who moved to beautiful Bollington; and two cheers for those who went to Gotham, still a small village.  But only one cheer for the Stapleford move.

I am glad to see a picture of the Warren Arms, the Barton home, with the sheep being driven to market.  1792 may seem early enough to be part of rural Broxtowe goings-on, but all too soon it's 1881 and the grandchildren are heading to labouring jobs in Nottingham and Manchester, leaving their heritage behind.  In addition, they'd already lost the extended family back in Matlock by moving twice.

One brave family, the Stapleford Greasleys, rejected the big Midlands towns on offer and went straight to Marcus Hook, Pennsylvania, in 1850.