Category Archives: Yorkshire

From Gildersome to Gorton (Other Locations Available): An Analysis of the Aveyard Families in the 1851 Census

It might not be everyone’s idea of a pleasant way to while away the hours, but I’ve had tremendous fun analysing the various Aveyard families in the 1851 census of England and Wales. I will eventually get onto constructing family trees as I link more building blocks of information. But for now I concentrated on focusing on the Aveyards as a group looking at their ages, birth and address locations, occupations and even Christian names.

I’ve loved playing with various chart formats to depict the information. Perhaps I really do need to get out more! However I hope those with Aveyard ancestry connections will enjoy seeing the bigger picture and working out where their particular branch fits. And at the outset I should caution this is a work in progress – I do envisage revisions to the data as I grow more familiar with the Aveyards!

I undertook 1851 census surname searches using both Ancestry and Findmypast, genealogical dataset provides, to try to minimise any omissions through transcription errors. This is a big risk if relying on one genealogical data provider. These searches included both the Aveyard surname and an infrequently used alternative spelling of Haveyard. For ease I will use Aveyard generally, unless I’m specifically referring to an individual who uses the Haveyard spelling.

I then checked the image, again to minimise any transcription errors. If the image proved problematical with Findmypast I checked the Ancestry image and vice versa.

Going through each entry personally in this way also gave me a far better ‘feel‘ for the Aveyard families. Yes, it’s time consuming. But I think it’s worth it.

In total there were 211 occurrences of the Aveyard surname, split between 105 males and 105 females. One entry, for a Gorton (Lancashire) Aveyard, was so badly damaged it was impossible to determine age, relationship or gender. Therefore any analysis of these specific factors (unless indicated) is based on an overall Aveyard total of 210.

The youngest Aveyard, Ellen (of Gildersome), was newborn. The eldest one, Benjamin (born in Gorton and living in Mancester), was 75.  There were only six Aveyards in their 70’s, so less than three per cent. The average age, based on the 210 entries with legible ages, was 24.72.

The marital status of the Aveyards is depicted in Chart 1, below.

Chart 1:

45 Aveyards were heads of the household. The precise split of relationship to the head of household of the 211 Aveyards is given in Chart 2, below.

Chart 2:

I next looked at Christian names. William (17 occurrences), George (16) and Thomas/Tom (11) were the top three male names. For females bearing the Aveyard name, including those by virtue of marriage, Mary (16) and Sarah (13) were those in double digits. The full breakdown of male names is in Chart 3, and females in Chart 4.

Chart 3:

Chart 4:

Next I looked at birth and address counties and, within these counties, the precise address and birth location. For part of this piece of analysis I excluded married and widowed females, on the basis these were highly unlikely to be born as an Aveyard. The results were startling. There is an overwhelming northern England geographical concentration of Aveyards, with Yorkshire being the main location.

Chart 5 shows the birth county of all Aveyard surname bearers – it shows 83.41 per cent of all Aveyards in the 1851 census were Yorkshire-born; 10.90 per cent were born in Lancashire; and 3.31 were Cheshire-born. Five others were born in either Durham, Lincolnshire or Middlesex.

Chart 5:

Chart 6 (below) excludes married and widowed females (and the unknown gender entry). This leaves 169 male or unmarried female Aveyards. Removing this cohort further narrows down the counties to only four. The Yorkshire concentration increases, with 86.39 per cent born in this county. Of the others 10.05 per cent are Lancashire-born, 2.36 Cheshire and 1.18 per cent Middlesex

Chart 6:

When looking at the address counties of the Aveyards we are down to the triumvirate of Yorkshire, Lancashire and Cheshire as depicted in Charts 7 and 8.

Chart 7:

Chart 8:

My final couple of charts relating to birth and address locations of Aveyards once more excludes married and widowed females and the one Aveyard of unknown gender, so again is based on 169 people.

Chart 9 focusing on birthplace shows 15.38 per cent are born in Gildersome and 18.34 per cent in West Ardsley, both in Yorkshire. West Ardsley also covers Lee Fair and Woodchurch, so including the two who give these birthplace locations increases the West Ardsley percentage to 19.52. One gives a birthplace of Ardsley. As this could equally be East Ardsley I have not included it in the West Ardsley calculations.

Chart 9:

Many of the other Yorkshire birthplaces are within close proximity to West Ardsley. The closest 22 are depicted in the map below, with West Ardsley at (1).

Map of Yorkshire Birthplaces near to West Ardsley

KEY: 1 = West Ardsley; 2 = Gildersome; 3 = Wakefield; 4 = Alverthorpe; 5 = East Ardsley; 6 = Liversedge; 7 = Gomersal; 8 = Leeds; 9 = Belle Isle (Bellisle); 10 = Hunslet; 11 = Adwalton; 12 = Birstall; 13 = Dewsbury; 14 = Holbeck; 15 = Littletown; 16 = Morley; 17 = Rothwell; 18 = Crofton; 19 = Drighlington; 20 = Kirkstall; 21 = Middleton (Leeds); 22 = Soothill; 23 = Stanley.

As the crow flies looking at points north, south, east and west to West Ardsley: Kirkstall is 11.42 miles; Crofton is 11.59 miles; Liversedge is 8.81; and to Rothwell is 7.72 miles.

In Lancashire Gorton is the most popular birthplace, with 11 Aveyards (6.5 per cent) giving this as their birth location. It is the fourth most popular behind Yorkshire’s West Ardsley, Gildersome and Wakefield.

Chart 10 depicts addresses. 49 (28.99 per cent) have a Gildersome address. In comparison only five live in West Ardsley, showing a migration away from what was their largest birth location.

Chart 10:

The corresponding map showing the closet locations to top address spot Gildersome (1) are depicted on the map below.

Map of Yorkshire Settlement Places Closest to Gildersome

KEY: 1 = Gildersome; 2 = Batley; 3 = Stanley cum Wrenthorpe; 4 = Liversedge; 5 = Middleton (Leeds); 6 = Birstall; 7 = Gomersal; 8 = West Ardsley; 9 = Alverthorpe with Thornes; 10 = Hunslet; 11 = Leeds; 12 = Adwalton; 13 = Wakefield; 14 = Beeston; 15 = Morley; 16 = Soothill.

My final piece of analysis depicted in the bar charts at Charts 11 to 13 looks at occupations of males and females aged eight and upwards, and all children up to and including 16 years of age.

The stand-out occupation of the male Aveyards is coal miner with 21 giving this as an occupation. A further 11 had coal-related occupations, including one engine tenter working in a colliery. In other words 38.55 per cent of all male Aveyards age eight and upwards were employed in the coal industry. All of these boys and men lived in Yorkshire, 19 of them in Gildersome. There were only 24 males age eight and upwards in a Gildersome. Over in Lancashire the nine Aveyards in this age bracket had no real common occupational grouping: two errand boys, a hatter, a retired hatter plus a leather cutter, french polisher, herald knitter, mechanic and annuitant. In Cheshire there was a hat maker and mechanic. All three of those with a hat making link were Gorton-born.

Chart 11:

Looking at females in the age eight and above category 42, equivalent to 51.85 per cent, had no occupation listed. Of the others many had domestic and service work and over 18.5 per cent had a cloth manufacturing role.

Chart 12:

The final chart (Chart 13) looks at eight to 16-year-olds. Of the 86 in this age group:

  • 35 had no details given:
  • 21 were at school;
  • a further three were described as splitting their time between mill and school. These were the only eight and nine-year-olds described as having a job;
  • in addition to these three split-timers, a further eight were in the cloth industry; and
  • seven (including two ten-year-olds0 worked in the coal mining industry.

Chart 13:

So where do my direct-line Aveyards fit in? In 1851 my 4x Great Grandparents George and Hannah Aveyard were alive as were my 3x Great Grandparents Peter and Caroline Aveyard (married in 1846). Caroline was born in Gildersome, the others in West Ardsley. George (71) was a labourer and Peter (25) a coal miner. I do know from other records George had been a coal miner When younger. Neither wife had a listed occupation. George and Hannah (63) lived in Gildersome and Peter and Caroline in Adwalton. Note as married women neither Hannah (63) or Caroline (24) appear in the birthplace or settlement place tables. Based on this I’d say they were typical of the Aveyards as a whole.

I did wonder about publishing this post as I may subsequently identify some Aveyards overlooked in my first sweep of the 1851 census. For instance I have a feeling at least one Yorkshire branch of the family may have used the name Halfyard in the census. This may add around 20+ more names. I reckon there are five in Lancashire and around seven in Cheshire. All this needs verifying. Also the ages given may subsequently prove incorrect when I eventually start cross-matching with civil registration and parish register information. In the end I decided to go for it. I can always update this research if I do discover other Aveyards. And as for the age details, I will for the purposes of census analysis stick with what they gave. So, as I said earlier, view this as a work in progress and watch this space for further updates.

Sources:

A Batley Murder: “I Have Done it For Love”

On 31 December 1895 Tom Morley received a final letter at his Batley home from his brother Pat. Written from Armley jail on the eve of Pat’s death it read:

My dear Tom, I am very sorry to part with ye, but I hope I will meet ye in heaven, I will soon be in a better place withe [sic] the help of God I am preparing to go home to-morrow at nine o’clock, and I am leaving ye all my kind love. Let ye all pray for me this night and let ye pray for poor Lizzie that is gone before me. Dear Tom, I was no disgrace to you this 20 years in England untill [sic] now. Tom, it is my foolishness that left me here. It is hard work to rite [sic] this letter. Tom, I must conclude, and I am bidding ye all a long farewell. God be with you for ever. [1]

Pat Morley’s last night on earth was fairly restful. In the morning he ate a light breakfast, and was joined from 7am until 8.50am by Father Hassing, the Catholic prison chaplain. Prayers were said until James Billington, the government hangman, came for him.

Arms strapped to his side Morley was led to the chalk-marked drop point by a number of warders. Father Hassing, in the procession, recited the service for the dead in Latin. On reaching the spot, his ankles were strapped together, his face covered with a white cap, Major Knox the Prison Governor gave the signal and Morley dropped 7′ 6″ to his death.

One hour later he was cut down, placed in a black-painted coffin and the perfunctory inquest held confirming the death sentence had been duly carried out. Two more formalities ensued. The Declaration of the Sheriff and Others read:

We, the undersigned, hereby declare that Judgment of Death was this Day executed on Patrick Morley in Her Majesty’s Prison of Leeds in our Presence.
Dated this 31st day of December 1895 E Gray Under Sheriff of Yorkshire. James Knox, Governor of the said Prison. Anthony J Hassing Chaplain of the said Prison. [2]

The Certificate of the Armley Prison Surgeon (at this time the word Surgeon was also used to refer to a doctor, rather than having our 21st century understanding), Berkeley Moynihan stated he had examined the body of Patrick Morley and death was confirmed. Later Berkeley Moynihan was elevated to the peerage as the 1st Baron Moynihan. More recent readers may be more familiar with the 4th Baron Colin Moynihan, a British Olympic coxswain and a former Conservative sports minister, who was the grandson of the Armley prison doctor.

Old Gate Armley Gaol (edited Black & White) – Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons License 3.0 (Share Alike)

It was all a far cry from Pat’s early life on a farm near Charlestown, County Mayo. In this countryside surrounds he was brought up with his three brothers and two sisters. But, as was the case with so many Irish, their homelands became but distant memories. By the 1890s one brother lived in Liverpool, another in Ripon and a third, Thomas, in Batley along with a sister, Bridget. Their father, however, remained in Ireland.

Standing at 5′ 7″ [3] Patrick was a thin, spare man, with sharp cast features and a somewhat ruddy appearance. Some went so far as to describe him as having an intellectual type of face. His most noteworthy features were his deep, brooding eyes – although Lucy Cooper, one of the witnesses giving evidence in front of the Magistrates in Batley Town Hall on 30 September, said to much laughter “Nay, he’s nowt in my line to look at.

In England Pat was said:

…to have been possessed of a good bit of pride, and, being able to command good wages, he has, to quote the words of one of his relatives, “not gone into the tap-rooms but into the best rooms, amongst the gents.” [4]

He met Elizabeth Stratton whilst working in Harrogate. She ran a lodging house in which he stayed. Born in Halifax in 1853 (so slightly older than the 35 years indicated at the time of her death), she was the daughter of John and Elizabeth Stratton (née Penny). She and her siblings, William, Mary, Joseph and James, grew up in Bradford with their father’s jobs including a labourer in a stone quarry and an earthenware dealer. Her parents died in late 1880 and, after initially working as a glass and China shopkeeper in Bradford, she moved to Harrogate. Described as a respectable, educated woman she was often seen in that town dressed in black, wearing a veil.

According to the same relative of Pat’s:

…seeing he had some good clothes and was a decent fellow who didn’t mix with the roughs, she married him. [5]

Their wedding took place in Harrogate at Christmas-time in 1893.

Within months though marital problems emerged. Although regarded as a quiet, steady, inoffensive man, it seemed Pat liked a drink. This caused him to became jealous of the lodgers. According to Tom “He was not a right drunkard but he spent his money in drink.” [6]

One jealous alcohol-fuelled incident saw Pat hitting a resident on the head with a poker.

When Lizzie arranged to remove her furniture from the house and leave, Pat barricaded himself inside and refused the removal men entry. She relented and returned to him, but as a result of his behaviour lodgers shunned Diamond Place, frightened away by the antics of the proprietor’s new husband.

The couple eventually left Harrogate, initially moving to Hunslet Lane, Leeds. It was here in July 1894 that Pat was bound over to keep the peace for 12 months after threatening his wife. A loaded revolver was found in his possession and taken from him – his brother Tom subsequently claimed in a statement to have thrown it into a river.

The couple came to Batley shortly afterwards (his brother reckoned about September 1894), living at Beaconsfield Villa. Here Pat worked for Batley Corporation as a labourer whilst Lizzie was employed as a power loom weaver at Sheard’s mill.

In July 1895, just before the expiration of his previous sentence, Pat appeared once again before the police court. It was a familiar charge: once more he’d made threats against his wife.

This time he was fined 40s and costs and bound over to keep the peace for six months.

He went to Harrogate to cool off and whilst he was away Lizzie, fearing for her safety, left the marital home. In early September she took lodgings at 1 Hirst Place, off Purlwell Lane, in the cottage belonging to Ellen Nutton and her married daughter Lucy Cooper.

Pat returned to Batley on 14 September for Batley Feast and immediately sought out his wife. In the following days he was a frequent visitor to Hirst Place, pleading with Lizzie to return to him. She refused, afraid he would harm her telling him “You know Pat, I daren’t live with you. You know you have threatened me so often.” [7]. At other times she said she would if he would “mend” and “if he would give over drinking.” [8]

After one rejection he briefly left Batley on 16 September and spent time in Harrogate then Ripon, where he purchased another bulldog-type revolver. He returned to Batley on 18 September and resumed his visits to Hirst Place, trying to persuade his estranged wife to come back. In one statement he said:

I kept begging her to change her mind, because I knew if she did not change her mind she would have to die for it… [9]

His final visit to Lizzie took place on Sunday 22 September. He arrived at around 1.15pm, whilst Lizzie was preparing dinner. Both Ellen and Lucy were in the room. He asked if she had been to church that morning, but she said not as she’d been too late.

Approaching 2pm, as Lizzie was snipping some parsley, he got up from his chair and moved towards her asking if she would lend him a shilling. It being Batley Feast time she too was short of money, having taken time off work to go to the jollities on the Saturday, Monday and Tuesday. As a consequence she had not finished the piece of cloth she was weaving (as a weaver she was paid by the piece).

Pat was now within an arms length of her. Saying “Get out Lizzie” he reached for his breast pocket, drew out the revolver and shot her once in the right temple. She fell to the ground at the feet of Ellen Nutton. She never spoke again.

British Bulldog Revolver – Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons License CCO 1.0

In his police statement later that afternoon he claimed if she had given him the shilling he would have gone away.

Pat then put the gun to his mouth and, with trembling hands, pulled the trigger once more. Despite the revolver firing, for some inexplicable reason it missed him. The bullet was subsequently found to have hit the wall behind him.

By now Lucy was shouting the alarm and banging on the window. Fred Ashton, a young miner who lived at 8 Hirst Place and who had heard the crack of two shots, came to see what was going on. He apprehended Pat on the doorstep of the cottage and led him back inside. Pat calmly handed the revolver to Fred.

The police and the Batley police surgeon were quickly summoned. PC William Robinson, who lived only 120 yards away, was the first Batley policeman on the scene. He was the constable who dealt with the domestic dispute only two months earlier.

Police surgeon Herbert Keighley was unable to save Lizzie who died at around 2.30pm. As she lay dying Pat muttered “I am sorry. I hope her soul is in heaven” and “I have done it for love.” [10]

Ellen, described as a matronly-looking woman, claimed at his trial in December that she felt if he had held out for just a couple more days Lizzie would have returned to him. Her evidence, as outlined in the Judge’s notes in that final December trial, appeared to indicate he and Lizzie had “slept together” during his Hirst Place visits. The Judge wrote the word “cohabiting” in the margins. [11] Whether this is true, what is not in doubt is during those few days after Pat’s return to Batley in September 1895 they spent several hours together, both at Hirst Place and around Batley visiting friends – for example Bridget Cafferty’s home on Spa Street.

Lizzie Morley’s inquest took place before Coroner Thomas Taylor in the late afternoon of 23 September. It was held at the New Inn, a public house on nearby Purlwell Lane.

Her funeral followed on Wednesday 25 September, officiated by Rev. Father Charles Gordon of St Mary of the Angels R.C. Church.

A large crowd gathered at Hirst Place ready to accompany her body to the cemetery, doubtless eager to hear the latest gossip about the tragedy. Work colleagues carried the flower-covered polished pitch pine coffin with brass furnishings from the house to the hearse. The procession, headed by around a dozen weavers from her workplace, then wound its way through those gathered along the Purlwell Lane, Clerk Green and Cemetery Road route.

Chief mourners were Lizzie’s brother Joseph and his wife, her aunt and uncle James and Louisa Naylor (her mother’s sister), sister-in-law Emily Stratton and cousin Elizabeth Penny. Some reports estimated around two thousand witnessed the ceremony.

In the meantime Pat appeared before Batley Magistrates on 23 and 30 September. On both occasions large crowds gathered outside the Town Hall with townsfolk hoping to catch a glimpse of the prisoner as he was brought to court.

Interior of Batley Town Hall – Photo by Chris Roberts (edited by Jane Roberts)

The first hearing held in the small Committee Room meant only limited public access.

At the second hearing even bigger crowds gathered outside the building two hours before proceedings commenced. Even after the doors opened people continued to arrive, and the crowd swelled to such an extent during the course of the hearing that traffic was obstructed. At the end of this hearing Pat was formally charged with the wilful murder of his wife and committed to trial at the next Leeds Assizes.

His brother Tom was a frequent visitor to his brother in Wakefield Gaol, where Pat remained in good spirits and had not despaired of being saved from the gallows. Tom wrote to a number of Pat’s former employers to get character references for him. Responses included one from Major Gorman of Smeaton Manor, Northallerton and Mr R Routledge of Hick House, Northallerton. The latter reply was typical:

I am very much grieved to hear of the dreadful act your brother has committed. I cannot imagine but that he was either really drunk or insane at the time he did it. When working for me he was always so cheerful and pleasant. I am afraid that anything I can say would avail him very little…If you are not able to employ counsel the judge will, no doubt, order someone to defend him… [12]

Another ploy was to try to prove Pat was mentally unstable. When the case came before Mr Justice William Grantham at the Assizes held at Leeds Town Hall on 9 December, evidence was produced to this effect. It included a family history of insanity. Pat’s brother Tom said “he had not been right in his head these ten years” and his condition worsened after his marriage. Tom went on to say they had an aunt similarly afflicted. Their brother Michael had “not been square in the head” since birth; neither was their cousin Mary who emigrated to America. Bridget Rowan, their sister, who lived at Woodwell, Batley gave similar evidence as to Pat’s mental state. She mentioned her brother had stayed with her in the three nights prior to the death of Lizzie. Whilst here his state of mind deteriorated to the point that he was incessantly talking to himself. [13]

Justice Grantham by “Spy” (Leslie Ward) Published in Vanity Fair 15 March 1890 – Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain Image (Author Died in 1922)

The Judge sought the opinion of Berkeley Moynihan (spelled Barclay by the Judge), Armley Gaol surgeon, who rebuffed this. In his opinion he had ordinary control of his actions and was quite responsible for them. The Judge’s notations of the doctor’s evidence included:

He seemed to have ordinary memory and was quite like an ordinary individual. [14]

The jury was also unconvinced. After listening to evidence from a parade of other witnesses including Ellen Nutton, Lucy Cooper, Fred Ashton, Dr Herbert Keighley, Batley policemen PC William Robinson, Sergeant Smith Machell and PC William Craven, as well as Leeds City policemen involved in the 1894 Leeds domestic dispute, they found the prisoner guilty.

Pat now gave a long, disjointed statement in a strong Irish accent as follows:

I have your riverence, [sic] your lordship – I am here. No docther [sic] in Leeds to [sic] examine me. I am in a weak state of mind. Your riverence [sic] I hope you will give me a fair chance. I was more fit for the asylum at the time. I was away three weeks. She sold my home. I went away to Harrogate. I was drunk during the time. I had been sober for twelve months. I loved my wife. I did not want to shoot her. No, I was not the man. I told the doctor at Wakefield all the time I was there. I said my head was rising off me. I told the doctor in Armley Gaol that my head was bad, and it has been bad for a number of years, as my friends know. I hope you will give me a chance. I did not intend to shoot my wife. I only had this revolver to frighten her. She would not go back to live with me. I did not think the revolver would go off at the time. The revolver went. I thought I hadn’t it ready for going. I had no more mind to shoot her if I had to drop dead before ye gentleman. I am the wrongest. I am the innocentest man, though I did it. I have the best character of any man in the world. She sold my home. I went to Harrogate to take the waters. I was not drinking then. Gentlemen – your Lord, it is only a little revolver. I only did it to frighten her. [15]

The Judge, unmoved, donned his black cap, and passed a sentence of death. A woman in the gallery sobbed once, and Patrick Morley, staring blankly ahead, was hustled out of the court.

However, some did raise questions about the verdict, blaming the unprepared, inexperienced defence counsel. A piece in The Leeds Times of 14 December 1895 said Pat had:

…the appearance of mental derangement, of at least feebleness and abnormal stupidity, and I think there may be more in the statement of his having two near relations in Ireland insane than was disclosed…Patrick Morley may be an idiot or a brute or a combination of both, but he ought not be hanged if he is in a mental state that weakens his responsibility. I trust that full inquiry will be made into his history and into his condition of mind.

The Judge had no such concerns. His notes mention his belief that the prisoner displayed shrewdness. They also indicate one of the first questions Pat asked his Council was if he should pretend to be insane and what was the best way to do this. However, the Judge did request a post-trial medical report. Dated 17 December 1895, Henry Clarke – the doctor who had seen him regularly during his two-month sojourn at Wakefield Prison – stated that on his arrival there on 24 September there was no evidence of delusions or hallucinations. It was only on 1 October that he appeared dull, stupid and slow in answering questions. The following day he denied ever seeing the doctor previously, claimed he had never been married and could not answer even the simplest of questions. The doctor gave special instructions for his visits with family and friends to be monitored. In these he repeatedly spoke about his wife with regard to her ring and some property and suggested to his brother that he should get evidence as to some relative who had been in an asylum. Dr Clarke concluded:

In my opinion he was sane and responsible for his actions. I regarded his conduct under examination during the latter part of his stay here as assumed. [16]

The decision remained unchanged. Pat Morley, now in Armley Gaol, philosophically awaited his fate, the date for his hanging set for 31 December 1895. His penultimate letter to his brother Tom read:

My dear Brother, Sorry I am to write you this lonesome letter in my present state, and in the position in which I am placed as you perhaps have heard that I am to die in the last day of the year; and let ye all pray for me. I have the priest coming to see me every day. Dear Tom, if only I had taken your advice I should not be placed in the position I am. Poor Tom, you always advised me for the best, and I didn’t take it, but I thought, Tom, I would not come to this end. Dear brother Tom, I will tell you the truth now, I will. Poor Lizzie is now dead and in Heaven I hope, and the Lord have mercy on her soul, and I am here, as he know, waiting to die; I will tell you Lizzie has been the cause of all this. I am going to die for her now, Tom, and Lizzie has brought it all on me and to herself. I never intended to take her life. Dear Tom, I am very sorry for poor Lizzie. Let ye all pray for Lizzie, Tom. I did not think last Christmas I should be here this Christmas. Tom, if I had taken your advice I would not be here. My dear brother, I must now conclude with my kind love to you, Mary and family. May God bless you all, and let ye all pray for me, as ye know I shall soon be in another world, where there is no end, but everlasting life. Tom and Mary, I am bidding you all a long farewell. I am sending my kind love to Maggy and all the children, and I am leaving my blessing to all the friends and neighbours. Tom, don’t forget poor Pat. Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye. xxxxxxxxxx [17]

A few lines to his sister read:

You always told me to be kind to Lizzie, and I was good and kind to her, but she was bad to me and to herself. She was all the time trying to provoke me. I could tell you a lot of things she did to me, but I will tell you no more. All ye pray for Lizzie. [18]

And so the final day of 1895 dawned, with the chorus of sparrows chirruping from the eaves of houses near to Armley Gaol. It was unusually mild. It was the day 38-year-old Patrick Morley became the last man to be executed for a Batley murder.

Footnotes:

  1. Yorkshire Evening Post – 4 January 189
  2. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A5749
  3. According to the Batley police statements used at the trial and held at The National Archives (TNA). Interestingly his HMP Wakefield records state 5′ 4½”
  4. Leeds Times – 12 October 1895
  5. Ibid
  6. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Thomas Morley, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  7. Huddersfield Daily Examiner, Inquest evidence of Ellen Nutton – 24 September 1895
  8. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Ellen Nutton, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  9. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Patrick Morley’s statement to Sergt Machell and PC Craven at Batley Police Station, 22 September 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  10. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Various witness depositions and in Judge’s Notes. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  11. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Ellen Nutton, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  12. Leeds Times – 26 October 1895
  13. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Thomas Morley and Bridget Rowan, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  14. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Judge’s Notes of evidence of Berkeley Moynihan, 9 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  15. Leeds Times – 14 December 1895
  16. Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Report of Henry Clarke, Medical Officer, Wakefield Prison, 17 December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  17. Yorkshire Evening Post – 4 January 1896
  18. Ibid

Sources:

  • West Yorkshire Prison Records, Wakefield Prison. Accessed via Ancestry.co.uk. Originals at West Yorkshire Archive Service, Wakefield, England, Reference C118/151
  • Leeds Assizes, Patrick Morley, December 1895. Originals at TNA, Reference HO 144/266/A57496
  • Bradford Daily Telegraph, 24 September 1895
  • Huddersfield Chronicle, 10 and 14 December 1895
  • Huddersfield Daily Examiner, 24 and 26 September 1895
  • Leeds Mercury, 10 and 28 December 1895,
  • Leeds Times, 28 September 1895, 5, 12 and 26 October 1895, 14 and 21 December 1895, 4 January 1896
  • Lincolnshire Chronicle, 27 September 1895
  • Yorkshire Evening Post, 4 January 1896
  • Yorkshire Herald, 1 October 1895
  • GRO Indexes
  • 1861 to 1911 Censuses

The Hanging Heaton Vicar Scandal – How Newspaper Reports Can Supplement Family and Local History

Passions were running high in Hanging Heaton in the summer of 1851. The vicar, Stephen Mathews, was attacked by a number of parishioners. Amongst the mob were Jane Halliwell who struck him several times with a coal basket, and James Scargill who hurled stones at him. As he beat a retreat the mob cried “Stone him! Stone him!

The case came before Dewsbury Magistrates at the end of July resulting in fines for Jane Halliwell, James Scargill, George and David Walker. This was the first of three connected cases to come before Dewsbury judiciary in less than two months. Events escalated further, culminating in the Bishop of Ripon ordering an official church inquiry in front of commissioners appointed by him under an Act for Better Enforcing Church Discipline. This was held over between 18 – 24 October 1851 at the Royal Hotel, Dewsbury.

The catalyst for these events was the birth of a boy on 27 May 1851, to unmarried 16-year-old Mary Halliwell of Soothill. Baptised on 29 July 1851 at Holy and Undivided Trinity church, Ossett cum Gawthorpe, he was named Stephen Mathews Halliwell…with the girl identifying the vicar as the child’s father. Jane Halliwell (née Scargill) was the girl’s mother, James Scargill her cousin.

Stephen Britannicus Mathews, the son of surgeon Stephen Mathews and his wife Anne, was born on 8 December 1790 in Calcutta. He was admitted to Cambridge University in 1807 and, after achieving his BA in 1812, he was ordained as a Deacon in Norwich in June 1812 and a priest in December that year. On 14 October 1813 he married Marian Ingle at St James Westminster. The marriage was by licence, Marian being a minor, with consent given by her widowed mother, Susanna.

The couple had one daughter, Helen, in around 1826. Between 1832 to 1837 Rev. Mathews was vicar at Knockholt in Kent. He arrived as incumbent at Hanging Heaton in 1840. The 1841 census saw him living along with Marian, Helen and two servants Amy Collins (35 in this age rounded down census) and local girl Achsah Day (15). By 1851 it was only him and Amy Collins, his wife and daughter having left him around a year ago.

The rebuilt St Paul’s Church, Hanging Heaton. Photo by Jane Roberts

In contrast to the vicar’s travels, Mary Halliwell’s life had been confined to Yorkshire. Her parents, Thomas Halliwell and Soothill-born Jane Scargill, married on 19 July 1834 at St Mary’s church in Prestwich, Lancashire. Mary’s baptism is recorded on 24 November 1834 at St Mary’s, Woodkirk. The family lived on Soothill Lane, with Thomas working as a shopkeeper.

By 1841 their circumstances had changed. Jane and Mary are recorded living at Soothill along with stone masons William (50), Thomas (30) and George (25) Scargill and seven-year-old James Scargill. Woodkirk baptism registers point to William being Jane’s father. The 1851 census shows 41-year-old stone mason Thomas now as head, with widow Jane (39) confirmed as his sister. She is officially listed as a housekeeper. But other sources show she also taught and undertook needlework, including sewing for the wife of the vicar of Woodkirk. Mary, age 16, is recorded as a scholar. Other household members included Thomas’ nephew James (17) and niece Harriet (1). The 1851 census, taken a just under two months away from the birth of Mary’s baby, hides the turmoil.

Mary was ailing, her body swelling. Later it was revealed she knew “she was in the family way” but the vicar had ordered her not to say anything. Her mother, despite the heavy hints and promptings of Batley Carr Surgeon William Rhodes, believed her daughter was suffering from dropsy – an illness already experienced in the family, and which had proved fatal. Dr Rhodes called in a favour and arranged for Mary to see a Leeds-based colleague, Dr Teale, in April. He confirmed Rhodes’ opinion: Mary was pregnant.

It was this pregnancy which led to the stoning of the vicar in late July. The newspapers indicated as much, with The Leeds Intelligencer report of the 2 August stating:

It appears some charge has been made or is about to be made against the rev. gentleman affecting the paternity of an illegitimate child.

The affiliation case came before Dewsbury Magistrates (J.B. Greenwood, J Hague, B. Wheatley and F. Wormald) on the 25 August. The densely crowded court listened to the evidence presented for the complainant. At 9pm Mr. William Watts, acting on behalf of the Rev. Mathews, announced he would not be calling any witnesses at this late hour. He felt assured the magistrates would not see anything in the prosecution evidence which would cause them to find his client guilty. He was correct. Mr Greenwood dismissed the case on the basis of insufficient evidence. At this point press coverage only merited a few paragraphs.

However the verdict created an outcry, with a feeling that justice had not been served. So much so that a rehearing was called for in mid-September. It took place in a court house “crowded to suffocation“, and lasted from 12 noon until 10pm. The magistrates included Hague and Wormald from the previous hearing, but also Rev. Allbut (vicar of Dewsbury), Rev. Milner [Miller] of Woodkirk, Rev. Collins of Ossett and Rev. Payne of Dewsbury Moor.

Mary was described in The Huddersfield Chronicle as:

…small of stature and possesses interesting features, though her general appearance is that of premature womanhood; and the suffererings which she must have undergone have left behind an apparent exhaustion and weakness.

It is clear from this newspaper’s report where their sympathies lie, describing her demeanour as quiet and unassuming, and giving evidence with great propriety.

The packed court heard how Mary, a scholar for nine years and latterly a paid teacher at Rev. Matthews’ school, had been subject to the vicar’s advances since September 1848 when she was just 14, although ‘connexion‘ did not take place until 25 August 1849. Assignations mainly took place in the schoolroom. She received a catalogue of presents, including trinkets, clothes and a portrait of the vicar as a young man. All these were listed in the various accounts of the hearing.Child welfare: Ragged School, Whitechapel, 19thC. (part of). Credit: Wellcome Collection. CC BY

A note was also produced, written by the vicar on 3 September 1849 when he was ill with cholera. It read:

MY POOR LITTLE MARY. If anything should happen to me remember there is a cheque in my desk, made payable to you only, and is duly signed, to authorise you to draw on the West Riding Bank for a sum of money which I have placed there for you, and it is yours alone. Remember this as the gift from your faithful and unchanging friend.

There were claims that in January 1850 Mary told the vicar she was pregnant (enciente was the delicate French term used by The Huddersfield Chronicle of 20 September 1851, mindful of Victorian sensibilities around such matters). As a result he procured three bottles of medicine for her which resulted in a miscarriage. Once she recovered, their relationship resumed. Her solicitor, Mr Scholes, even claimed that the vicar’s wife and daughter had left him as a result of the attention he paid to Mary.

Witnesses gave evidence as to him often being seen in the girl’s company. Her school monitor pay of 3s 6d a week continued even whilst her duties were reduced in order to hide her pregnancy. They heard how, when her pregnancy was confirmed, Rev. Mathews confessed to Mary’s mother he was the father.

Arrangements were hastily made to remove her to relatives, Mary and Rachel Spence, at Denshaw Beck in Woodkirk parish, in order to conceal the pregnancy. The Rev. Mathews involved himself in the finer details, including arrangements for transport and provision of a Morley doctor to attend her during her labour (apparently William Rhodes refused). He even gave Mary a purse containing 4s 6d when she departed for her safe-house. However, Mary stayed only five days before returning home. In a later hearing her mother said this was because both she and her brother thought it:

…wicked of us both to send her there to conceal the birth of a child when she was only a child herself. I did not know that she would ever come back alive, and I never could sleep until she came back again.

Mr Watts once more acted for Rev. Mathews. In cross-examining witnesses he suggested Mary had been involved with a 60-year-old shopkeeper, Benny Scargill, and a youth named William Wainwright. He also called into question the family sleeping arrangements, all sharing the same bedroom – with her uncle and nephew sleeping in one bed and Mary and her mother in another. It was in fact later revealed that this was the room in which Mary gave birth to her child, by which stage a modesty screen had been placed down the middle.

Describing Mary as a “wretched, depraved, lying girl” he claimed she, her mother and uncle had concocted the story to extort money from the vicar. He said there was no other evidence against his client, other than that presented by them. This was uncorroborated evidence, he asserted, which did not satisfy the requirement of the Act of Parliament dealing with these cases.

This Act, as explained in The Huddersfield Chronicle of 27 September 1851, stated that:

If the evidence of the mother [in an affiliation case] be corroborated in some material particular by other testimony, to the satisfaction of the said justices, they may adjudge the man to be the putative father of any such bastard child.

Once again Mr Watts declined to call any witnesses, although the justices insisted he call the Rev. Thomas Allbut, vicar of Dewsbury. His evidence included the fact that on 23 April 1851 Thomas Scargill, Mary’s uncle, had informed him that Mary was pregnant and Mr. Mathews was the father. As a result he interviewed Mary, and she too confirmed the vicar was father of her unborn child. Rev. Allbut admitted he thought the 3 September 1849 letter was a suspicious document, but when he interviewed the girl she said Mr Mathews was ill and she was a poor girl who had lost her character. Rev. Allbut informed them that the case had been referred to the Bishop of Ripon to consider.

Yet again Rev. Mathews gave no statement.

After 30 minutes deliberation the magistrates once more declined to make a maintenance order against the Rev. Matthews. The crowd showed their dissatisfaction with loud hisses which then gave way to:

a general utterance of merciless epithets upon Mr Mathews, the parsons, the church and state.

The case was now making national news. The Huddersfield Chronicle of 27 September entitled ‘Justices’ Justice‘ quoting from the London Examiner. The piece said the Rev. Mathews:

…is described as popular with the magistrates and gentry of the neighbourhood; and two clergymen, whose names occur in evidence, sat on the bench during the hearing of the case…..

It concluded:

As we are writing this article, we see that the case thus dismissed at the first hearing has again during the past week been brought on before the same bench of magistrates, with additional corroborative testimony. The magistrates again declined to make an order upon Mr. Matthews, [sic] stating that “the new evidence adduced had not materially strengthened the case.” We do not wonder at that. Short of evidence which should be of the most direct kind and not simply corroborative, we do not see how it would easily be possible to add strength to a case established so completely by so many witnesses, who stood up to swear one after another, and stood down again, in almost every instance unquestioned.

It was announced after the hearing that the case would probably be carried before another and more competent tribunal. Certainly it cannot rest as it stands. The interests of the church and society are not distinct; and it cannot be supposed that the exposure and punishment of clerical offenders brings a scandal which might be avoided by the church continuing to hold the worst kind of cruelty, vice, and hypocrisy, protected in her bosom.

Mary’s solicitor, describing her as the daughter of a poor widow woman, now publicly appealed for voluntary contributions to enable the bringing of a case of seduction against the Rev. Mathews at the next assizes.

It appeared the growing scandal now forced the Bishop of Ripon into action, leading to the final official inquiry lasting from 18 – 24 October in front of church-appointed commissioners. Mary attended dressed in mourning clothes. Within days of the end of the second hearing, her infant son died. His 19 September 1851 burial is recorded in the parish register of Ossett cum Gawthorpe.

The evidence in the church case was more lurid. The commissioners even proceeded to the home of Batley Carr surgeon William Rhodes who gave evidence from his sickbed. His testimony included further information about about Mary’s earlier miscarriage. It also included the declaration by her solicitor, Mr Scholes, that he could prove the vicar:

…had two bastard children by a girl called Mary Whitehead when he was a minister at Knock Holt, near Seven Oaks, in Kent, and that the girl was a Sunday scholar.

Prior to this hearing, anonymous letters had been sent to several local residents. These praised the virtues of Rev. Mathews, called Mary a common prostitute, claimed her mother Jane was never married (she produced her wedding certificate at this hearing), asserted all Jane’s sisters had lost their character and labelled the entire family as notorious. Witnesses testified the handwriting belonged to none other than the Rev. Matthews.

We have a further physical description of Mary given by Richard Green, superintendent of the Dewsbury district police. He said she was slight, at 5′ 1″ to 5′ 2″, and less than average strength. The vicar stood at 6′ 1″ or above.

Evidence on behalf of the vicar included children claiming he often gave them gifts by way of prizes at school. Some said this included the portrait of him as a young man…which Mary had chosen from a selection.

The proceedings closed on 24 October with the Commissioners declaring that sufficient prima facie grounds existed for further proceedings.

Yet again there had been one notable absentee from proceedings. Throughout the full hearing the Rev. Mathews, suspended from his duties at Hanging Heaton, failed to make any personal appearance to give his side of the story. His defence was subsequently given in the form of an open letter, published in The Leeds Intelligencer on 1 November 1851.

He said he had been compelled to keep back his evidence due to the further threats of action by Mary’s solicitor: basically he was wary of laying all his cards on the table. He denied all the charges, his natural kindness had been deliberately twisted by malign people. Throughout, his sole intention had been to protect Mary from inappropriate relationships and help her escape a life of sin and guilt, only to find himself duped. Mary was a friendless outcast in the parish, but he was determined to help her. He was never alone with her. He said he provided gifts, including clothing, not just to Mary, but to all the poorest children in school. She was not signalled out for special treatment. He also claimed the medicine he gave her was not to procure a miscarriage, but to treat her for scarlet fever which had also affected 30 other children in the parish. And some of these he visited more frequently than he did Mary. When, in September 1849, he was seized with the cholera outbreak prevalent in his parish, he gave her the note authorising the payment of £3 in the event of his death so that her mother could afford to place her in service, or some other suitable occupation. Similarly, the 4s 6d he gave her when she left for Denshaw Beck was because she professed to be penniless. He only reduced her lessons because he believed her to be ill with dropsy and wished to spare her any unnecessary exertion. And he continued to pay her because, as long as he could afford it, he never stopped paying salaries to those he employed, even when they were ill.

However, it failed to sway the church authorities. In March 1852 the Bishop of Ripon deprived the Rev. Stephen Mathews of the incumbency of Hanging Heaton for the “foul crime” of adultery with one of his parishioners, Mary Halliwell.

In June 1860, a couple of weeks after the death of Mary’s mother, the Bishop of Salisbury appointed the Rev. Mathews to the curacy of Zeals in Wiltshire. He died on 3 November 1868 at Saffron Walden.

Mary’s marriage to Emmanuel Halstead was registered in Dewsbury in the first quarter of 1866. The couple settled in Keighley. Their children included Jane, Alice Mary, Lillia, Samuel, Herbert Scargill and Sarah. Mary died on 13 January 1905. She is buried in Utley Cemetery, Keighley.

The case is not one I expected to discover locally, and in this period. The scandal and fall-out this shocking case must have caused in this small, close-knit community is unimaginable. The judicial advantage social standing or religious positions gives is nothing new. But looking at it from a purely factual standpoint, the thing that struck me above all else was the depth of social, historical and local information provided in the extensive reporting of this case – evidence not necessarily picked up elsewhere; information valuable even if your family is not among those named.

The parade of witnesses provide an insight into community relationships, occupations and employers. This includes details of women’s work such as washing and needlework, not necessarily shown in official records. It even includes the number of looms operated by individual families. There is information about when individual children began and ended their education. Physical descriptions are given too. We have corroborating evidence for Jane Scargill’s pre-civil registration marriage in another county. There are local features described such as the quarry, the tenter fields and the position of buildings in relation to others in the village. Disease outbreaks are identified. There is even reference to sleeping arrangements. Yes, the defendant’s solicitor may have used it to try to make some negative comment about Mary’s family – but was this representative of the realities of life for the poorest? And actually it resonates with the tale in my last blog post about my great grandma a century later – and she at one point lived in Hanging Heaton.

Yorkshire 232 Six Inch OS Map Extract, Surveyed 1847-1851, Published 1851. Adapted

The press reporting was eye-opening too, particularly the critical pieces such as appeared in The Huddersfield Chronicle. The reports point to Victorian sensibilities and long since gone language, with use of phrases such as ‘in the family way‘ or ‘enciente‘ and the distinctions made between ‘taking liberties‘ and ‘connexion‘. Yet, despite the tiptoeing around the sexual aspects, the condemnation of the verdicts, although couched, was unequivocal.

There are mentions of chip shops – but not our modern day understanding. This in the context of wood chips to light fires. There’s reference to a Mary visiting a planet reader in Leeds: a quaint term for a fortune teller.

And the contemporary descriptions of the day-to-day facilities and operation of this mid-19th century school are priceless. This includes information about the weekly attendance payment of 2d fixed due to the poverty of his parishioners, with this being insufficient to pay the salary of a master leading to the vicar personally training two female teachers. The monitorial system is described, with pupils being appointed as paid monitors with salaries dependent on age and experience. Their duties are described right down to cleaning and dusting the school and church after school and on Saturdays. There are even details about the school buildings (the quarry school was the one heavily featured in this tale), their fabric and furnishings.

In short it is a wonderful peak into the community.

For those with mid-nineteenth century Hanging Heaton ancestry I’ve included a list of those residents who gave evidence in the various cases and inquiries.

  • Thomas Albutt – Vicar, Dewsbury and rural dean of the district;
  • George Brearey – Clothier, Hanging Heaton, worked with Joseph Stansfield and occasionally Eliza Stansfield;
  • George Bromley – Clothier, Hanging Heaton;
  • Alfred Day – Hanging Heaton, 11;
  • Abraham Day – owned tenter field with two tenters. A tenter was a wooden frame on which cloth is stretched during the manufacturing process to retain its shape whilst drying;
  • Emma Day – Hanging Heaton;
  • Hephzibah Day – Former Sunday School Scholar and sister-in-law to Sarah. Age 22. Also the sister of Achsah, servant to the Mathews family in 1841;
  • Sarah Day – Wife of Henry Day, Manufacturer. Four children at Rev Mathews’ School
  • Sarah Jane Day – Hanging Heaton, 13;
  • George Gamble – Clothier, Hanging Heaton (some reports say Weaver, Batley). Employed by Abraham Day to tenter and teem;
  • Joseph Oldroyd Gill – confirmed school plan;
  • Richard Green – Superintendent of Police Dewsbury district;
  • Jane Halliwell – Widow, Soothill. Mother of Mary. Married Thomas in Prestwich. Did needlework for wife of George Dempster Miller;
  • Theophilius Hastings Ingham – Collector of Rates, Hanging Heaton. Brother-in-law of William Wainwright;
  • George Dempster Miller – Incumbent of Woodkirk;
  • Mary Mitchell – Chidswell, 11;
  • Charles Oldroyd – Weaver, Hanging Heaton;
  • Hannah Oldroyd – Hanging Heaton, sister of Charles;
  • Rachel Oldroyd – Earlsheaton, 14;
  • John Redfearn – Weaver, Hanging Heaton. Employed by Abraham Day to tenter and teem;
  • William Rhodes – Surgeon, Batley Carr;
  • Jane Richardson – Common Side, Hanging Heaton.15 last August. Went to Jane Halliwell for sewing instruction;
  • Hannah Rylah – Chidswell, 14 next New Year’s Day;
  • Benjamin Scargill – Shopkeeper, Chidswell, age about 60;
  • James Scargill – amongst those who attacked the Vicar, fined and bound over to keep the peace towards him. A James Scargill was nephew of Thomas;
  • Thomas Scargill – Stone Mason, Soothill. Uncle of Mary Halliwell;
  • Benjamin Shaw – Clothier, Shaw Cross;
  • Peter Senior – Clothier, Hanging Heaton. Employed by Abraham Day to tenter and teem;
  • Mary Spence – Husband of Joseph Spence, farmer. Daughter [in-law] of Rachel and living with her at Denshaw Beck. Washed for Rev Dempster Miller;
  • Rachel Spence – Widow, Denshaw Beck. Related to Jane and Mary Halliwell;
  • Eliza Stansfield – Hanging Heaton, wife of Joseph and occasionally worked with him and George Brearey;
  • Joseph Stansfield – Clothier, Hanging Heaton, works with George Brearey;
  • Mark Terry – Clothier, Chidswell;
  • Sarah Terry (Née Marshall) – Chidswell, former teacher, wife of Mark;
  • Esther Tolson – Teacher, Soothill, 24;
  • William Wainwright – organist, Sunday School teacher, carpenter who worked in uncle Charles Wainwright’s chip shop;
  • David Walker – son of sexton, John. Refused to attend Church Commissioners investigation unless expenses paid. Clothier, Shaw Cross. 26. A David Walker was among those who attacked the Vicar, fined and bound over to keep the peace towards him;
  • George Walker – among those who attacked the Vicar, fined and bound over to keep the peace towards him;
  • John Walker – Sexton, father of David. Refused to attend Commission unless transport provided to Dewsbury;
  • Thomas Ward – Rag Dealer, Hanging Heaton; and
  • Benjamin Wilson – no details.

Sources:

  • 1841-1901 censuses, accessed via Ancestry.co.uk and Findmypast;
  • Burial Registers: Holy and Undivided Trinity, Ossett cum Gawthorpe; Batley All Saints. Both accessed via Ancestry.co.uk;
  • Death Date and Burial of Mary Halstead (née Halliwell), via Find A Grave Ancestry.com. UK and Ireland, Find A Grave Index, 1300s-Current [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2012. Original data: Find A Grave. Find A Grave. http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi.
  • Baptism Registers: Ossett cum Gawthorpe; Woodkirk St Mary’s; Both accessed via Ancestry.co.uk;
  • British India Office Ecclesiastical Returns – Parish Register Transcripts from the Presidency of Bengal, accessed via Findmypast;
  • Marriage Registers: St James, Picaddilly, Westminster; Prestwich St. Mary’s. Both accessed via Ancestry.co.uk;
  • GRO indexes for marriage of Mary Halliwell, accessed via Findmypast;
  • England & Wales, National Probate Calendar (Index of Wills and Administrations), 1858-1995, entry for Stephen Britannicus Mathews, accessed via Ancestry.co.uk
  • Alumni Cantabrigienses, accessed via GoogleBooks;
  • OS Map Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland https://maps.nls.uk/index.html
  • Newspapers including: Carlisle Journal – 5 September 1851; The Huddersfield Chronicle – 20 September 1851, 27 September 1851; The Leeds Intelligencer – 2 August 1851, 30 August 1851, 18 October 1851, 25 October 1851, 1 November 1851; The Leeds Mercury – 6 March 1852; The Leeds Times – 30 August 1851, 20 September 1851, 25 October 1851; Liverpool Mercury – 2 September 1851. All accessed via Findmypast

My 1st One-Name Study Story: Edith Aveyard – Yorkshire Born And Bred

For me family history is more than a series of names and dates. I want to try paint a picture of my ancestors lives, their wider family network, the times in which they lived and the communities which shaped them. For many, records are the only way to build up this picture. For others their lives are still within living memory, either first hand or indirectly through others.

Edith Aveyard is my maternal great grandmother and the reason for my one-name study choice. I never met her, but through many hours talking to mum I do feel I have some sense of her character which goes beyond the records.

Born in East Ardsley in the West Riding of Yorkshire on 20 March 1879 she was one of the nine children of Wesleyan Methodist Abraham Aveyard and his wife Sarah Jane (née Broadhead). Her siblings included Peter (1873), Thomas Henry (1875), Bertha (1887), Amos Hartley (born 1881, died 1884), Paulina/Pauline (circa 1884), Eliza (1885), Caroline (1887) and John (1889). Abraham, a coal miner, spent several short spells between 1894 and 1908 in Wakefield Prison for debt.

Family census and various birth, baptism, death and burial records show that by March 1884 the family moved from East Ardsley to Morley. Sometime between May 1887 and March 1889 they shifted to Drighlington but by the mid-1890s they were back in Morley. All were coal-mining areas, so provided employment opportunities for Abraham and his eldest sons.

Edith married coal miner Jonathan Rhodes at Woodkirk Parish Church on 14 August 1897. They were both 18 years old. Edith did not sign her name in the register. Mum recalls that she could never write – yet she could read a horse-racing card well enough in the newspapers to enable her to put on a bet!

It was a marriage which did not meet with the approval of Jonathan’s parents, William Burnley Rhodes and Elizabeth. Mum has the impression they thought they were a ‘cut above’ Edith’s Aveyard family. Perhaps Edith’s father’s periods in jail were central to this belief. However, the marriage was one of necessity as Edith gave birth to a daughter, Alice, less than four months after the wedding.

The couple settled into married life and their home at Healey Croft Terrace, East Ardsley, near-neighbours of Edith’s brother Thomas Henry Aveyard. It was here the couple’s other children were born: Ethel (1899), Oliver (circa 1902), William Henry Bastow (circa 1903) and Pauline (1905).

But life was not without its difficulties. Jonathan was not a well man. A diabetic in the pre-insulin era, he was carrying out the physically demanding job of a coal hewer. And then tragedy hit. First youngest son William died at the Healey Croft Terrace home, on 4 June 1907, struck down by meningitis when only four-years-old. He was buried in the churchyard at East Ardsley St Michael’s two day’s later. Then, shortly after moving to Morley, the couple’s other son 8-year-old Oliver was killed on 8 October 1910 after being knocked down by a motor car on Britannia Road. It’s an incident which I wrote about here. He was buried alongside his brother on 11 October 1910.

By 1916 the family had left Morley and were living in Hanging Heaton. Daughter Alice married Willie Boynes in the Sunday school at Hanging Heaton on 16 April 1916. The school had been given a special licence to hold marriages by the Bishop of Wakefield.

The somewhat unusual venue was because the parish church of St Paul’s Church at Hanging Heaton was gutted by fire after a lightning strike in the early hours of 17 February 1916. Initially, given this was the midst of the Great War, the crowd watching the destruction of this landmark church, speculated that the cause was ‘German incendrianism.’

The Million Act church of St Paul’s, Hanging Heaton, was built originally between 1823-1825 as part of the church building programme sanctioned in the wake of Wellington’s 1815 victory over Napoleon at Waterloo. It was on a dominant hillside position, and the flames were visible for miles around. The High Street home of the Rhodes family was a matter of a few hundred metres away.

High Street, Hanging Heaton today. The old Number 67 where the family lived no longer exists. Photo by Jane Roberts

The fire was spotted at 4.10 am by Sam Pleasants. But, with only one telephone available in the vicinity of Hanging Heaton, summoning help was not straightforward. The Dewsbury Brigade received a call at 4.23am and, according to the Rev. W.E. Cleworth, they were working with the hose on the blaze before 5am (Batley News, 19 February 1916). The Dewsbury Reporter of the same date also stated:

Great praise was bestowed upon Dewsbury Fire Brigade for the very prompt manner in which they responded to the call and the general adaptability they displayed.

The Batley News report went onto say the Batley Brigade did not receive a request to assist until 5.15 am. This delay was criticised as being detrimental to efforts to save the church. The Leeds Mercury of 18 February in its report mentions the Dewsbury Brigade was speedily on the spot, but states Batley’s arrival was delayed for some time at the toll-bar gate at Grange Road. No mention of the problems being down to contacting them.

Later published accounts state that both the Batley and Dewsbury Fire Brigades were delayed in attending the conflagration. These too do not mention the lateness in getting the call through to Batley. Rather they say precisely because of the church’s steep hillside position, the horse-drawn engine from Batley could not access via the direct route up the hill. Instead it had to go via Grange Road where the Toll Keeper, when he eventually was roused from bed, argued about the toll for fire engines. The Dewsbury Brigade were held up because they could not enter the area without the permission of the delayed Batley Brigade. And when they were both finally in position, at the same time, initially they had no water.

Whatever happened with the Fire Brigades, the main point is the flames, fanned by a strong wind, took hold and the church was beyond saving. Its rebuilding was not authorised until 1920, and it was finally rededicated on 17 November 1923.

The vulnerability of the building to lightning strikes was highlighted just prior to the rededication. Building work completed, on Saturday 7 July 1923 it was once more struck by lightning. The top of one of the pinnacles was completely shattered, and a small fire broke out. Fortunately residents witnessed the event and acted swiftly. The blaze was quickly extinguished with buckets of water. This particular storm caused death and destruction across Yorkshire.

On a broader family history note, amongst the things salvaged from the 1916 inferno were the parish registers! One of the ‘rescuers’ of these precious documents was the verger, who also lived on High Street.

Interior of the destroyed Church of St Paul’s, Hanging Heaton

Despite the destruction, sightseers who flocked to view the ruins were allowed to enter the devastated building just over a week later. The Batley News of 26 February 1916 described:

…streams of humanity that flowed to the scene of the fire-wreckage was like unto the multitudes on the days of Lee Fair, [the country’s oldest chartered fair which dates from at least the early 12th century and is held at West Ardsley] a big football match or a big festival.

It is hard to imagine Edith and her family not being amongst these streams, given their proximity to the church. It was there nearest place of worship too, Edith clearly not adhering to her father’s Wesleyanism. She married in the Established Church, and her children were baptised in it.

In 1919 middle daughter Ethel married James Delaney, a Batley Catholic of Irish descent. Serving as a Gunner in the Royal Field Artillery, and latterly as a Sapper in the Royal Engineers, he was discharged from the Army in October 1918 no longer fit for service. He died in the East Lancashire Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Home at Park Lane, Kersal on 27 January 1928. One relative seems to think Ethel, who had nursed her husband, was so low in the aftermath of her husband’s death she could see no point in living. It was Edith who prevented her carrying through with her threat. I’ve found no evidence to back this up as yet. Perhaps I never will.

Once Ethel married, the only daughter remaining at home was Pauline. They were still in Hanging Heaton, but now at 20, Kirkgate. On 6 March 1921 she was by her father’s sickbed whilst her mother, Edith, briefly nipped out. It was whilst she was away that Jonathan died. His funeral took place at East Ardsley St Michael’s where he was laid to rest with his young sons on 9 March 1921.

Kirkgate, Hanging Heaton. Number 20 is now a modern house. These are the nearest old houses. Photo by Jane Roberts

Edith re-married on 25 February 1922. He husband was 38-year-old motor driver William Henry Ellis, a bachelor. Mum knew him as uncle a Bill. St Paul’s Hanging Heaton was not yet rebuilt, so the wedding took place in the Church Hall which had replaced the Sunday School as the building licensed to conduct services.

The Rebuilt Church of St Paul’s, Hanging Heaton. Photo by Jane Roberts

By 1939 bus driver Bill and Edith had moved to Upper Camroyd Street in the centre of Dewsbury. The location suited her perfectly. A stone’s throw from the huge market, and with access to a full array of shops, it was also near the pub where she could pop across to get a pitcher of beer to take home. Subsequently Edith moved a couple of streets away from Upper Camroyd Street to one of a pair of cottages in Battye Street.

It was the same town in which married daughter Pauline now lived with husband John, so mum has plenty memories about her broad Yorkshire-speaking grandma.

A diminutive woman, mum remembers her as being ‘a bit to a tartar‘ who would stand no nonsense from her grandchildren. She recalls a couple of examples. Her grandma had a horsehair settee. Mum, as a child in her short skirt, remembers sitting on it and the fibres pricking into her legs. Despite the discomfort she would sit rigid, as no way would her grandma allow any fidgeting. On another occasion Edith came to look after her grandchildren whilst Pauline and husband John were away. The children were not allowed to open any drawers in their own house!

Yet she was always more lenient with mum’s eldest brother, Jack. And when one of mum’s sisters married, she offered to partition her bedroom down the middle with a curtain so she could live there with her new husband. The offer was declined.

Mum’s other memories include when she first started work. Her job straight from school was at Luke Howgate’s in Dewsbury. The firm still exists today. It manufactures for the funeral trade and mum worked on simple soft furnishings for coffin interiors. She would pop in from work for a Friday fish and chips lunch with her grandma and uncle Bill. Edith was thrilled with her granddaughter’s new job and would ask endless questions about it, whilst imparting her considerable knowledge of the funeral trade. She spoke from personal experience. Besides informally helping bring babies into the world, she also was called upon to lay out the dead in the neighbourhood. She even had her own personal laying out drawer ready for her own death – and her grandchildren were not allowed to open this either!

Edith Aveyard

Uncle Bill died in 1956. Edith died at Staincliffe hospital on 24 October 1957 as a result of cerebral arterio sclerosis and old age. She was buried alongside her first husband, Jonathan, and sons William and Oliver in the unmarked East Ardsley grave.

Her Battye Street home as long since gone. The cottages were demolished. On the very spot where they stood is the Chapel of Rest for George Brooke’s, Funeral Directors. It somehow seems fitting.

Sources:

  • GRO Birth, Marriage & Death certificates – various;
  • Yorkshire Baptisms, Marriages & Burials via Ancestry.com Church of England Parish Register Collection. Original data at West Yorkshire Archives;
  • Abraham Aveyard, HMP Wakefield Records, via Ancestry.com. West Yorkshire, England, Prison Records, 1801-1914 [database on-line]. Original data at West Yorkshire Prison Records. Reference C118: Wakefield Prison. West Yorkshire Archive Service, Wakefield, England;
  • Censuses 1881 to 1911 accessed via Ancestry.co.uk and FindMyPast;
  • 1939 Register accessed via Ancestry.co.uk and FindMyPast;
  • Newspapers as indicated;
  • Pauline Hill’s recollections – conversations with Jane Roberts, February 2019;
  • St Paul’s Hanging Heaton website: http://www.stpaulch.co.uk/;
  • OS Maps – National Library of Scotland;
  • East Ardsley St Michael’s MI booklet – Morley Family History Group;
  • James Delaney, WO 363 War Office Soldiers’ Documents, First World War ‘Burnt’ Documents accessed via FindMyPast. Originals at The National Archives, Reference WO 363/D972.

The Confessions of a Blogger: Review of 2018

I’ll start with an admission: My 2018 blogging year was not as prolific as usual. In fact it was nowhere near the efforts of previous years. But I’m far from downhearted. In fact I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it and I hope you have too.

Here are the details.

The Statistics. My blog saw a noticeable decline in output, with 25 posts during the year, down from 33 in 2017 and in excess of 60 in 2016. This was entirely due to other commitments such as completing my genealogy studies and publishing a book. Neither was it unexpected – I did forecast this in my 2017 blogging review post. And it is pretty much in line with what I promised: two posts a month.

However onto the positives. Despite the downturn in posts, my blog has grown from strength to strength numerically. Views increased from 20,649 in 2017 to well in excess of 21,000 in 2018. Thank you to all those who have taken the trouble to read my random family and local history outpourings.

My blog has now well and truly developed its character with core themes of my family history, interspersed with local history tales from Yorkshire, alongside news from – and my musings on – the genealogy world’s latest developments.

Most Popular Times? Monday proved my most popular blogging day, with 21% of views. And my golden hour shifted to the slightly earlier time of 6 pm. I suspect this shift is as much a result my blog posting times as anything more profound.

How Did They Find You? Search Engines took over as the key engagement route accounting for around 7,000 views.

Where Did They Come From? The global reach of WordPress never fails to amaze me. Going on for 100 countries are represented in my list of views. The UK accounted for well over 10,000 of these which was almost double the number of my next most popular country, the United States. Australia came third with over 1,000. But all corners of the globe feature with readers extending to Cambodia, Tonga, Peru and Tunisia. A huge thank you to you all! You’re what makes it worthwhile researching and writing these posts.

And it’s fantastic to receive so many comments either indirectly via Facebook and Twitter, or directly on my blog site. They’ve added new information, context and connections. Thank you for getting in touch.

Top Five Posts of 2018: Other than general home pages, archives and my ‘about’ page, these were:

General Register Office (GRO) Index – New & Free. This was actually posted in 2016 but, as in 2017, it continued to perform well in 2018 . This post was about a new free source for searching the GRO birth and death indexes (note not marriages) for certain years, one which gives additional search options. It also covered the initial £6 PDF trial, an alternative and cheaper source than buying a birth or death certificate. Note the PDF option, a copy of the register entry rather than a certificate, still continues. However the cost will rise to £7 on 16 February 2019. The cost of a certificate increases from £9.25 to £11.

Living DNA: I’m Not Who I Thought I Was. This was another 2017 post which continued to prove popular. It is testimony to the importance with which genetic genealogy is now seen. lt dealt with my shocking DNA results. I’m 100% from Great Britain and Ireland. No drama there. But it indicated that I’m not entirely the Yorkshire lass I thought – the ethnicity pointed to some genetic material from the dark side of the Pennines. I reckon this could be linked to a potential 5x great grandmother from Colne. I really do need to push on with my Abraham Marshall New Year’s Resolution.

Cold Case: The Huddersfield Tub Murder. Yet another 2017 offering, and in last year’s “one that got away” category as being one of my favourite posts which failed to reach the Top 5 that year. Well it proved immensely popular in 2018. It dealt with the unsolved murder in Huddersfield of a Dewsbury woman of ‘ill-repute’ whose tragic life and abusive relationships ultimately resulted in her death.

“Historical Vandalism” as more Archive Services Come Under Threat. Published in December 2018 its appearance in the Top 5 for the year shows the importance with which any threat to these vital services are seen. It covered some recent swingeing funding cuts to archives and corresponding proposed (and actual) major reductions to these services across the country. Some of the consultations, Surrey (4 January 2019) and Kent (29 January 2019), close imminently. So I would urge you to have your say.

Tripe Tales – Food Nostalgia. My childhood memories of food led me to focus on this particular northern ‘delicacy’, which was very popular when I was growing up. It covered some early 20th century local tripe stories including theft, death and prodigious eating feats, as well as recipes to try. I was also inundated via social media with suggestions of where I could still buy it. I’ve yet to confront once more this culinary challenge.

So yet again this was a mixed bag of popular posts, ranging from topical family history issues, to DNA and general history and local history tales – which sums up my blog perfectly.

The Ones that Got Away: These are a few of my favourite posts which didn’t make the top five:

Fur Coats Can Prevent Flu – The 1918/19 Pandemic looked at how to use various information sources to build up a picture of the impact of the Spanish Flu “plague” on local communities. In my example I focused on Batley.

How the Western Front Association WW1 Pension Ledgers May Have Solved another Family History Mystery. I used this newly available online record source to prove a family tale and discover more about my great uncle.

Irish DNA Breakthrough and Don’t it Make My Brown Eyes Blue covered how DNA led to the demolition of one of my family history brick walls and helped me find out more about two of my Irish grandpa’s sisters who emigrated to the United States.

A Family Historian on Holiday: A Whitby Cemetery and WW1 Shipwreck was about the sinking of the Hospital Ship Rohilla off the Whitby coast in 1914. With links to the Titanic, heroic rescue attempts and a disputed will it illustrates how a family and local historian is never off duty, even on holiday!

Finally there was Published: The Greatest Sacrifice – Fallen Heroes of The Northern Union. This marked my greatest achievement of 2018 and the culmination of around two years’ work, the publication of my book co-authored with husband Chris. It has been described as the definitive book about those Rugby League players who fell in the Great War.

What Does 2019 Promise? Well, as in 2018, I aim to do two posts a month. These will be on the same type of themes as usual – family and local history tales, plus topical genealogy offerings when anything big hits the headlines. I will also be including some Aveyard One-Name Study stories.

I anticipate my major challenge this coming year, as ever, will be time. I also have the added concern of keeping things fresh and relevant. I now have two other writing roles to add to my blog. At the end of 2018 I took on the role of editor as the Huddersfield and District Family History Society quarterly Journal, the first edition of which came out in January. And I now write a regular family history column in Yorkshire nostalgia magazine “Down Your Way.” So clearly I want to ensure my blog posts are separate and distinct from my other writing commitments. However, my head is buzzing with ideas so I don’t think that will be too much of a creative dilemma.

But whatever direction my blogging year takes, thank you for reading, engaging and supporting.

Wishing you a happy, peaceful 2019 filled with family history fun!

Tripe Tales – Food Nostalgia

Food can evoke so many strong memories of childhood. Pie and peas and I’m back to the excitement of bonfire night. Mum’s sherry trifle and it’s family Christmas parties when I’d always try to sneak a double helping of the top two layers of thick, yellow, sliceable custard heaped with cream; spaghetti bolognaise and I recall the first meal I cooked for mum and dad. Dad hated it as he couldn’t get to grips with the spaghetti, and he couldn’t make a sandwich from it. Whereas our dog craned his head upwards to suck in the sauce-coated strands; the tang of salt and vinegar doused fish and chips and I’m transported to carrying home the piping hot, greasy, newspaper-packaged taste of heaven from Cudworths, the local chippy. Fish and chips twice, a fish and a cake. For a treat as kids we’d sit on the back doorstep, abandon cutlery and eat the chips with just our fingers straight from their newspaper wrapping. The ultimate finger food.

And then there’s tripe. Yes, utterly unique tripe. Slimy, white, rubbery, incomparable. We’d have it cold with salt and vinegar. Lots of vinegar in my case to try make it halfway palatable. It didn’t work. If fish and chips were heaven, this evil stuff was pure hell. I’d chew and chew and chew, scarcely able to swallow the offensive gobbet. The texture lingers in my mind to this day and, even now, recalling it I shudder.

Tripe at Cross’s Pork Butchers, Dewsbury Market – Photo by Jane Roberts

The name of the ‘cut,’ depended on which chamber of the animal’s stomach it came from. Think about it. How repulsive does that sound? Honeycomb is the thing I remember, along with blanket. We’d also occasionally have it with an equally noxious substance called elder, (cow’s udder, I believe). It was the stuff of nightmares.

An article in the Leeds Mercury of 3 June 1913, confirmed my fears about its deadly capacities:

CHOKED BY TRIPE
AGED BATLEY MAN’S DEATH IN STREET

The sudden death, under remarkable circumstances, of Alexander Richardson, seventy-four years of age, of Old Mill-Lane, Batley, who has followed the occupation of a Cooper, was enquired into by Mr. P. P. Maitland yesterday.

On Saturday night Richardson was proceeding along Henrietta-street eating tripe, when he suddenly collapsed and died. A post-mortem examination revealed that a piece of tripe, three inches square, was blocking the entrance to the wind-pipe, causing suffocation.

A verdict of “Accidentally choked” was returned.

Yet, perhaps I am maligning it. Tripe dresser is an occupation you may come across in your family history. This worker was engaged in preparing the product for ‘human consumption’. A quick 1911 census search using ‘tripe dresser’ reveals over 1,500 of them – seven in Batley alone. Tripe stalls abounded, selling this bleached-white cows stomach lining.

And in Batley a boy was even driven to crime to get money to buy this tasty treat, as reported in the Batley News of 13 March 1915.

STOLE MONEY TO BUY BANANAS, TRIPE, ETC. – In the Juvenile Court a boy of 12 admitted obtaining 1s. 6d. by false pretences from Thomas Sykes, hay and straw dealer, Old Mill Lane, Bankfoot, and with stealing a white metal watch, worth 3s. 6d., from the house of Mr. Wilfrid Haigh, 9, Bankfoot, Batley. The boy obtained the money under the pretence it was for someone Mr. Sykes knew. Defendant stole the watch last November. He told the Magistrates he went to the pictures and bought bananas and tripe with the money. Inspector Riplet said the boy had kept company with a lad who was last week sent to a reformatory. Bound over, under the probation of Mr Gladwin.

Others swore by its health-giving properties. Like Dewsbury man John Carter Garforth who ate a stone of tripe every week, attributing his longevity to it. As reported in the Yorkshire Evening Post of 21 September 1951:

TRIP WITHOUT TRIPE

Dewsbury firm’s Grand Old Man off to London without his parcel

When 1,000 employees of the Dewsbury firm Wormalds and Walker, Ltd., [blanket manufacturers] leave for a trip to London next week, the grand old man of the firm will go with them – for the first time without a stone of tripe wrapped in a parcel under his arm.

He is 81-year-old John Carter Garforth, who has been employed by this woollen firm for 70 years. He still does a full day’s work and has two great loves – tripe and his piano. “I eat a stone of tripe a week,” he told me, “and I’m the best customer of a tripe shop in Dewsbury.”

“Twice a year I go to London to see my daughter, but I always take a parcel of tripe. They’ve no idea how to cook tripe there so I take my own.”

I asked him why he wasn’t taking any with the trip next week, “Well, it’s only a day, so I’ll do without and have a double ration when I come back,” he said

Mr Garforth’s recipe for long life? “Plenty of tripe, an occasional smoke and no drink. I’m 81 and I get plenty of fun out of life still following that recipe.”

Mr Garforth

It was also lauded in the 1907 edition of Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management as “the most digestible of meats, and specially suited for invalids”.

The “Diabetic Foods” section included a recipe for tripe soup, reproduced here for those who wish to try it.

Ingredients: ½ a lb. of tripe, 1 pint of milk, 1 pint of stock or water, 1 small onion, 1 clove, 1 oz. of butter, ½ an oz. of flour, salt and pepper.

Method: Wash the tripe, blend and drain it, and cook it in the milk and stock or water, with the onion and clove, for an hour or till tender, then mince the tripe finely and add it to the broth. Melt the butter, stir in the flour, dilute with 1 gill of milk, stir till it boils and add to the soup. Boil for 10 minutes longer, season slightly and serve.

Time. 1½ hours. Average Cost, 7d. or 8d.

This recipe is of particular interest to me. In these pre-insulin days, was this the type of dish my diabetic great grandfather Jonathan Rhodes ate?

But more than invalid food, tripe was also regarded as a cheap, nutritious meal for the working classes. Tripe and onions was probably the signature dish. Again, if you want to give it a go here’s the recipe from the same Mrs Beeton’s 1907 book:

Ingredients. 2 lb. of dressed tripe, 2 large onions, ½ a pint of milk, ½ a pint of water, 1 tablespoon of flour, 1 teaspoonful of salt and pepper.

Method. Cut the tripe into 3 inch squares; put them into a stew pan, cover with cold water, bring to boiling point, and strain. Replace the tripe, add the milk, water and salt, boil up, put in the thinly-sliced onions, and simmer for 3 hours. 20 minutes before serving have the flour mixed smoothly with a little milk, pour into the stew pan, stir until boiling, and simmer for 15 minutes. Season to taste and serve.

Time. About 3½ hours. Average Cost, 1s. 8d. Sufficient for 4 or 5 persons.

You could even utilise the discarded water in which tripe was boiled. In Beeton’s Housewife’s Treasury of Domestic Information, a companion tome to Mrs Beeton’s Household Management, there is a section entitled ‘Children and what to do with them.’ Among the pearls of wisdom it contains advice about ‘eruptions,’ saying they

….will frequently appear on the child’s face, and sometimes sores, or what is termed to use a homely phrase “a breaking out.”……….and the water in which tripe has been boiled is a safe and reliable wash for them.”

What unimaginable horror. As if the ignominy of a spot-covered face wasn’t enough, but then being forced to eat boiled tripe and wash in the discarded water as a punishment ….sorry remedy. Yuk.

Your taste does evolve over time and things you didn’t like as a child you may come to love as an adult. Yoghurt is my case in point. As a three-year-old, and egged on by an older child, I peeled the top off a doorstep yoghurt delivery of a neighbour and dipped my finger in to taste it. It was vile. How could adults eat this? I promptly disposed of my ill-gotten gains in a puddle in the end between the two rows of terraced houses. It’s probably one of my earliest memories. Especially as Mrs Kirby discovered the crime and confronted me with it. Now I love yoghurt.

However, I accidentally discovered my hatred of tripe is not an example of this phenomenon. In Brittany on holiday a few years ago I decided to try a local speciality – galettes à l’andouille et aux champignons. I hadn’t a clue what andouille was. Suffice it to say it was like eating vomit. One mouthful was enough. To use a Yorkshire term, I was reduced to gipping (for those not from ‘God’s Own County’ that’s the dialect term for retching). I discovered later andouille is a tripe sausage. Another food memory etched on my mind and a delicacy forever struck off from future holiday meals.

However, if I am tempted to buy tripe it is available far closer to home – at Cross’s Pork Butchers stall on Dewsbury market. I bottled buying some today, sticking with potted beef. But maybe I’ll give it one more go using Mrs Beeton’s Fricassée of Tripe recipe for that continental feel.

Triplets and Two Sets of Twins – Combining Newspapers and Parish Registers

In 1834 Susan Gibson (née Rylah) made the news across England. The Leeds Times of 20 October 1834 typified reporting when it wrote:

RARE NEWS FOR MALTHUS!! – A woman named Susan Gibson, of Earlsheaton, was brought to bed of three children on Wednesday last, who with mother are all doing well – she has born twins twice before.

The children, Joseph, Rachel and Leah, arrived in the world on 17 September 1834. Their father was clothier Thomas Gibson. Soothill was the family abode given in the parish register, though Susan (sometimes referred to as Susy or Susannah) was born in Earlsheaton and the family did eventually move there.

The infant newsmakers were baptised at All Saints Dewsbury Parish Church on 12 October 1834, along with December 1831-born sister, Elizabeth. This was the same church in which their parents married on 22 July 1821.

‘Triplets, shown in the uterus: illustration showing the position of the foetuses in a plural position. Colour lithograph, 1850/1910?’ . Credit: Wellcome Collection. CC BY

The headline’s Malthus referred to the influential, but controversial, English economist Thomas Malthus. His population growth theories centred round the argument that increases in population would diminish the ability of the world to feed itself and there would be insufficient land for crops. Citing Malthus was a recurring theme in reporting unusual birth stories during this period.

Interestingly, at the same time as the press reported the birth of the Gibson trio, they were also reporting the birth of Bridlington’s Thompson triplets. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were the sons of Bridlington Quay stone mason Robert Thompson and his wife Ann. They were described as being ‘all well and likely to live’. The Bridlington St Mary (Priory) parish register recorded the baptism of Robert Thompson’s ‘thrine sons‘ on 22 September 1834, all under the same entry (No 649) in the baptism register, rather than under their own individual entries.

Neither set of triplets added to the population pressure though. Despite the hopeful press outlook at the time of their birth they all failed to thrive. The Thompson trio lingered longest. Jacob was buried on 16 November 1834; Abraham 22 January 1835; and finally Isaac on 17 March 1835.

The demise of the Gibson babies was far swifter. Less than three weeks after their baptism all were dead. A 12-day period in late October/early November 1834 saw a series of Gibson funerals at the parish church. Rachael (as her name was recorded in the burial register) was buried first, on 26 October. Before the month was out Leah died too, her burial taking place on 31 October. The final triplet, Joseph, was interred on 6 November.

As it is pre-July 1837, there is no civil registration. We’re relying on parish registers, and it is not possible from these entries to identify the earlier sets of twins born to Susan. Birth dates are an exception in the baptism register. It’s usually just a baptism date which is given. And, as indicated when the triplets were baptised alongside their almost three-year-old sister, the family were not always prompt in initiating their offspring into the church. It appears some of the Gibson children died before baptism. But burials are inconclusive too. These give father’s name – but there are three clothiers named Thomas Gibson in the Soothill area to muddy the burial entries. And some of the entries simply indicate S.B.C. (abbreviation for stillborn child) or an unbaptized [sic] child with the name of a parent (father, unless illegitimate). So without the newspaper reports we may never have known about Susan’s tendency towards multiple births.

The census provides no clues. In 1841 the family lived at Town Green, Soothill and in addition to Thomas and Susan the household includes Sarah (20), Martha (15), Elizabeth (9), Jane (5), William (3) and Ann (1) – but bear in mind the age of those over 15 was supposed to be rounded down to the nearest multiple of five, and relationship details are absent in this census. However it is clear there are no common ages.

Similarly the 1851 census has no indication of multiple births either. In terms of the couple’s children, Jane (15), William (incorrectly entered as 18 – he was born in 1837) and Ellen (9) are recorded. However, it appears from the GRO Birth Indexes that Ellen was a twin too. Her birth is registered in the same quarter at Dewsbury as an Eliza Gibson, mother’s maiden name Rylah.

Eliza Gibson’s burial is recorded on 21 February 1842 at Dewsbury All Saints, father Thomas.

And Susan Gibson comes nowhere near earning the accolade of most prolific mother ever. That dubious honour goes to the wife of a Russian peasant, as detailed by Guinness World Records:

The greatest officially recorded number of children born to one mother is 69, to the wife of Feodor Vassilyev (b. 1707–c.1782), a peasant from Shuya, Russia. In 27 confinements she gave birth to 16 pairs of twins, seven sets of triplets and four sets of quadruplets

Sources:

  • Leeds Times. 20 October 1834 via FindMyPast
  • John Bull. 13 October 1834 via FindMyPast
  • Dewsbury All Saints Baptism Register. West Yorkshire Archive Service, Reference WDP9/11, via Ancestry.co.uk
  • Dewsbury All Saints Burial Register. West Yorkshire Archive Service, Reference WDP9/50, via Ancestry.co.uk
  • Ibid, Reference WDP9/51
  • Dewsbury All Saints Marriage Register. West Yorkshire Archive Service, Reference WDP9/21, via Ancestry.co.uk
  • Bridlington St Mary (Priory), Parish Register of Baptisms 1830-1847. East Riding Archives and Local Studies Service, Reference PE153/11
  • Bridlington St Mary (Priory), Parish Register of Baptisms 1813-1838. East Riding Archives and Local Studies Service, Reference PE153/38
  • 1841 Census. TNA, Reference HO107/1268/14/7/7, via Ancestry.co.uk
  • 1851 Census. TNA. Reference HO107/2325/133/11, via Ancestry.co.uk
  • GRO Birth Indexes, William Gibson. December Quarter 1837, Dewsbury, Vol 22, Page 52 via the General Register Office website, https://www.gro.gov.uk/gro/content/certificates/
  • GRO Birth Indexes, Ellen and Eliza Gibson. March Quarter 1842, Dewsbury, Vol 22, Page 55 via the General Register Office Website, https://www.gro.gov.uk/gro/content/certificates/
  • Most Prolific Mother Ever. Guinness World Records. http://www.guinnessworldrecords.com/world-records/most-prolific-mother-ever

All websites accessed 26 September 2018

Churching, Mortuaries and Baptism Fees: A Woodkirk Terrier

A series of five terriers dating between July 1770 and 1825 for the Parish of Woodkirk in West Ardsley provided a fascinating peek into the the the fees charged for various parish services. Terriers were a form of inventory drawn up for Bishop’s visitations. They provide detail about the funding of the benefice ranging from church-owned lands, fabric and furnishings (in Woodkirk’s case invariably described as handsome) to tithes, fees and customary payments. I was particularly interested in the latter two as I wanted to know what my Woodkirk parish ancestors paid to get married, baptised and buried.

St Mary’s Church, Woodkirk – by Jane Roberts

Surplice fees payable to the incumbent for various services and ceremonies performed were as follows:

  • A Marriage by Publication: Two shillings;
  • A Marriage by Licence: Ten shillings;
  • A Certificate of Publication of Banns: Six pence if the man lives in the Parish, but if the woman lives in the Parish two shillings and six pence;
  • A Churching: Eight pence;
  • A Funeral: Eight pence;
  • A Certificate from the Register: One shilling; and
  • A Mortuary: Ten shillings when a person is worth 40 pounds, when a person is worth 30 pounds six shillings and Eight pence, when a person dies worth 10 pounds three shillings and four pence

These fees were constant throughout. The only change was an increase from six pence to one shilling in the 22 June 1825 terrier for certificate of publication of banns if the man lived in the parish.

Fees payable to the Parish Clerk were:

  • Easter: Each house two pence, each plough four pence;
  • A Marriage by Publication: one shilling;
  • A Marriage by Licence: Five shillings;
  • A Churching: Four pence;
  • A Publication by Banns: One shilling;
  • A Funeral: Eight pence;
  • Searching the Register: Four pence; and
  • The Churchwardens for the time being annually pay one pound to the Parish Clerk.

Mortuaries were a hang-over from feudal times. The Lord of the Manor had the right to chose the best beast of a deceased tenant. This payment was known as a heriot. The vicar was able to choose the second best beast (or comparable possession) to compensate for any personal tithes the deceased failed to pay when alive. This payment was called a mortuary. Payment of mortuaries were very unpopular and in 1529 a Statute restricted their use with the value fixed, based on the wealth of the deceased, as set out in the Woodkirk terriers. Parishes which did not have this custom could not introduce the fee. It all had the effect of reducing opposition to them because the poor were exempt and, with the passage of time, the set value of them meant their real terms worth declined.

No fee for baptism is mentioned in the Woodkirk terrier. However other parishes did seem to have them. But such fees were a controversial issue. Although slightly later than the Woodkirk terrier, an 1841 extract from The British Magazine and Monthly Register of Religious and Ecclesiastical Information Vol 19 discussing baptisms in London illustrates the concerns:

…..Of it’s illegality there can be no doubt. No fee, it is well understood, is payable for the administration of a sacrament, and the flimsy pretext that it is due for registering the baptism, is at once destroyed by the words of an act of parliament, which do not leave the clergyman who administers the sacrament of baptism an option in the matter, as he is bound to register the names of all whom he baptises.

I would therefore most respectfully call the attention of the incumbents of London parishes, and of those in the immediate neighbourhood, to the fact they are, by demanding a fee for baptism, guilty of an illegal act, and an act highly injurious to the spiritual welfare of their parishioners…….

Your correspondent, “A Curate,” states the fee to be 1s. 6d. In many city parishes it is 2s. 6d., and I have even heard, still more.

And it is clear the controversial charges applied beyond London. As the Leeds Times of 5 October 1844 reported:

THE BAPTISMAL FEE – The Bishop of Ripon, in his charge to the clergy of his dioceses a few days since, declared that demanding of a fee on baptism was illegal. His lordship added, “The practice, perhaps, originated in the performance of the office for Churching of the woman at the period of the admission of the child into the Church of Christ; and the fee lawfully due for the former. And at first clearly miscalled the baptismal fee, has afterwards been demanded where the parent did not present herself to return thanks for her safe delivery.”

Ripon Diocese, formed in 1836, from Yorkshire part of Archdeaconry of Richmond (formerly Diocese of Chester) and part of Diocese of York, covered Woodkirk. Churching, which did appear in the earlier Woodkirk terriers, was a purification ritual for a women after childbirth, giving thanks for her recovery, cleansing her from the stain of childbirth and marking her re-entry to the church. Although a distinct ceremony it is easy to see how it could be conflated with a baptism fee.

Baptisms did at one point incur a state charge though, and the period covered by the Woodkirk terriers coincided with it. This was the highly unpopular Stamp Duty Act of 1783 which remained in force until 1794. Paupers were exempt, but for all others a duty of 3d was levied on each baptism, marriage and burial recorded in the parish register. I have not undertaken a comparative check on the Woodkirk register, but countrywide the number of pauper entries in registers increased and, in the case of baptisms, some parents waited until the tax ended before having children baptised. There was also an earlier Marriage Duty Act of 1695, repealed in 1706, which similarly imposed a sliding scale tax on on births (using parish register baptisms as a proxy), marriages and burials.

But as for church imposed fees, the controversy of baptisms continued to rumble in the 19th century until the Baptismal Fees Abolition Act of 1872. This Act made it unlawful to demand any

Fee or Reward for the Celebration of the Sacrament of Baptism, or the Registry thereof.

It stated:

That from and after the passing of this Act, it shall not be lawful for the minister, clerk in orders, parish clerk, vestry clerk, warden, or any other person to demand any fee or reward for the celebration of the sacrament of baptism, or for the registry thereof: Provided always, that this Act shall not apply to the present holder of any office who may at the present time be entitled by any Act of Parliament to demand such fees.

The Family History Show – York 2018

As part of my 2018 New Year’s Resolutions I set myself a pleasant task to attend a variety of Family History events. The Family History Show at York Racecourse was high on my ‘must-do‘ list, as it’s around three years since my last visit. It did not disappoint.

Organised by Discover Your Ancestors Magazine and sponsored by S&N Genealogy Supplies and The Genealogist.co.uk, it has dropped “Yorkshire” from its title of years gone by. This is a reflection that, although having a distinct Yorkshire flavour, those present represent a far wider geographical spread than “God’s Own County“.

Family history societies from as far afield as Shropshire, Clwyd, Cumbria and Aberdeen were there alongside a broad cross-section of those from Yorkshire. I took the opportunity to renew my lapsed Morley Family History Group membership, as well as chatting with those on the Huddersfield & District Family History Society, Bradford Family History Society and Northumberland and Durham Family History Society stands to name but a few.

But the show goes way beyond the traditional family history societies, and includes archives, genealogy education providers, family history product suppliers, as well as book and map sellers. There are also professional organisations such as The Register of Qualified Genealogists and the Association of Genealogists and Researchers in Archives (AGRA) the latter of which I am an Associate and, as a result, I did a stint on their stand.

In this Armistice Centenary Anniversary year military exhibitors were understandably highly visible, including researchers, the Imperial War Museum (Lives of the First World War) and York Army Museum. To my delight representatives from the Green Howards Museum were there promoting their Ribbon of Remembrance Project. It was fabulous to see their exhibits, including original 1911 Militia and Volunteer registers which left me wondering what became of those named. On the other hand my husband, in trying on a 1908 German Pickelhaube, demonstrated the increased head sizes a century on. This is something I experienced in a previous job a couple of decades ago with bearskins – the frames of previous eras needed stretching to fit the heads of late 20th century guardsmen.

But the highlight of my Green Howards visit was talking about one of my Rugby League men and discovering a new photograph of him which the Museum have given me permission to use in my forthcoming book.

The MoD were there too. At the final Who Do You Think You Are? Live last year there was the hint of an imminent announcement about post-1921 Army records, with my hope this might mean digitisation in some form. I asked today and apparently this is facing obstacles which have slowed down progress, with legal issues (presumably Data Protection) playing a part. So we could be waiting a few more years yet before news on this front.

The show also featured some free talks, which I didn’t get the chance to go to because I was far too busy catching up with people. For me the opportunity to chat to folk who share my passion for family history is a now central part of attending these events.

One notable family history absentee given the current sales pitch was DNA. If it was being promoted I failed to spot it. A full list of exhibitors is here.

As per my 2015 visit findings, the show wasn’t on the huge scale of my first visit many years ago when the stands spread over several floors, including big hitters such as Ancestry and FindMyPast, and you were cheek to jowl with eager attendees. Perhaps that’s a sign of the changing times of family history research whereby the false assumption is that everything is online and there’s no value in anything beyond your keyboard, which means attendance at fairs has correspondingly declined.

However it did mean today’s offering was far more relaxed. It meant you really had the opportunity to have unpressurised conversations and find out as much as possible from exhibitors, learn what is out there and get involved in the genealogy community generally. And in my stint on a stand I certainly appreciated being able to devote full attention to those seeking information. But don’t get me wrong, there was still a steady stream of people.

I did make purchases too, including an inevitable book. No longer content with genealogical facts, I opted for a bit of family history fiction – of which any of us bitten by this bug will have frustrating experience of. But this time mine was in the form of a Nathan Dylan GoodwinForensic Genealogist” series book – so an escape from research. Now to find time to read it!

The Rohilla Privileged Will Dispute

What may seem a straightforward document can be far more contentious than first appearances suggest. This proved the case with the will of a man who perished in the wreck of the Hospital Ship Rohilla in October 1914. It led to the High Court.

William Edward Anderson was one of the 15 Barnoldswick St John Ambulance Brigade men on board, serving as part of the Royal Naval Sick Berth Reserve. Only three of these men came home.

Born in the then West Yorkshire town on 11 February 1891, he was the eldest child of Carleton-born cotton weaver Ralph Anderson and his wife Jane Elizabeth Wakefield, originally from Coventry. The couple married on 18 October 1890 in the parish church of St Mary le Gill, Barnoldswick. Their other children included Sarah, Walter, Florrie, George, Mary Ann and Ernest. An eighth child, Jane, died in 1905 aged three.

Like his father, William became a cotton weaver, cotton being the town’s predominant industry. His naval records describe him as being 5’6″ with light brown hair, blue eyes and a fresh complexion.

William Edward Anderson

William was engaged to Edith Eliza Priscilla Downes. The daughter of joiner and builder James Downes and his wife Elizabeth, she was born on 22 July 1891 at Morton Banks near Keighley, and baptised St Mary’s Church, Riddlesden in September that year. The family address in the baptismal register was given as Barley-Cote, Riddlesden. Sometime between the 1901 and 1911 censuses the Downes family moved to Barnoldswick. In the latter census they were living at Gisburn Street and Edith had employment as a cotton spinner.

On 2 August 1914 John William Thompson, superintendent of the Barnoldswick Division of the St John Ambulance Brigade, received a telegram ordering the mobilisation of men, including William, in advance of any war declaration. The Brigade was a voluntary movement which the Army and Navy used as a recruitment source. It’s members knew they were liable to be called up for military service. Thompson contacted William and told him to hold himself in readiness. He was ordered to catch the 3 August 12.08pm train from Barnoldswick to Chatham.

3 August was Bank Holiday Monday. That morning, after finishing packing his kit at his family home alongside Edith, he made a soldier’s will leaving everything to his fiancée. He placed the will in an envelope with instructions for it to be opened one month after his death. He wanted Edith to take it for safe-keeping but she refused so he put it in a drawer saying to Edith “No one knows where this is, only you.” The will was made at 11am, just over an hour before his departure. Once he left Edith never saw him again.

William’s naval record shows him as a Senior Reserve Attendant, under Service Number M/10066, assigned to Pembroke I from 2 – 17 August 1914. This was the shore-based Royal Naval barracks at Chatham. From 18 August 1914 he was with the Rohilla. When she struck the rocks off Saltwick Nab it appears he was one of those who made it to the bridge, but subsequently lost his life attempting to swim to shore. His body was never recovered. He is commemorated in a number of locations including on the Chatham Naval Memorial, the Rohilla Memorial in Whitby’s Larpool Cemetery and on the Barnoldswick War Memorial.

His naval record includes the notation:

Papers dealing with an action in the High Court relating to this man’s will.

The case of Anderson v Downes was heard in the Probate Court in January 1916 before Mr Justice Bargrave Deane. The plaintiff Ralph Anderson, represented by Mr W.O. Willis, claimed his son had died intestate and he sought administration, being next-of-kin and heir-at-law. The defendant Miss Edith Downes, represented by Mr Pridham-Wippell and Mr Acton Pile denied this and counter-claimed William had made his last true will on 3 August 1914, it being made in accordance with the Section 11 of the 1837 Statute, namely William had been actively engaged in the service of the Crown on military and/or naval duties. In response Ralph claimed the will had not been executed according to the Statute.

Edith Downes

Those serving in the military had, for centuries, held a unique position in Probate law being entitled to make what was known as a Privileged Will. In 1914, Section 11 of the Wills Act 1837 specifically stated “that any soldier being in actual military service, or any mariner or seaman at sea, may dispose of his personal estate” without restrictions applicable to other wills. It meant they could dispose moveable goods, money, credits and leases without the restrictions which normally applied – the testator could be under 21, there was no need for witnesses to attest, for the testator’s signature, or even for it to be in writing. These privileges were conferred because of the unique nature of their employment. They could face the imminent danger if death; also because they were on service they may not have the same access to legal services as a civilian so would have less opportunity to make a properly executed will; and minors served in the armed forces.

The case of Anderson v Downes honed in on the key phrase “any mariner or seaman at sea.” Mr Mynett, supervising assistant clerk at the Admiralty was called to provide clarity. He produced William’s original engagement setting out he was to serve in the Navy for one year from 2 August 1914. He also had the original contract William made with the St John Ambulance. It was signed on 17 October 1914, but backdated to 2 August. Therefore it was dated from his mobilisation and covered his time at HMS Pembroke, the name by which the Admiralty recognised Chatham Barracks.

Staff-Surgeon Stewart RN also gave evidence stating when William arrived at Chatham he would be a naval rating, liable to serve from mobilisation for a period not exceeding one year, and he would be subject to the Naval Discipline Act for the year from 2 August 1914. Effectively he was on active service from the date of the mobilisation order. Under cross-examination he said William was qualified to serve when he left home.

A third Admiralty official, acting superintendent clerk Mr Drake, confirmed William was payed be the Admiralty from 2 August 1914.

Mr Willis held firm with his view that for the will to be valid in accordance with the Act, William needed to be at sea when he made it. Nothing else mattered. Mr Prichard-Wimpell differed in his view – he asserted that soldiers and sailors were treated in the same way in time of war for which mobilisation had taken place.

In summing up Mr Justice Bargrave Deane disagreed – the Act was not the same for soldiers and sailors. The will would have been perfectly good if made at sea. However he could not say in this case that William ever went to sea until he joined the Rohilla. He certainly had not joined any ship when he made the will. Whilst Mr Justice Bargrave Deane felt there was no doubt William’s wishes were that his sweetheart should have his money, regretfully the will did not hold good in law. In effect he died intestate and Administration was granted to William’s father. However the Judge decreed the costs of both parties should come out of the estate.

The entry in the National Probate Calendar for 1916 reads:

Anderson William Edward of 20 School-terrace Damhead-
road Barnoldswick Yorkshire died 30 October 1914 at sea
on H.M. Hospital Ship Rohilla Administration London 18
March to Ralph Anderson factory operative.
Effects £245 5s. 10d.

Interestingly, due to the sharp focus of war and the subtle changes in types of military service this brought, in February 1918 the law changed with the Wills (Soldiers and Sailors) Act 1918. It affirmed that:

“In order to remove doubts as to the construction of the Wills Act 1837, it is hereby declared and enacted that section eleven of that Act authorises and always has authorised any soldier being in actual military service, or any mariner or seaman being at sea, to dispose of his personal estate as he might have done before the passing of that Act, though under the age of 21”

Furthermore, the ability to make privileged will was judged to extend to any member of His Majesty’s naval or marine forces not only when he is at sea but also when he is so circumstanced that if he were a soldier he would be in actual military service within the meaning of that section. The Act was also extended to cover real estate, that is lands and buildings. And soldier included any member of the Air Force.

So what became of Ralph and Edith, the protagonists in this case? Ralph’s death, aged 62, is recorded in the Skipton Registration District (which covered Barnoldswick in this period) in the March Quarter of 1929. Edith’s marriage to Harry Whiteley is recorded in the Huddersfield Registration District. The 1939 Register shows the family living in the Colne Valley village of Linthwaite. She lived well into her 80s.

If you want to know more about the Rohilla sinking, please see my earlier blog post, here.

Sources:

  • 1939 Register – via FindMyPast
  • 1891-1911 Censuses – via Ancestry.co.uk and FindMyPast
  • Burnley Express and Advertiser – 4 November 1914 via FindMyPast
  • Burnley Express and Advertiser – 22 January 1916 via FindMyPast
  • Burnley News – 4 November 1914 via FindMyPast
  • Burnley News – 22 January 1916 via FindMyPast
  • Commonwealth War Graves Commissionhttps://www.cwgc.org/
  • Craven Herald – 6 November 1914, transcript via Craven’s Part in the Great War http://www.cpgw.org.uk/
  • Craven Herald – 21 January 1916, transcript via Craven’s Part in the Great War http://www.cpgw.org.uk/
  • GRO Indexes – via FindMyPast
  • Lancashire, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1936 via Ancestry.co.uk (originals at Lancashire Archives)
  • Leeds Mercury – 21 January 1916 via FindMyPast
  • National Probate Calendar – via FindMyPast
  • Privileged Wills: A Timely Reminder – Christopher Parker takes an in-depth look at the history of privileged wills and also reviews application of the law by C20th courts (taken from Issue No 21  – October 2002) http://www.tact.uk.net/review-index/privileged-wills-a-timely-reminder/
  • The Globe – 20 January 1916 via FindMyPast
  • The Times – 21 January 1916 via The Times Digital Archive
  • The National Archives (TNA) Royal Navy Registers of Seamen’s Services; Class: ADM 188; Piece: 1038 – via Ancestry.co.uk
  • TNA UK Royal Navy and Royal Marine War Graves Roll, 1914-1919 Class : ADM 242/7; Scan Number: 0082 – via Ancestry.co.uk
  • The Wills of our Ancestors – A Guide for Family & Local Historians – Stuart Raymond
  • Wills Acts of 1837 and 1918
  • Wills and Probate Records – A Guide for Family Historians 2nd Edition – Karen Grannum & Nigel Taylor
  • Yorkshire Evening Post – 20 January 1916 via FindMyPast
  • West Yorkshire, England, Church of England Births and Baptisms, 1813-1910 via Ancestry.co.uk (originals at West Yorkshire Archive Service; Wakefield, Yorkshire, England)